7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Ethan leaned back in the sleek leather chair, stretching his legs out as he watched Paige glare at their editors like they’d just suggested she set her manuscript on fire.
If he weren’t used to Marsha’s no-nonsense approach, he might’ve been just as stunned.
He wasn’t. But Paige? Oh, she was appalled.
“We’re supposed to what ?” Paige’s voice sliced through the room like a blade.
Kaylor, Paige’s editor, beamed, completely unfazed.
“Isn’t it perf?” she said as if everyone should immediately be on board.
Ethan assumed she’d meant “perfect,” but the word got lost somewhere between her throat and the bouncing blonde ponytail.
She had to be in her twenties, but looked like she might be skipping out on high school.
Then again, at forty, every twenty-year-old looked fourteen to him. Had he ever looked that young?
Across the table, Marsha barely blinked at Paige’s reaction.
Windy City Press’s senior editor was as battle-tested as they came.
She had two decades in publishing and an unshakable instinct for sales.
And she didn’t accept no as an answer. Clasping her hands atop the pristine white table, Marsha’s expression was as straight as the shoulder pads in her blazer.
“Fake date,” Marsha repeated, like it was the most logical conclusion in the world. “The pictures of you two at Midnight Sweets went viral overnight. The internet already believes you’re together. We’d be fools not to capitalize on it.”
Ethan had seen the photos—Paige “swooning” in his arms, their hands nearly touching as they shared a slice of pie. His social media had exploded with speculation. #EthanColeMovedOn had been trending all morning, which, apparently, had sent Kaylor and Marsha into matchmaking mode.
“I saw the post go viral and reached out to Marsha with the idea,” Kaylor said, glowing with pride.
Marsha arched a brow, but didn’t look at Kaylor. “And despite the fact that Kaylor has been here for about two seconds, and I’ve been in publishing since she was in preschool, I liked it. It’s a good idea.”
Kaylor beamed, either missing or ignoring the dig.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ethan admitted, fighting the urge to smirk. The situation wasn’t actually funny, but he was used to people gossiping about his life, assuming they knew him. He’d learned that fighting it was harder than just letting them talk.
Paige, however, looked ready to riot.
“What am I? A trope in a rom-com?” She scoffed. “I’m not an actor. I don’t fake date. I write books. That’s the job.”
“That’s part of the job,” Marsha corrected smoothly, unmoved. “The other part is selling books. And nothing sells better than a love story. Especially a real one.”
“But it’s not real,” Paige countered, turning to Ethan, clearly looking for backup.
He shifted in his seat, planting his feet on the ground. At one time, he thought he understood what made love real—but he wasn’t so sure anymore. Love, he’d learned, wasn’t about words or grand gestures. It was about trust. And trust? That was the part that always crumbled.
Love could be a carefully constructed illusion, something people convinced themselves was real .
. . until it shattered. But attraction? That was different.
That was instant, undeniable. And he’d felt it, clear as day, when he held Paige yesterday.
The way she’d looked up at him, wide-eyed, startled.
The part of her lips, like she’d forgotten to breathe.
Her faint, sweet scent still lingered in his thoughts, distracting him at the worst moments.
There’d been a flicker of something. Something sharp. Electric.
It wouldn’t be hard to pretend to be Paige’s boyfriend.
It might even be fun.
“Ethan?” Paige’s voice pulled him back. All three women were watching him, waiting.
He straightened, offering Marsha a casual shrug. “I’m in if Paige is.”
Marsha gave a rare grin. Kaylor clapped.
“What?” Paige’s head snapped back so fast he was mildly concerned for her neck.
Ethan lifted a shoulder. “It makes sense. People are already talking. We might as well use it to our advantage.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Paige stared at him like he’d just agreed to sell his soul.
“They’re going to talk, whether or not we want them to,” he replied evenly. “Besides, this way, we control the narrative.”
“And the narrative is that Ethan Cole and Paige Moon are in love. They know what romance is.” Marsha glared at them over the table like she was laying down a winning poker hand.
“Ethan, you need to capitalize on this to attract a larger female readership. Paige, you need to regain the trust of your readers. Create a fantasy. Show the world you know what love is, so they know without a doubt that you can write it. And that you won’t kill it. ”
Paige winced. Then she turned to Ethan, and they exchanged a glance. He shrugged, trying to tell her this was no big deal. It would be easy.
Paige exhaled sharply, as if Marsha’s comments had worn her down. “What exactly are we supposed to do to ‘fake date’?” She made air quotes, her skepticism still present.
“It won’t be that hard,” Ethan replied. “We’re going to be together, anyway, searching for clues. We’ll just take a few photos along the way.”
“You’ll send them to me,” Kaylor added, her gaze bouncing between them. “Marketing will post them on our socials. If you take video, we can make reels. There’s this trending dance on TikTok—”
“No dancing,” Paige cut in, her glare snapping Kaylor’s mouth shut mid-sentence. “Absolutely no TikTok dancing. I will not go that low for anything.”
Ethan smothered a laugh. He liked Paige’s bluntness. She didn’t sugarcoat, didn’t waste time. It was refreshing.
“No dancing,” he agreed with a nod. “But a few pictures? To help push preorders of our book? It’s not the worst idea.”
Paige exhaled, deeper this time. “This is ridiculous.”
Was she reluctantly agreeing? Ethan held his breath, waiting for a final “yes.”
“One picture a week until the book launch,” Kaylor bargained. “We can make that work.”
Paige bit her lower lip, and her expression turned . . . calculating? Ethan wasn’t sure if she was about to cave or walk out the door. He could practically hear the gears grinding in her head.
Then Paige blurted, “I want a bigger advance. Add an extra zero.”
Kaylor choked. Marsha didn’t flinch—at least, not outwardly. Ethan’s grip tightened on the armrests, as if he were watching the climax of a movie.
Arching a brow, Paige suddenly looked cool and composed. “We went viral on accident. Imagine what we can do when we actually put our minds to it.”
Silence stretched. The clock ticked loudly, thickening the tension in the air. Ethan wasn’t sure how Marsha would react. He was just about to back Paige up when Marsha said, “I can make that happen.”
Kaylor sputtered again, but Paige’s lips curved in a slow, satisfied curl. She shot Ethan a look—one that sent a sharp sizzle through his chest.
Dang .
She was smart as a whip. And just as dangerous.
As Ethan watched Paige tuck a curl behind her ear, eyes dancing with mischief and delight, his jaw tightened. He had a sinking feeling—that he wasn’t walking into a simple arrangement.
He was walking straight into the fire.
And he thought he liked it.