Chapter Nine Eleanor #2
“Yeah, yeah.” Billy’s gaze cut to me and he smirked. “Maybe if I were a little higher up on the payroll, right, Eleanor?”
I sucked in a breath, momentarily shocked into silence by Billy’s boldness, if not by the sentiment itself.
“Ignore him; he’s an asshole,” Griffin said with mirth.
That much was abundantly clear. Griffin’s hand trailed down my back, and perhaps he’d clocked how stiff my spine had gotten, how over this encounter I was, because he dropped a kiss on my shoulder and began wrapping things up.
From that point on I always made sure to ask who Griffin’s golf partner was before agreeing to come with him to the club.
The elevator jolts to a stop, jolting me out of the memory in turn, and the man in front of us scoots out, hoofing it down the hall like he can’t get away from Adam and me fast enough.
As the doors slide closed, Adam huffs behind me. “I’ve known Billy practically my whole life. It’s different.”
I cut Adam a look over my shoulder. “It’s literally not? He’s a sleazy guy. You think I’m a sleazy woman—”
“I never said that.”
“Okay, well.” I shake my head and face forward again, though I avoid his eye in the mirror this time. “How about your buddy JJ Sinclair?”
Another guy with a list of alleged misconduct the length of a CVS receipt. He’s produced more than one of Adam’s artists’ biggest hits.
“Fuck that guy,” Adam says sharply, drawing my gaze back to his reflection. “He’s been fired. And we are not buddies.”
“I’ve seen pictures of you two looking tight at parties—”
“Are you friends with everyone you’ve ever been in proximity with at some fucking industry event?”
“So, you’ve been friendly enough with JJ to be photographed together at events, but I should instinctively know that you aren’t actually friends with him?
And what, you get a pass for your connection to Billy because he’s always been nice to you?
Meanwhile, I used to date someone I worked with, which is something loads of people do, but because he turned out to be a toxic piece of shit, I need to publicly atone for the rest of my life. ”
The elevator doors open—we’ve reached the rooftop. I step out into the fresh air and Adam catches my elbow, stilling me. “That isn’t fair—”
“You’re right, it’s not.” My voice has started to shake—from anger, definitely not the urge to cry—and I take a deep breath. “I’m so sick of constantly trying to prove I’m more than the mistake I made when I was twenty-two.”
Adam’s jaw works, his hand on my arm just firm enough to keep me in place. I know I could pull away if I really wanted to, but a bigger part of me wants to hear what he has to say for himself.
Unfortunately—or possibly in the first bit of good fortune I’ve had all day—he doesn’t get the chance.
“Oh my god, you guys came!”
We look over at the same time to find a petite woman wearing five-inch heels and purple lipstick rapidly approaching us with her arms wide open. She pulls both of us in for a fierce group hug, and Adam’s hand falls away from me in the process.
I hazard a guess as she pulls back: “Mae?”
She beams in response. “Seriously, I’m so glad you guys decided to come.” She lowers her voice as she pivots and loops an arm around each of ours, steering us into the courtyard, where a small stage is set up. “This whole show has been a bit of a nightmare. Only two other couples signed up.”
“Uh,” Adam says smoothly. “What show?”
Mae guides us forward a few more steps before releasing us with a cock of her head. “The newlywed game.”
Adam and I blink at each other, then turn back to Mae.
“The one I told you about last night?”
“Right,” I say. “Last night. That’s actually why we’re here. We need you to take down that picture of us you posted.”
“Oh.” She pulls her phone out of her back pocket. “Why? It’s so cute!”
“Yeah, no, it’s adorable. But… we haven’t really told anyone about getting married yet. And we want to keep it that way.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Her fingers swipe the phone open. “I knew you guys eloped, but you didn’t mention it was a whole clandestine thing.”
“We were a bit out of it,” Adam offers, which probably didn’t need to be stated, if Mae spent any more than a few passing moments with us last night.
“No worries. I’ll take it down and get you guys registered for the game.”
“I don’t think we’ll be doing that,” I tell her.
Adam cuts me a sharp look, which baffles me until I see Mae lower her phone screen and lock it again. She smiles sweetly at me. “That’s a shame. It would really help me out. And since you need me to help you out… maybe you could reconsider?”
“… Are you blackmailing me right now?”
“I mean, that feels a bit dramatic.” Mae’s nose wrinkles as she laughs. “But kind of, I guess. I’ll take down the post if you do this event.”
