7. Vivienne
Vivienne
"You're out of your damn mind."
Laura stares at me across her kitchen island, wine glass frozen halfway to her lips. I've just finished telling her about my impulsive announcement at the Met, the media storm that followed, and the agreement Jaxon and I made this morning.
"It's a strategic arrangement," I say, sipping my own Pinot. "Mutually beneficial."
"It's insanity." She sets down her glass with a decisive thunk. "You're fake-engaged to your ex's billionaire rockstar brother. That's not strategy, Viv. That's a Lifetime movie."
I can't help laughing. "When you put it that way..."
"And when exactly were you planning to tell me? Your supposed best friend?" She's trying to look hurt, but curiosity is winning out. "I had to find out from Page Six's Instagram!"
"It all happened so fast," I admit. "One minute I'm getting drenched in the rain, the next I'm announcing our engagement to a pack of reporters."
Laura shakes her head in disbelief. "Only you could turn a rainstorm into an engagement to Manhattan's most eligible bachelor."
"A fake engagement," I correct.
"With very real consequences." Her expression turns serious. "Have you thought this through? Really thought it through?"
I sigh, setting down my wine. "Yes and no. The logical part makes perfect sense—I get career independence from my father; Jaxon gets stability for Lily's custody case."
"And the non-logical part?"
I hesitate, unsure how to articulate the electric current that seems to spark between Jaxon and me whenever we're close. The way his eyes darken when they meet mine. The inexplicable comfort I felt watching him with Lily.
"It's complicated," I say finally. "There's... something there. A connection I wasn't expecting."
Laura's eyes widen. "Oh my god. You actually like him."
"I respect him," I correct hastily. "He's not what I expected. He's devoted to Lily, passionate about his music, surprisingly... real."
"Uh-huh." Her knowing smile makes me squirm. "And the fact that he's gorgeous, talented, and rich is just a bonus?"
I roll my eyes. "You're not helping."
"I'm just saying, if you're going to have a fake fiancé, you could do worse." She refills our glasses. "What about physical boundaries? Please tell me you've discussed those."
"Basic PDA only," I confirm. "Hand-holding, occasional kiss for cameras, nothing serious."
"And when 'basic PDA' turns into not-so-basic attraction? Because I've seen pictures of Jaxon Hart, and 'basic' is not a word I'd use to describe him."
I feel my cheeks warm. "We're adults. We can handle attraction without acting on it."
"Sure," Laura agrees, entirely unconvinced. "Just like adults handle fake engagements without developing real feelings."
"Six months," I remind her. "That's our timeline. Then we have an amicable parting, both having gotten what we needed."
"And Lily? What about her? Children don't understand 'strategic arrangements.'"
The question hits harder than expected. I think of Lily's excited face this morning as I braided her hair, her immediate acceptance, her easy laughter.
"That's... something we're navigating carefully," I admit. "She's already been abandoned by her mother and lost her father. We don't want to hurt her."
Laura studies me over the rim of her wine glass. "You're in deeper than you realize, aren't you?"
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. Richard Bentley, my boss.
"I have to take this," I say, grateful for the interruption. Laura's questions are hitting too close to insecurities I'm not ready to examine.
"Vivienne," Richard's voice booms as I answer. "Just the woman I wanted to speak with. Quite the headline-maker, aren't you?"
"Good morning, Richard," I reply, keeping my tone professional despite his jovial familiarity. "I was going to call you—"
"No need to explain! Gerald Lumina personally called to congratulate me on having such a well-connected executive on our team." He laughs. "Said your presentation yesterday was 'exactly what Lumina needs to move forward.'"
Relief washes over me. I'd been so nervous about that presentation, especially with the added pressure of my sudden engagement announcement.
"That's great to hear," I say. "The team worked incredibly hard on the concept."
"About that," Richard says, his tone shifting slightly. "I'm making some adjustments to the team structure. Given your new... personal situation, I think it makes sense to bring Derek in as co-lead."
My relief evaporates instantly. "Excuse me?"
"Just to manage workflow, of course," he continues smoothly. "Your engagement to Jaxon Hart is wonderful for the agency, but we need to ensure the Lumina account has consistent attention during this exciting personal time for you."
Derek. The same Derek who dismissed my campaign as "too feminine." The same Derek who's been trying to undermine me since day one.
