Chapter Three
Wednesday afternoon
Quinn
T he Mediterranean-style home matches Lyla’s description, its limestone facade and manicured grounds speaking to refined taste. Taking a steadying breath, I gather my materials, reminding myself that Kiera specifically requested me for this. No matter how imposing the setting, I’ve earned my place at this meeting.
Lyla navigates her SUV and glides to a stop in the circular driveway while I double-check the address on my phone. “Yep, we’re at the right house.”
A familiar flutter of anxiety rises in my chest. “God, I’m so nervous.” I’ve never done a presentation by myself before.
“Don’t be. You’re good at what you do. Just believe in yourself,” Lyla says, but her reassurance barely touches my nerves.
We make our way up the steps to imposing double iron doors. Lyla touches my arm before reaching for the doorbell. “Let me do the introductions first, okay?”
A few moments after she rings the doorbell, one of the doors swing open to reveal a tall man in jeans and a bright red tee.
“Hi, Mr. Knight!” Lyla’s greeting stops my heart.
The surname hits me. Knight Industries. Nathan Knight. My heartbeat stutters, then races as memories flood back with nauseating speed. My mouth goes dry, palms instantly clammy. Memories of late nights discussing my ex’s family’s company, his pride when talking about his brother’s leadership, his dreams of expanding their tech empire. During our year together, Nathan had mentioned his brother Jonathan ran Knight Industries, but we’d never met. I’d been so focused on my career after our breakup that I hadn’t connected Jonathan Knight the CEO with Jonathan Knight the brother.
Bile rises in my throat, but I force it down. One year of carefully rebuilding my career can’t fall apart because of a name.
I draw in a slow breath through my nose, channeling every ounce of professionalism I’ve earned. This meeting is too important to let old wounds derail it. If I land this job, there’s no doubt I’ll run into Nathan. And if that happens… Well, I’ll just have to be an adult and deal. I mean, what else can I do?
“Ms. Clark,” he greets us with a warm smile. “I’m Jonathan. Come on in.”
He leads us into a formal dining room where, to my surprise, the entire wedding party awaits. The rich scent of fresh flowers mingles with warm cinnamon from something baking nearby. My legs somehow carry me across the polished threshold, the soft murmur of conversation pausing as Lyla makes introductions.
The first person I see, and the first who rises from her chair, is Kiera. She looks stunning in an off-white halter dress with a bow at her waist that floats around her as she moves. Her familiar face grounds me in the present rather than a past I’m desperately trying not to dwell on.
“Lyla! So good to see you.” Both women hug before the bride-to-be turns her gaze to me. “Quinn! I’m so happy we get to see each other in person. When I told Lyla I’d like to hire you, I was so excited to learn you two were close. If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.” Kiera pulls me into a hug. “I hope you don’t mind; I’m a hugger.”
“It’s good to see you again, especially in person.” I hug her back. “Congratulations on your engagement!”
The warmth of her welcome makes my day. Most clients maintain a careful distance, so this feels like a breath of fresh air.
“I’ve been trying to plan this wedding on my own for a few weeks,” Kiera admits with a slight grimace. “But it quickly became overwhelming with all the details and my work schedule. That’s when I found Lyla, thank goodness. With six months to go until the big day, I needed the help.”
“And now you’ve got both of us,” Lyla adds with a reassuring smile.
“Lyla’s already met everyone, so let me introduce you to the gang.” She indicates a woman with glorious natural curls, wearing a purple tank top and black capri pants, who offers a friendly wave. “This is my maid of honor, Kami Hernandez.” She then points to a dark-haired woman in denim shorts and a blush-pink tee. Her hair is styled in an elegant ponytail, showing off the length of her hair. “This is my bridesmaid and sister of the groom, Mia.” Next to her sits a tall man with espresso-colored hair who stands as well. He’s wearing a blue tee and khakis. “And this is the best man, Jake Hall.”
“It’s nice to meet everyone!” I say as Jonathan gestures for us to take seats at the large oak table. They move with the practiced ease of a close-knit group, comfortable with each other in a way that speaks of years of shared history. I settle into the chair across from Nathan’s sister—the same Mia he used to call every Sunday without fail. Jake, his brother’s best friend, featured in half the crazy stories Nathan would tell. I’m more nervous the longer the time passes. Do they know me? They wouldn’t have let me in if they did, right? The longer I contemplate, the more nervous I become.
“Can I get you two ladies something to drink?” Jonathan offers.
“Water would be perfect,” Lyla replies.
“Yes, water would be great,” I respond, grateful for the chance to wet my suddenly dry throat.
“You got it! I’ll be right back, and then we can get started.” He gestures to the group before walking through a door that presumably leads to the kitchen, disappearing from our view.
Every professional instinct I have screams to excuse myself, to protect both them and me from the inevitable fallout once Nathan finds out about my possible involvement. Yet there’s a small part of me more insistent that I’ve earned this opportunity. My reputation, my skills, my dedication to rebuilding my business from the ground up—they’re all real, all mine. Neither the Knight family name nor Nathan has the power to take that away.
When Jonathan returns, I force my attention to his words about their PR needs, even as my mind catalogs every familiar gesture he shares with his brother.
