Page 45 of The Marriage Clause

Not black. Not pale. Somewhere in between.

I stop.

Both men are looking at me.

"Matteo usually makes my coffee," Everett says.

"You're free to relax when I’m here, Aria. I can handle the food and refreshments." Matteo says sweetly.

Heat rushes to my face. "Sorry. Force of habit."

Everett takes the mug from my hand, his fingers brush mine.

"You don’t have to do that," he says. "You’re not my assistant anymore."

"No." I force a smile that feels thin. "Right. I’m about to be your wife."

The words land between us like a dropped glass, then he takes a sip of the coffee and looks away first.

"Everly said you have a dress fitting. The town car is already here for you. He’s waiting for whenever you want to leave," he says, voice back to neutral. Businesslike.

I climb onto the stool again.

"Thank you."

Matteo sets breakfast in front of both of us and vanishes with timing that feels suspiciously professional.

Everett picks up his plate and mug, and turns like he’s heading for his office.

"You don’t have to leave," I say before I can stop myself. "If you want to eat here."

His hand tightens around the coffee mug. "I have work."

It’s Saturday but of course he still works. "Right."

He hesitates. "We have reservations two nights from now," he says. "La Maison Aurelle. A charity event."

I lift an eyebrow as if that name should mean something to me. "La Maison Aurelle?"

"Kauffman Enterprises is an investor. They’ll hold a table for us Friday night. There’ll be press," he adds. "We need to be seen together again."

The small bubble of excitement that had dared to rise dies in my chest.

This isn’t dinner. It’s a PR move. This is what I agreed to. He paid for Brookhaven. Now it’s my turn.

"Okay," I say.

Then he leaves.

I sit there with my breakfast and the echo of his footsteps and try not to feel stupid about it.

The paparazzi are waiting outside the private entrance.

That is how I learn I am officially in over my head.

One second I’m stepping toward the town car with the driver holding the door.

The next there are men with cameras shouting my name like I’m someone worth chasing.