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“Of course. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. No, not at all. I just wanted to make sure you and I are on the same page. We’ve had a great working relationship, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“So would I.”

We exchange our goodbyes, and I end the call.

Motherfucker.

I take a breath, and a slow chuckle of disbelief falls from my lips. I’m not sure what to think or how to handle any of this, because none of it is true, and that is amusing. If I don’t see it that way, I’ll be on the phone with Exposé and making an even bigger mess of things. What if someone in the room beats me to it and tells the world that it was a play on words? That I didn’t say I was engaged?

I grab my phone and open my email, sending a quick note to Chuck to let the Legends office know that I refuse, under any circumstances and regardless of any penalty, to be interviewed by Exposé again. Period. End of. Not up for debate.

Then I toss the device onto the counter.

What a clusterfuck.

I lift my mug and take another drink, pacing around the kitchen. This wasn’t a problem I imagined dealing with today, and it’s not quite as simple as it seems. Because denying it might kill this particular story, but it’ll likely create another round of headlines speculating that where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Who is Finn’s mystery woman? Miller has secrets.

I can see headlines now as they set out on a witch hunt to find my nonexistent fiancée.

Alternatively, if I had a fiancée, there’s really no story to tell. Sure, they’d plaster it on Social and their websites for a week before moving on to something juicier. And endorsements from reputable companies would be great for my image after the whole gambling advertising debacle.

If only I had a fiancée …

A slow smile splits my cheeks as the heavens open and wisdom rains down on me.

This kind of money would be great for someone wanting to start a foundation. And it would be even better for someone who wanted to spend time with another person to show how well they are together in domestic, intimate moments.

I could control the story, deflate the media, get an influx of cash, and spend more time with Poppy.

“If that isn’t a game plan, I don’t know what is,” I say, chuckling.

Now I just have to convince her.

God help me.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Poppy

I much prefer working at home over working at the office.

My eyes are a little fuzzy from staring at the computer for the past hour. I was driving myself crazy waiting for a reasonable time to start getting ready for Finn to pick me up, so I decided to check out the insurance policies up for renewal this week. There are a few big scores if we play our cards right, and going into the office tomorrow with this in my back pocket will help start the week off on the right foot. I also spent some time reviewing the information Ann emailed about foundations and charities. I told Joshua he didn’t have to buy me a coffee tomorrow morning for setting him up with Henry. Apparently, he booked the room and got a great deal.

I stretch my arms overhead and start to get up for a shower, but my phone glows from beside my keyboard.

Finn’s name is splashed across the screen.

Finn: Hey.

Me: Hey.

Finn: Can I come by early?