Chapter 6
Amanda
“D o you have any idea how close you are to losing your job, Fitz?”
Evan’s cold as ice tone belied the fire in his eyes. I thought that the nebbish-looking Mr. Fitz was going to burst into flames right then and there. Or maybe run and jump out the top floor of the office in an effort to escape Evan’s wrath.
I’ve been in a lot of office buildings and boardrooms in my time working for Jennifer’s charity. Possibly hundreds. And I’d never been in any nearly as soulless and spartan as that boardroom. Everything was black and white with hints of industrial, dull metal.
The setting seemed to translate directly into the people in the boardroom. It was a great term, boardroom because everyone in that chamber was stiff as a board. They all addressed Evan as ‘sir’ or as Mr. Jones. Usually ‘sir’. There were no smiles, no levity. It was all somber and businesslike.
I couldn’t get over the change that had come over Evan. He was no longer the sensual, passionate darling he’d been on the plane. This was a cold-blooded assassin of the business world. His suit might as well have been sewn out of the broken hearts of his enemies.
I found myself worried for Fitz’s sake. The poor guy was trying to explain why he hadn’t been able to find anyone to be Evan’s fake wife.
I had been summoned to this meeting to try and salvage the idea of a fake wedding, even though Fitz seemed to think it impossible. I was starting to wish I’d stayed home, because Evan’s cold-blooded wrath was frightening to behold.
“If you will just listen to me, sir, I’ll explain everything.” Fitz swallowed hard. “It’s been a series of unfortunate events and strange happenstance.”
“What’s the difference between a reason and an excuse, Fitz?” Evan drummed his fingers on the table. “I really believe that our time together is coming to an end.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I really am. I have lined up several candidates, but sadly every time something has made them toxic to the point of radioactivity.”
“Like what?” Evan snapped.
Fitz pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and cleared his throat.
“Ah, well, let’s take Hillary Gomez, the former TV star.”
“I thought she was the ideal candidate. I mean, she has such a squeaky-clean image,” Evan said.
“Ah, well, about that…” Fitz cleared his throat. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded blue and white handkerchief, which he used to mop his sweating brow. “It seems that Miss Gomez was at Seth Goren’s afterparty and got into some, shall we say, ‘party favors’ that sent her on a crazed bender.”
Fitz turned his phone around so that Evan could see the screen. It appeared to be news helicopter footage of a high-speed car chase. The banner at the bottom read Former Kid Star Now in High-Speed Chase After Leaving the Scene of an Accident .
“One hundred miles, thirty-eight police cars, and one smashed donut shop later, she’s landed her perky little butt in rehab. So much for the squeaky-clean image. ”
Evan seemed slightly less peeved. Not very much, but slightly.
“Very well. What about Scarlett Lakes? She’s up for an Academy Award, that has to be good publicity.”
“I’m afraid that Miss Lakes is no longer a viable option, either.”
Evan stood up and looked Fitz straight in the eyes.
“Fitz, I trusted you to handle this. I’m starting to feel like I have misplaced that trust. Sorely.”
Fitz mopped more sweat off his brow and cleared his throat several times before speaking
“I’m afraid it was out of my control, sir. Miss Lakes’ ex-boyfriend Chet Freeman—”
“Is that the pro wrestler turned actor guy?” Evan asked.
“Yes, the very same. He leaked a sex tape online as revenge porn. Miss Lakes is going into seclusion and her career prospects aren’t looking so hot right now.”
“Hardly her fault. Or yours, Fitz.” Evan’s eyes narrowed. “Now please tell me that Renee Paltrow is going to work out?”
“No, I’m afraid not. Our former Olympic figure skating champion has now joined the Committee to Rebuild American Patriotism. She’s shaved her head and declared that lizard people are running secret sex cults in the attics of Pancake Houses across the United States.”
I snorted with laughter. I couldn’t help it. Everyone stared at me like I’d just farted in church, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Sorry,” I said lamely. After what seemed an eternity, Fitz started speaking again.
“Obviously, her involvement in the organization is going to make it impossible for her to be your fake lover.” Fitz shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. I vetted those candidates myself. I had no idea they had so many skeletons in their closets. ”
I started brainstorming as Fitz and Evan rattled off a bunch more candidates that would never work for this, that, or the other reason. As they wound down, I found the courage to speak.
“So, ah, why is it so hard to find another celebrity bride, not from your list? I mean, there has to be someone willing to go for this, right?”
Fitz pushed his glasses up and gave me a look like he was trying very hard not to be annoyed with me. Jenna, Evan’s assistant, turned a cold-blooded glare my way.
“You don’t understand how rigorously these people have their lives scheduled. It’s not as if we can simply call them up on the telephone or shoot them a text. We have to go through their agents, their lawyers, and probably their agent’s lawyers and their lawyer’s agents just to reach the actual celebrity in question. We simply do not have the time for all of that. We need to pull the trigger on this fake wedding soon, or millions of dollars and many man-hours of prep time will be wasted.”
