on every page of every tabloid, every gossip website talking about you, and your name in the snarky little mouths of every pop culture loving American with a social media account.”
“I don’t want to do anything that would offend anyone,” I objected, raising my hands in the air. “I don’t want to be controversial.”
“Ugh,” Elijah groaned. “Work with me here. You said you trusted me.”
“I do.”
“As I was saying… We just need to create some kind of buzz surrounding you. How do you feel about contacting your stepbrother?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know. I might still have his number. I think he hates me though.”
“Perfect. Call him.”
“And say what?”
“You and Xavier are going to be Hollywood’s next “It” couple!” He clapped his hands like a giddy schoolgirl.
“That’s disgusting. No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing that. And I doubt he’d ever agree to it anyway.”
“You don’t have to, like, really date him or fuck him or anything. Ew. It’s all for show. Just make a few appearances together. Little closed-mouth kisses here and there. Make it look like you’re dating, and then when people start speculating about it, deny the hell out of it. It’ll drive people crazy. They’ll be dying to know what the hell is going on between the son and daughter of Sharon Bliss and Conrad Fox. I mean, I have to say your parents’ divorce is really perfect timing. It really adds a whole ‘nother level of crazy to this whole faux-mance.”
I ran a hand through my silken blonde locks and released a deep breath. “I don’t even know how I’d approach him about that. He’d probably laugh in my face or hang up on me.”
“Okay. Fine. Other options would be that you could get addicted to drugs and go to rehab, get into a car accident with a paparazzo, or start a Twitter feud with one of the Kardashians. You pick.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “I’m not doing any of those things.”
He grabbed my phone from the sofa cushion and began thumbing through it until he arrived at the contact information for Xavier Fox.
“Wait. No. Stop. Elijah, what would our parents say?” I stalled him.
“It won’t matter because the relationship will be fake.”
“Yeah, but it’ll still affect them. They’re already dealing with a very public divorce, and to throw in the fact that their son and daughter may or may not be dating on top of it? It’ll create a nightmare for them.”
“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Elijah said with an air of unbridled excitement. “God, I need to be a publicist. Anyway, there’s no such thing as bad publicity. You’ll be helping them. I promise. They might be ticked for a minute, but then Conrad will go back to acing his golf game and Sharon will find some tight-assed little pool boy to play with for a bit, and they’ll forget all about it.”
He was probably right, but it still didn’t change the chaos of nervous tension fluttering around in my stomach at the mere thought of proposing such a ridiculous idea to my estranged and soon-to-be ex stepbrother.
“What are you waiting for?” Elijah shoved the hand into my phone with Xavier’s number filling the screen. The fucker had already pressed it and it was ringing.
My fingers flew to my lips. The very ones my stepbrother had kissed one drunken night before shoving his hands down my pants and massaging me until I came all over his thick fingers. I was only eighteen, and he was twenty. I was very drunk, but I very much wanted it. The next morning he left without saying a word, and I hadn’t told a single soul since. It was our dirty little secret.
“You asshole.” I jerked the phone from him and placed it up to my ear, barely able to hear the ring above the hard thumps of my heart. One ring turned into two, and then two into three. “He’s not answering.”
The second I pulled the phone away from my ear, I heard a man’s voice say, “Hello?”
TWO
Xavier
“H-hi,
Wanda E. Brunstetter
Valentina Heart
Lanette Curington
Nat Burns
Jacqueline Druga
Leah Cutter
JL Paul
Nalini Singh
Leighann Dobbs
Agatha Christie