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I know we’d decided on keeping up the pretense, but his words still get to me, and I almost—almost—believe he means them.
The interviewer does not seem convinced, lifting her brows.
Alex leans in, his expression dead serious. “But it’s more than her beauty, which is a lot to get past, by the way.” There’s a trill of laughter from the audience. “She’s the mostgenuinely amazing woman I’ve ever met. She makes me better, happier, more fulfilled.”
I’m completely stupid for even partly believing that he’s not putting on a show.
But then, it’s hard to bite back a smile as I look at the annoyed expression on my father’s face.
“Why?” he says, his voice thick with disappointment. “Why is he still going on about you? Britney, I’m worried about you. This will be difficult to live down.”
It’s hard to remember to put on my meek voice in the face of such blatant manipulation, but I manage it anyway. “I’m just helping him out. And he’s saying nice things about me. Nothing wrong with that.”
My father slams the laptop shut. “You have helped him,” he almost shouts. “A lot. This is not the time for him to keep harping on about how he’s in love with you.”
Butterflies erupt in my belly at my father’s choice of words. “He just—”
“You’re going to have to shut this down, Brit,” he says. “This can’t go on any longer.”
His face is serious, but there’s no trace of anxiety or fear in his expression. The returned calm can only mean one thing.
The deal with the Furmans is still on track.
I suddenly feel lightheaded. This cannot be happening. The fact that Alex and I had sex is complicated enough, but that could still be handled. Nothing about sleeping with Alex means that I’ll have to quit my job before the next two years are over. But everything about being pushed on Theo spells disaster.
I stand up, woozy. After doing everything I can think of to make my dad back off, he’s still pressing on, hurling me toward that weasel of a man.
“I know you think you’re having fun,” my dad continues,his voice carrying over to me slowly in the face of my sudden dizziness. “But you can’t keep doing this with Alex, even if it is for him. And—”
The door opens, and Blake, still decked out in his hockey gear, steps in. He instantly looks suspicious.
“Let me guess. You’re talking about Alex’s recent interview.”
Our dad shakes his head. “I’m telling her she’s going to have to cut ties with him.” He looks back at me, uncharacteristic gentleness in his eyes. “I only want the best for you, sweetie. And while you’re a great friend, you have to think about your future. Your reputation might take a hit dating someone like Alex.”
I blink in succession multiple times, trying to clear my head. That, and trying to figure out what card I’ve got left to play.
“You might think I’m crazy,” Blake interjects, so I turn to him again. “But I agree with Dad on this one. And I know I was the one who suggested this whole thing—”
Our father turns purple. “You what?”
“Hey.” Blake raises up a hand in defense. “I had no idea this was going to happen. But shit’s hit the fan now. And even though Alex swears both of you are strictly platonic, and I don’t have a reason not to believe him, things turned complicated. You guys have to cut it off, publicly. I cherish Alex as a friend, but Dad’s right. This isn’t doing much for you.”
I’m barely listening to my brother.
All I can hold onto is the fact that I can’t think of any other plan to stop the deal with the Furmans. Short of leaking a sex tape, I can’t do anything else. My dad is going to keep processing this deal, and soon enough, he is going to start planning our wedding, and I’ll have no choice but to leave.
My stomach lurches, and I suddenly feel sick. Surprised at the wave of nausea, I clamp my palm to my mouth.
Blake’s hand is suddenly on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You’re sweating.”
When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is my dad. His face is contorted with righteous indignation. He cannot bring himself to look at least a little concerned. All he wants to know is whether I’m willing to drop the charade with Alex. And then, he’s going to start caring about me. It is a push-and-pull kind of thing.
Just as it has been all my life.
He proves me right in the next moment when he says, “I’m going to call Alex myself. Tell him you don’t want to be his lackey anymore. Trust me, Brit. This is going to be the best thing for your reputation.”
Maybe it’s his blatant lie, or maybe it’s something else. But I’m suddenly exhausted. The lying, scheming, pretending, it’s all so tiresome.
