Chapter 33 Nova #2

Her hand tightened on mine, but her expression didn’t shift, only softening. I took a deep breath and quickly told her the story—the whirlwind of everything that had led to this point, from the press conference I saw before I boarded to the pregnancy test result in the airplane bathroom.

Iris squeezed my hand as she leaned forward. “I was so sorry to hear about Austin. I always hoped he’d pull himself together, for your sake, but . . .” She paused, and I looked at her. She was right. Everything she warned me about. “You deserved better, Nova.”

“Leaving was the best decision I’ve ever made, even if it was terrifying at the time. Being here, starting over . . . it’s been everything I didn’t know I needed. Thank you for giving me this opportunity and for firing me.”

Iris smiled warmly, brushing her thumb over my knuckles. “I always knew you’d find your way. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

I tilted my head, curious. “How’s work? Still running the show like you always do?”

“I’m thinking about retiring in a few years,” she admitted. “I don’t have forever to do this, and . . . well, I’m seeing someone. Life’s too short not to enjoy it while I can.”

A genuine smile spread across my face. “I’m so happy for you, Iris. You deserve that.”

She squeezed my hand one more time before sitting back in her chair. “Enough about me. What can I do to help you, Nova?”

I took a deep breath. “I need your expertise,” I said, my tone serious. “I can explain everything, but I could really use your help.”

Iris nodded without hesitation. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

She stood and walked to the door, motioning for Ollie and Peter to come back in. As they entered, Ollie’s gaze landed on me, concern and curiosity mingling in his expression. He moved to sit beside me, his hand instinctively reaching for mine under the table.

I glanced at him briefly, a small, reassuring smile on my lips before I turned back to Iris. “Let’s figure this out.”

I cleared my throat, leaning forward slightly as I laid out the plan.

“Here’s what we’re thinking. We’re coordinating with a mid-level paparazzo to get a few photos of Ollie and me walking around town.

The idea is to sell the image that we’re together and that the baby is part of that narrative.

If Austin ever googles me, that’s all he’ll see.

He won’t know the full story. I don’t want him—an addict—having to find out through the wrong channels or trying to interfere. ”

Iris’s brows knit together thoughtfully as I continued. “We need it to look clean, casual, and believable. Just enough for people to draw their own conclusions without us confirming or denying anything.”

Ollie nodded beside me, his hand resting on the table, his voice firm as he chimed in. “That’s why I’m here. A few photos in the media—her pregnant, my hand in hers. It goes on the internet, and boom, the story writes itself. It’s about protecting her and the baby, keeping everything contained.”

Iris tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed the information. “It’s a decent plan,” she admitted, leaning back in her chair. “But if you’re going to do this, you need to go bigger. A mid-level paparazzo isn’t going to control the narrative the way you need.”

Peter nodded, folding his arms. “She’s right. This has to hit the right channels, or it could get messy.”

Iris turned to me, a confident gleam in her eye. “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll call my people over at one of the bigger American magazines. We’ll coordinate a shoot—it’ll be simple, tasteful, but high-impact. The kind of thing that sells credibility. I can get them here in two days to make it happen.”

Ollie frowned slightly. “Two days? That quick?”

Iris smirked. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Ollie. The photos will sell directly to the magazine, and they’ll handle the print distribution. Everyone can come up with their own conclusions. No need for you two to say a word.”

Iris leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and giving Ollie a pointed look.

“If this is going to work,” she said, her tone sharp and matter-of-fact, “you two will need to keep up appearances. Dating, public outings—this isn’t a one-off.

The media loves a good follow-up, and if you drop the ball, it’ll unravel fast.”

The air in the room grew thick as all eyes turned to Ollie.

Peter, sitting across the table, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the shift in tension.

Ollie didn’t even flinch. He turned to me, his hand still resting on mine, his eyes warm as he said, “I’m in it for as long as she’ll have me.”

My cheeks flushed under his steady gaze.

Peter let out a bark of laughter, clapping his hands together as he looked at Iris. “Fucking genius.” He shook his head in disbelief.

Iris smirked. “That’s why I’m here.”

Ollie squeezed my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Whatever it takes,” he said quietly, his words meant for me alone.

Peter leaned forward. “Don’t worry about the Hands, Nova. We’ve got this handled. Your job is solid, and the team is on board with whatever we need to do to keep this narrative clean. You’re good.”

I nodded, relief washing over me as I stood and turned to Iris. “Thank you so much for coming out here. You didn’t have to, but it means the world.”

Iris waved off the gratitude with a casual flick of her hand. “Of course I did. You’ve got enough on your plate without dealing with this solo.”

As we exited the conference room, she sent me a quick text with the details of the magazine meeting, ensuring everything was in motion. When I suggested dinner, she shook her head.

“Not this time,” she said, slipping on her coat. “I’m catching a train to Paris tonight. I’ve got plans.”

I hugged her tightly, her familiar scent bringing back flashes of Chicago and all the moments she’d been in my corner.

“Thank you,” I murmured, pulling back reluctantly.

Iris gave me a knowing look, resting her hand on my arm. “Keep him, Nova. He’s good.”

I smiled softly, her words lingering in my mind as I walked down the hall, finding Ollie leaning against the wall, waiting for me. His gaze softened as he spotted me.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, straightening.

I nodded, sliding my hand into his as we walked out together.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.