Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Not sure,” he admits. “There’s a camera crew.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I start walking a little faster.
Turns out, Damon’s not kidding. There’s actually a camera crew plus lighting. Conlan’s sitting at the head of the table, glaring at everyone as they get the stuff set up, and he waves me over the moment I step foot in the room. Nobody looks surprised that I’m there.
“Uh, what’s all this?”
“We’re doing a video.” He doesn’t look happy about it. “About our happy marriage.”
“Hello, you must be Isabel.” A pretty older woman shakes my hand. She’s in business clothes and has the brisk, professional demeanor of a person used to this sort of thing. “I was told to expect you both. My name’s Shannon Lewis, but just call me Shan. I’m General Leyland’s public relations assistant.”
Ah, that clicks into place. Her demeanor makes sense—I’d bet most of his employees act pretty stiff and serious all the time, even his creatives.
“I guess you want me and Conlan to make a statement?” I don’t know how much of our little charade she’s aware of, and I figure I’ll keep playing my role until it’s clear otherwise.
“That’s right. Just something simple. Talk about the night in question, why the general’s daughter was at Conlan’s house, your relationship with him, that sort of thing.” Shan gestures for me to sit next to Conlan. “Try to keep it simple and formal, but feel free to—” She gestures at us.
“Feel free to what?” Conlan asks.
“Show, you know, affection.” She frowns. “Hold hands. Kiss a little. I don’t know. How do married couples show affection again?”
I stifle a laugh. Shannon’s got to be some kind of robot or something. “I’m pretty sure kissing on camera in this context would come off pretty weird,” I say.
“Good point.” She makes a note on her clipboard. “I’ll keep that in mind. Right, okay, let’s get lights up and camera ready, I want to be done with this in the next half hour.”
The crew bustles around, prepping everything. I’m left sitting with Conlan in the middle of the chaos, feeling totally out of place. I lean closer to him, my voice low. “Did you know they were coming today?”
“No,” he says. “They just showed up. Shan here made herself at home.”
“I guess we can’t really turn it down.”
“I don’t think this is optional.”
“That must annoy you, huh?” I grin when his eyebrows raise. “You’re not used to doing what you’re told.”
“Keep that up and I’m going to slip you some tongue when I kiss you on camera.”
“Better not. We’re talking about the rumors around you and the general’s daughter, remember? The very explicit and also true rumors?”
“They can edit it out.”
A sharp pulse runs down into my guts. “Seriously Conlan, you’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
“Not right now.” He hesitates. “Unless the moment calls for it.”
I could scream. “No kissing. Okay? We can hold hands. Very chaste. Very tasteful.”
“I don’t like chaste or tasteful.”
“I’m aware, but we’re playing roles, remember?”
He’s about to say something lewd and inappropriate, I’m sure, but Shan interrupts. “Let’s get into our places. Lights ready?”
I shuffle closer to Conlan until Shan’s happy with the framing. Once that’s good, they take light measurements, the crew finishes the final prep, and they’re rolling.
“Take it from the top,” Shan says, sitting off-camera. “Tell me from the start how things went down.”
Conlan starts talking. He tells the story of how he ran into Allison at a party—all true, as far as I know—and brought her back to his place. But where reality is much more sordid, he paints a somewhat heroic image of himself. “She was too drunk to the point of being sloppy, and I realized she was General Leyland’s daughter. I decided instead of leaving her there, or letting someone else take her home, I’d get her back to our place, let her sober up, and make sure she got back to the general safely in the morning.”
“And nothing inappropriate happened between you two?” Shan asked.
“Nothing remotely inappropriate happened.”
If I didn’t know any better, I might believe him.
But of course, something did happen.
And suddenly, while the cameras are rolling, a strange feeling begins to creep down my spine.
Conlan keeps talking about how he tries to look out for people, especially for defenseless women, and I’m sitting here thinking—this bastard fucked her.
He fucked Allison.
They slept together.
My husband took that girl home and banged her, and now we’re talking about it, on-camera, like it didn’t happen.
It’s jealous. The feeling is jealousy.
Which is insane. It’s certifiable. What right do I have to be jealous?
When Conlan slept with Allison, I was only his assistant. He owed me absolutely nothing at all.
And yet. My emotions won’t leave me alone. I try to keep them off my face but clearly Shan notices.
“Isabel, or should I call you Mrs. Costa?”