“I don’t get it. You could still postpone for a little while, right?” I shrugged.
“Because,” Jenna said with ice in her veins and her words, “our marketing department has already secretly leaked the date of the wedding to the press. We need to either cancel the wedding or go through with it. There will be no postponement.”
Evan tightened his hand into a fist. When he spoke, his voice was equally tight.
“Canceling is not an option.” His voice brooked no debate, and his cold gaze dared anyone to question him. “I want those projected profits. I want that wedding. We are going to make it happen. Period, end of story.”
The room fell silent as everyone struggled to brainstorm an idea. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I looked around at the room and tried to gauge their reactions.
“Wait, I’ve got it,” Fitz said, slapping his hands together with glee. “Why didn’t I see it before?”
Evan gave him a withering look, and Fitz seemed to lose a lot of wind from his sails.
“What have you got, and it had better be good, Fitz.”
“Um, two words. Redemption. Arc.” He moved his hands across the air as if they were up on a marquee. “Redemption arc. Everyone loves a good redemption story. We pick one of our starlets who’s had her public persona besmirched. Then we have the two of you meet and spin it that you fell in love due to a happy but unexpected circumstance, and now you’re helping her to be better.”
Evan scowled, drumming his fingers on the table again. His reflection showed on the highly glossed table, and his distorted features almost made him look like a demon. I knew that Evan was one of those kinds of guys who wanted results, and he wanted them right now. The only problem was, he may have been trying to grasp too much.
“How is that going to work? Isn’t one of those women in rehab?”
“Well, we could have you check into rehab, and it would be a double redemption arc story.”
“Check into rehab?” Jenna scoffed. I was glad to see her ire directed at someone else for a change. “Are you insane? The boss can’t be seen as having any form of incompetence or it’s going to tank stock prices and decrease net value. You know, the exact opposite of what we’re trying to achieve?”
“I agree with Jenna,” Evan said, ice in his tone. “No rehab for me.”
“Then maybe we could say that you were going in there as, I don’t know, a counselor or a sponsor or something.”
Jenna shook her head.
“It’s too off-brand for Evan. He’s not likely to do something like that unless it’s the most glamorous rehab center in the world.”
Fitz slapped his hand on the phone in his pocket .
“If you give me ten minutes and a web search, I’ll find you that super glamorous rehab center. I’m telling you this idea has legs.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Evan glared him to silence. “Because I’m cutting it off. Next.”
It took me a moment to realize he meant ‘next idea’. The silence stretched out to very uncomfortable levels. Evan shot glares at his people, as if accusing them of the worst sins imaginable because they didn’t have fresh ideas ready for the grinder that was his brain.
“What do I pay you people for?” he growled.
Because I felt bad for them, and because I wanted to put an end to the uncomfortable silence, I blurted something out that I maybe shouldn’t have.
“Why does it have to be a celebrity, or an influencer, or a professional athlete?”
All three of them turned their gazes on me. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable under their sustained scrutiny. I couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Their gazes remained inscrutable. I feared that either Jenna would say something cutting, or Evan would snap about me keeping my mouth shut. I was even worried Fitz would smirk and adjust his glasses like he did when he felt contempt.
Then Evan turned to look at Fitz. Fitz took a deep breath, his brows arching high under his balding pate.
“It could work, sir. A Cinderella story. Rags to riches.”
“Beauty and the Beast,” Jenna offered.
“Ha ha, Jenna,” Evan said. I wasn’t even sure she had made a joke. “Is this something that you really think is going to work, Fitz? Or are you just grasping at straws to save your seven-figure salary and corner office?”
Fitz opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged.
“Can it be both? ”
“I don’t know, Fitz…”
“All I’m saying, sir, is that there are worse ideas. If it’s a nobody, someone with zero public recognition factor, then they won’t have a reputation to manage or tarnish. Not to mention that when it’s time to terminate the agreement, it will be so much easier. Much easier than it would be if the woman were a celebrity, don’t you agree?”
Evan took a long breath, then let it out through his nose, making his nostrils flare. He looked at Fitz like a predator crouched in a tree.
“I don’t know about this idea, Fitz. What good is it going to do for my reputation if the woman I wind up fake marrying isn’t famous?”
“That’s the beauty of it, sir. The one place your Q ratings are lagging behind is in middle America. You know, the whole mom, apple pie, working the plow kind of people. They’ve been turned off by your wild antics and playboy tendencies. If you settle down with a nice, normal person instead of a celebrity, well, they’re going to think you’re, you’re…”
Fitz snapped his fingers as he struggled to come up with the right word. Jenna sprang into the gap.
“Down to earth?” she said.
“Down to earth,” Fitz repeated gratefully, bobbing his head in agreement.
Evan steepled his hands together and considered his marketing director. For a long moment, no one dared speak while he weighed Fitz’s fate.
Then he rose from his seat and walked around to my side of the table. I gasped as he took my hand and looked me in the eyes.
“Amanda,” he said, holding me hypnotized with his stalwart gaze, “will you marry me?”