58. Connecting the Dots

58

CONNECTING THE DOTS

Maeve

Maybe I sense a disturbance in the Force. That’s the only explanation for why I’m awake at this god-awful hour of…oh. It’s seven. I guess I should be getting out of bed. I have a mural to finish. But when I turn toward Asher, my chest seizes up.

He’s clutching his phone. Shit. Is he going there again? Already?

But before I start spiraling, I remind myself that it’s not the phone that’s the issue—it’s how he uses it.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to stay calm. Focus on communication.

He sighs, dragging a hand over his stubble, momentarily distracting me because, damn, he looks good with it. “Miranda Blush is saying our romance is fake. She just posted a whole video laying out her ‘evidence.’ She told her half a million followers that our marriage is all a PR stunt. ”

I sit up straight, ready to march into battle. I fought her off once. I’ll do it again. Quickly, I run through every event in my head—brunch with the Greers, dinner with the board, the picnic. She wasn’t there for any of it. “What the hell? How does she know how it started? It’s not like either of us slipped up in public.”

His lips twitch slightly at my words— how it started . Like he’s still delighting in the fact that I’m acknowledging how it started one way but shifted into something else entirely. I hope he stays in that delight for a long, long time.

But then he schools his expression. “Honestly, I think she’s just taking a good guess. Her video is like, ‘Does this seem off to you?’ Then she lists how the first public photo of us kissing was at the auction, and how we happened to get married in Vegas right as the photo from Jen and Hal went viral. Then she points out how we posted more photos after that—photos that seemed staged . She’s connecting dots that maybe were fake at the time.”

I want to rip out her extensions. “What is she, a forensic social media-ologist?”

“I guess,” he mutters, his jaw tight. “But that’s all she’s doing—guessing.”

“Well, she’s wrong. So fuck her,” I say, crossing my arms. “She can’t hurt us because we’re together for real.”

But Asher doesn’t relax this time. He turns toward me, his expression still grim.

That’s when it hits me—there’s fallout. When you lie, there’s always a price to pay. “Oh god, what is it? Is it going to affect your charity?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Well, yes, but I’m not really worried about that.”

“You’re not worried about it? ”

He shakes his head again. “Soraya messaged me. Some of the donors reached out too, asking if it’s true. But I’m not worried because the truth is simple—I’m with you, and it’s real,” he says, grasping my hand, holding it tight. “I’ll happily say that to anyone. I’ll tell the board, the donors, the team. I’ll tell them we got married for fun, and stayed married because I wanted to make you fall in love with me. That’s the only truth that matters. Whatever happens happens.”

God, that’s sexy. “How are you so hot when you say stuff like that?”

His serious expression softens as he leans over, cupping my cheek. “Maybe this started as a ruse, but the truth is I’ve been falling for you for years, like I said last night. And I will tell anyone the truth of the way I feel. Because I knew at Mr. Vincenzo’s party, which was less than twenty-four hours after we were married, I wanted to explore how I really felt. I wanted to win your heart. And that desire’s only gotten stronger.”

I want to grab him and kiss him right now. I love how he’s solved this problem, how confident he is about us, but something still isn’t adding up. “So…what’s the issue?”

He sighs again. “Everly’s been texting me. She said Eleanor’s kind of freaking out. She feels like you deceived her.”

My heart plummets, and it’s like all the air’s been sucked from the room. Eleanor thinks I’m a liar? Eleanor, who’s been so kind to me?

I gulp, panic setting in. I don’t have the same protection Asher does. The charity is his passion, but it’s not his job.

His job is safe.

Mine might not be.