Page 195 of Just for the Plot

“You don’t need to talk when he reads,” she says in response, clearly fine with silences.

“What’s this?” Bennett asks, pointing to a paragraph. “Bower would have to assume all blame for the breakup if it were to happen?”

“Typical protocol for a celebrity/peasant relationship.”

“Peasant?” I ask, insulted.

“Yes, when one party is more valuable in the public’s eye than the other, the less valuable party will take on the burden of the breakup to save the image of the higher-valued party.”

“How the fuck is that fair?” Bennett asks.

“It’s not, but that’s business.” She looks down at her watch and then up at us. “Please, I don’t have all day.”

“It’s fine, Bennett,” I say, not caring at all. I take the form from him, and before he can protest, I sign.

“Bower, I wasn’t done reading it.”

“Like I said, it’s fine. I don’t care. If something goes wrong between us, I have no problem taking on the blame.”

“Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Gretchen says, sarcasm dripping from every word as she snatches the paper from me and stuffs it in an envelope. “Now, who knows about this relationship?”

“Um, well, it’s kind of private,” I answer. “We aren’t really telling anyone, because his sister is my best friend, and if she found out,she’dbe very angry, and we’re trying to work that all out before we go public.”

“Is that right?” Gretchen glances over at Bennett. “Then why does he have a guilty look on his face?”

I turn to look at him, too, and sure enough, he does look guilty.

“Who did you tell?” I ask.

He tugs on his hair in that cute, boyish way before saying, “Uh, I might have told—”

“Do not say OC,” Gretchen says.

“OC,” Bennett responds with a nod.

“For the love of God.” Gretchen pinches the bridge of her nose.

“And Graydon,” Bennett adds.

“Bennett,” I say in surprise.

“And Nolan Hart,” Bennett says on a wince.

“My God, Bennett, did you have a gossip session?” I ask, surprised he told so many people.

“I’m sorry. I was just so excited, and they were a part of the whole plan to get you to like me, and since it worked, I wanted to tell them how we succeeded.”

“When you put it like that, it makes me look bad,” I say, irritated all over again about this stupid plan he conducted.

“It doesn’t make her look great. Sort of like she was played.”

“Thank you,” I say, gesturing to Gretchen.

“It wasn’t like that,” Bennett pleads. “Please, let’s not go through this again. You know it was because I was desperate to get you to see me, nothing else.”

He’s right—his attempt at wooing me—that’s how I will refer to it.