“And I imagine you want to keep your wedding as private as possible?” I ask, my mind already keeping potential media containment strategies in mind despite my inner turmoil. I mentally map out which influential bloggers to cultivate, which publications might need exclusive content to prevent them from digging deeper.
“We know people are going to say what they want to say, but we don’t want this to catch fire, if you know what I mean,” Jonathan explains, leaning forward slightly. “More importantly, we need discretion on two fronts: our…relationship history and the actual wedding events themselves.” He straightens. “Someone in my position attracts constant media attention. So the last thing we need is paparazzi scaling fences or reporters posing as caterers on our wedding day.”
“Privacy, overall, is our top priority,” Kiera adds. “We want to share our wedding with friends and family, not the entire internet. And I know not a lot of people can say they fell in love with their secretary who accidentally propositioned them for sex via email, much less who’s pregnant with his baby.” She laughs awkwardly.
I blink but then quickly hide my surprise. “I completely understand.” As romantic as their love story is, and as much as it sounds like something out of a bestselling novel, it makes perfect sense why they’d want to hire a PR consultant. Many businesses would love to exploit this kind of gossip.
“If it helps, I can have everyone in the office sign an NDA,” Jonathan suggests.
“It wouldn’t be a terrible idea but not a necessary one,” I tell him. “Since your top priority is discretion, however, you can absolutely do that if you choose to.”
“I’ll get on that ASAP,” Jake assures, pulling out his phone with practiced efficiency.
I continue sliding into my element. “My top priority is to manage you and your fiancée’s public image. Not just as a couple but also as individuals. What I would essentially do is carefully construct a narrative where we have control over what people will see and ultimately think when they see pictures of you online.”
“How so?” Jonathan leans farther forward, clearly intrigued.
So far so good, I think to myself , warming to my topic.
“The key is maintaining positive media coverage. The more positive and focused on the wedding itself, the better. I have several connections that can help with that.”
“How do you know they’ll do as you ask?” Kiera’s question is sharp but not unkind. “Knight Industries is on the rise and people—very important people—are noticing. The last thing we need is for anyone to consider our love story as some kind of scandal.”
“They’re people I know on a personal level, and they’ll work under deep discretion if I ask them. Also”—I allow myself a small smile—“a lot of them owe me favors.”
I continue. “Which brings me to social media. We’ll have to be meticulous about what you or anyone in your wedding party posts. This includes sharing updates and highlights on social media such as…saying yes to bridesmaids’ dresses or to showing you two at a cake tasting.”
“I’m sure I’m being paranoid, but we could easily go viral for the wrong reasons,” Jonathan observes, his fingers drumming once on the polished table.
“Maybe, but you could just as easily go viral for all the right reasons. A negative post is only a big deal if we make it one. The more the positive outweighs the negative, the better.”
“So your plan is to ignore negative or speculative comments?” Kami simplifies, raising an eyebrow.
“Not ignore but get ahead and present the opposite. Indirectly debunking the negative, so to speak. Like I said, the positive must outweigh the negative. And the more we post every day, the more people will see what we want them to see.”
Jonathan nods, his posture relaxing as he gives me a warm smile. “Would it be possible to create a social media schedule? Also, I’d like all our meetings to be in-person, given our complex and sensitive situation.”
“We can absolutely do that,” I reply. This seems promising, my confidence building with each positive response. “We can start that process as soon as possible. Lyla and I can compare notes over the course of the planning.” The completionist in me wants to get it all done now, but I’ve learned to be patient; I haven’t received an offer yet.
“Kiera and I would like to discuss this with each other for a few minutes, if that’s okay.”
“Of course!” I agree.
Jonathan stands from his seat beside me, takes Kiera’s hand, and they exit through the kitchen door. Lyla sends a file of her planning schedule to my phone when the couple returns a few moments later.
“We’d like to offer you a position as our PR consultant for the wedding,” Jonathan states with a smile. Kiera beside him shows excitement in her expression.
My heart leaps. “Really? That’s amazing! Thank you so much for taking a chance on me.”
Jonathan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Is that a yes?”
At this point, this decision is a no-brainer. “Absolutely!” I stand, extending my hand for a professional shake to him and her. Kiera bypasses it entirely for another warm hug.
“So what are the next steps?” Kiera asks, practically glowing with enthusiasm.
I settle back at my laptop, already in planning mode. “Well, I’ll be sending you an email confirmation, and as we discussed earlier, we can start getting into more details.”
The moment I create the confirmation on my computer and hit Send, there’s a knock at the front door.
“I’ll get that.” Kiera walks out of the room and past the alcove. I hear the door unlocking and opening.
“Are we expecting anyone?” Jake asks.
“One person, but he’d told me he’d be busy at the office,” Jonathan responds, just as puzzled.
“Was it one of your groomsmen? Kyle?” Kami guesses.
“No, he said he’d be out of town,” Jake replies, a note of recognition in his voice. “I think it was?—”
No one has to finish that sentence for me to know who it is. My eyes immediately lock onto the familiar face once he comes into the dining room. I knew this would happen. I just didn’t think I’d be facing Nathan Knight right now.