Page 14 of Heart Breaker

“I want to hear them.”

She exhales softly, leaning forward slightly in her chair. “When would I need to move in?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her eyes go wide. “And we just, what? Play house for a year?”

“Not exactly,” I say, considering her question for a beat. “We live together, but you don’t need to act like my wife when we’re in our home.”

Her brows furrow. “Our home?”

“Yes,” I tell her. “I told you I want you to be comfortable while we’re —”

“Lying to everyone?”

I look away, not sure how to respond until I can come up with a good enough answer. “If we’re going to do this, it has to be believable,” I say. “You can tell your immediate family, but everyone else would need to believe this is real.”

“Okay,” she nods once. Next question. What happens in a year when this is over?”

“We break up. My publicist will issue a statement. We can say we’re separating or divorcing. Whatever makes the most sense at the time. We’ll go our separate ways.”

She studies me for a second. “And you’re really okay with this? Living with someone you barely know?”

I nod. “I know enough.”

Her eyes search mine like she’s trying to figure out what that means. “Wes, why do you think this is actually going to work? Because, just so you’re aware, pretending to be someone’s wife isn’t exactly something I have a lot of experience in.”

“No one will question it,” I say confidently. “People want the headlines to be real. They want to believe in the story. They’re not going to be looking for a reason to doubt it.”

She shoots me a doubtful gaze. “Is there a girlfriend or a Mrs. Winters lurking somewhere I should know about, or am I safe from being publicly labeled a home-wrecker?”

I shake my head. “No, Lottie. I don’t have a girlfriend or a wife or anything close to one. I haven’t in a long time. Do you think I would be asking you to do this if I did?”

“A girl can never be too careful.” She shrugs.

“Same goes for you,” I tell her. “If you have someone, that needs to end. This won’t work if there’s anyone else in the picture for either of us.”

A beat passes between us.

“So,” I ask. “Is there someone I need to know about?”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

I already knew that. I asked Jesse before meeting Lottie today and he confirmed she’s single. And for reasons I’m not interested in examining too closely, I was very relieved to hear it.

Lottie taps her finger against the side of her cup as she chews on her bottom lip.

“Lottie, what are you thinking? This is only going to work if you’re honest with me.”

“How exactly are we supposed to convince the press that our marriage is real?” she asks in a lowered voice. “We don’t have photos together. There’s no wedding. No marriage license for anyone to dig up. So, unless you married me in my sleep and forgot to mention it, I’m not seeing how this holds up under even the smallest amount of scrutiny.”

A corner of my mouth almost lifts, but I keep my expression in check. She’s going to say yes.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s Victoria’s job. We pay her an obscene amount of money to handle this stuff. She’ll figure it all out.” I lean back, still watching her. “We can meet with her tomorrow. She’d like to talk to you in person.”

Her eyes hesitantly search mine. “I’m assuming we’ll sign some sort of contract.”

“If you’re concerned that I won’t hold up my end of the deal, Lottie, I’m a man of my word. I’ll pay your father’s medical bills. But yes, to be safe, my lawyers will write up a contract. Something that will protect both of us.”