Page 34 of Scandal
“But none of that was your fault. Hell, most of those photos weren’t even recent. A lot of those girls have even come out and said they haven’t seen you in years.”Noneof those photos were recent because the only time I let a woman take a picture with me was when I was young and dumb.
“It doesn’t matter. The damage has already been done.”
“So you’re just going to go along with this? With everything they tell you to do?” Her voice is shaky and full of emotion. “Wait, what did you mean when you said we’d have to tell my family we were dating?”
“Nothing. It was a stupid idea.”
“Tell me.”
“No,” I say firmly. “It’s too much.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “How do you know? You haven’t asked.”
“I just do, Merc. I’ve lived in the public eye for years, and you’re?—”
Her brow rises. “I’m what? Too young? Too naïve?”
Too special, I almost say.
“No,” I answer. “None of that. It’s just too much to ask, especially when you came here to bring me back to LA.”
“That’s not why I came here.”
My brow furrows. “Isn’t that why Lance sent you?”
“Sure, but I never promised them I’d bring you home.” I stare at her, confused. “I told them I would come and make sure you weren’t alone and that you knew you had people fighting for you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
My stomach twists at the passion behind her words.
“Merc, this is going to be a lot. Balls, charity events, endless people. That red carpet event we attended for your father?” I remind her, trying not to let my mind linger on the way her gown clung to her every curve. If she hadn’t been struggling in front of the cameras, I would have found another excuse just to get close to her that night. “That will feel like a cakewalk compared to what we’ll face.”
“Then I guess we’d better get started.”
“You have a career and a whole life back in LA. I can’t ask you to just drop that.”
“You aren’t asking. I’m offering.”
I look away before surprising myself by saying, “There would need to be an end date.” I can’t believe I’m even considering this. “I need to know you’re not stuck here forever.”
She appears to think about it for a moment before she nods. “Okay, what about six months?”
I shake my head. “Too long. What about three?”
For some reason, she appears almost hurt by this suggestion, but nods anyway. “Okay. Three.”
“And I want you to find a way to work…if you want to,” I add, knowing how important her career is to her.
Her expression softens. “I would love that.”
“Good.” But then I immediately follow it up with, “Are you sure?”
“Asher, I can do this,” she declares. “And I can do it a hell of a lot better than some debutante duchess who doesn’t know a thing about you.”
I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “A debutante and a duchess are two vastly different things.”
The look she gives me says she doesn’t give two shits. Frankly, neither do I.
“What will we tell your family?”