Unreal. Un-fucking-real. I open my mouth to light into Mae, but she rolls her eyes and beats me to the punch.
“It’s seriously not that big of a deal. It’ll take half an hour, tops. And the grand prize is twenty-five hundred, so it’s really a win-win situation.”
That gives me pause. “Twenty-five hundred dollars?”
She nods pleasantly. “You two are, like, relationship goals. You’ll probably win.”
I decide to ignore that comment, because it’s bonkers. Instead, I turn to face Adam, who is frowning in a way that suggests he is as baffled and resigned as I am.
“Still a few hours before the show,” I hedge, despite the anxiety building in my stomach. In an ideal world, I’d already be back at my hotel. I’d be showering and maybe squeezing in a nap because a few hours is barely enough time to get my head in the right place for tonight.
Adam checks his phone, like he doesn’t trust my ability to tell time. “Probably the best chance at getting the money without having to explain ourselves to anyone.”
Without anyone potentially learning we got married, is what he means. Which, again, is a goal he and I share. Even if I’m less inclined to constantly comment on how humiliating it would be if people found out.
I turn back to Mae. “So… I guess we’re doing this.”
“Yay!” She grins broadly at me, as though she didn’t have to twist my arm to get me to agree. She leads us around the first pool and through a row of cabanas, until we reach an open space near one of the bars. There’s a small stage set up, in view of two of the pool areas.
“We’ll be getting started in about twenty. Feel free to grab a drink on the house while you wait, okay?”
How generous. Too bad I’m never touching alcohol again.
She points to the stage. “The Ryan Seacrest look-alike testing the mic onstage is Jonathan, our MC. He’ll be over in a bit to give all of you guys a rundown of the rules and explain how the game is going to work.
” She glances at the borderline-deserted patio area in front of the stage and purses her lips.
“Meanwhile, I’m going to go wrangle up more of a crowd. ”
Adam and I stand side by side, wearing twin frowns as we take in the group of people standing next to the stage, who I can only assume are the other contestants.
They’re all dressed in resort wear, the men in board shorts and linen button-downs.
Everyone is wearing some form of swimwear, come to think of it, which makes sense given we’re standing on a pool deck.
I tug the hem of my cutoff shorts and feel too grungy for this scene.
Mae starts to step away, then hesitates, her purple lips scrunched to one side.
“Okay, I know I kind of roped you guys into this, but the idea is we want people excited to get married here. So can you at least pretend to be having fun? You’re newlyweds! Give us some PDA!”
While I watch Mae leave, Adam watches me.
I feel his sidelong stare like a caress, starting at my neck and traveling all the way down my torso.
I stand stock-still as he slides a stiff arm around me.
His hand flutters over the curve of my waist for a moment before balling into a fist, which he rests featherlight against my hip bone, like he’s trying to minimize points of contact as much as possible.
“Jesus, if it’s that painful for you to touch me then forget it,” I snap, nudging his hand away from me.
It’s not like I’m thrilled with the prospect of getting onstage and pretending to be in love with Adam either. But given that the only alternative involves begging our loved ones to bail us out, I would think he could suck it up for an hour and quit acting like I have cooties.
He should be so lucky to land someone like me in real life. I’m a better-than-average cook, a tidy roommate, I don’t snore when I sleep. I’m like an LA eight and a Midwest ten. So contrary to what Adam seems to think, I am top-shelf wife material.
Adam shifts to stand behind me. His hands find my hips, and my breath hitches when he tugs me closer, so my back is flush against his chest. One of his hands shifts to splay across my stomach. My abs tense. He dips his head so his lips skim the shell of my ear.
“I’m sorry for earlier. What I said about people thinking we’re involved.”
I shrug and try to relax my shoulders. “No big deal.”
Super not a big deal. I am, in fact, completely unfazed by anything Adam has ever said to or about me, and also by the span of his palm against my stomach. I let one hand come to rest atop Adam’s forearm to prove it, and lift the other to examine my nails.
“I didn’t mean it as a slight against you,” he continues.
His thumb sweeps softly back and forth against my shirt, and my stomach clenches again in response.
“I’m not usually one to bend the rules. The idea of using the company card for something I’m not supposed to and getting caught freaks me out.
But let me be perfectly clear: the idea that someone might assume we’re together is not the issue.
Not a single thing about you is embarrassing.
” He considers this for a moment, and then adds: “Aside from the fact that you like Justin Bieber.”