"That won't be necessary," I say, my voice cooling several degrees. "My personal life won't affect my professional commitments."
"Vivienne," Richard's tone takes on that patronizing quality men so often use when they think they're being reasonable. "Being engaged to a celebrity comes with obligations. Appearances, interviews—"
"All of which I can manage while leading my team," I interrupt. "I won the Lumina account. My concept secured their business. Derek wasn't even part of the pitch."
Laura watches with raised eyebrows as my voice sharpens. She's seen this battle before—the constant need to assert my place in a field where men like Richard and Derek still believe women need their "help."
"It's already decided," Richard says firmly. "Derek starts co-leading on Monday. Consider it support, not replacement."
"And if I disagree?"
A pause. "Then perhaps you're not as committed to the agency as I thought."
The threat is clear. Accept Derek or risk my position entirely.
"I'll see you Monday," I say tightly, ending the call before I say something I'll regret.
"That good, huh?" Laura asks as I set my phone down with more force than necessary.
"They're bringing Derek in as co-lead on my account," I fume. "Because apparently being engaged means I can't do my job properly."
"Would this be the same Derek who said women don't understand sports advertising? During a presentation to the WNBA?"
"The very same." I drain my wine glass. "Richard claims it's to 'manage workflow during my exciting personal time.'"
"Bullshit," Laura says succinctly. "It's to let Derek take credit for your work now that the account is secured."
"Exactly." I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "The irony is, this engagement was supposed to give me more professional freedom, not less."
Laura's expression softens. "So what will you do?"
"I don't know." I stare into my empty glass. "I could fight it, but Richard made it clear that would put my position at risk. I could accept it and watch Derek slowly take over my account. Or..."
"Or?"
"Or I could lean into this engagement so hard that even Richard Bentley won't dare touch my position." The idea forms as I speak it. "If Jaxon and I are the power couple the media wants us to be, I become too valuable for the agency to sideline."
Laura gives me a skeptical look. "That means making this fake engagement very public, very fast."
"Which is exactly what we need to do for Lily's custody case anyway," I reason. "Jaxon got a threatening text from Zackery Dean yesterday morning. He's already suspicious about our timing."
"So you're doubling down?"
"Going all in," I correct, picking up my phone to text Jaxon.
Need to talk. Richard trying to demote me. Time to accelerate our timeline?
His response comes surprisingly quickly:
Dinner tonight at the house. 7 pm. Bring what you'll need for the weekend. Press already watching the mansion.
I show Laura the message, and her eyebrows shoot up. "Weekend stay at the Hart mansion already? That escalated quickly."
"It's just for show," I say, though my suddenly racing pulse suggests otherwise. "We need to look committed."
"Uh-huh." She smirks. "Should I help you pack for this 'just for show' sleepover with your hot fake fiancé?"
Two hours later, Laura and I have assembled what she calls my "Convincing Fiancée Starter Kit"—a suitcase with enough clothes for a long weekend, including both business attire and casual wear.
Despite my protests, she's insisted on adding some impractically pretty lingerie "for your own confidence" and an emergency makeup kit "for those surprise morning photo ops. "
"Remember, the press will be watching what you wear, how you look, how you interact," she advises as we close the suitcase. "Everything is evidence of your relationship's authenticity."
"You're weirdly invested in making my fake engagement convincing," I observe.
Laura shrugs. "If you're doing this, do it right. Besides, I've seen how you look when you talk about him. Maybe this arrangement won't be fake for long."
"Six months," I remind her. "Expiration date, remember?"
"We'll see," she says, entirely too knowing for my comfort. "Now, let's get you to your fiancé's mansion before the press realizes you're still at your apartment."
The paparazzi are already stationed outside Jaxon's gates when the car he sent arrives.
Flashbulbs explode as the car slows, and I hear shouts of my name even through the closed windows.
The security guard checks my ID, then waves us through, the massive gates closing behind us to keep the photographers at bay.
The mansion is even more impressive in daylight than it was during my hasty morning visit. Three stories of elegant stone and glass, surrounded by manicured gardens and a circular driveway where the car stops.
Before I can reach for the door, it opens from the outside. Jaxon stands there, one hand extended to help me out, the other holding back an excited Lily. The perfect family tableau for any long-lens cameras pointed our way.
"Welcome home," he says, loud enough to carry. The warmth in his voice sounds genuine enough to momentarily confuse me.