11. Brooklyn
brOOKLYN
Luka is really good at playing fiancé.
We’re in the den of his penthouse and I can’t stop the flutters in my stomach. In just a few minutes, the primetime gossip show Celebrity Chat will air—and millions of people will see the interview where Luka and I announce our engagement. I’m a ball of nerves.
Luka, meanwhile, is digging around in his kitchen for snacks like we’re about to watch a college football game.
“Do you like olives?” he calls out to me from the other room.
“Sure,” I answer, though I don’t have much of an appetite.
I have to admit, it’s kind of sweet that he invited me over for the airing.
The interview had been a lot more fun than I’d expected.
Luka was surprisingly attentive and affectionate, giving the host no reason to suspect that our relationship was all a sham.
I mean, I almost believed our engagement was real by the time we were done.
A couple of weeks have gone by since we decided to do this, and I’m finally starting to feel comfortable with my decision.
We even took my parents out for lunch to break the news, and he charmed the pants off them both.
“Prosecco or water?” he asks, dropping off a couple of crystal flutes on the coffee table.
“Water’s great,” I say with an anxious smile. I wouldn’t mind a drink to calm my nerves, honestly, but I know Luka’s on a strict alcohol limit, and it feels nice to support him this way. Especially considering how supportive he’s been.
He’s gone out of his way to soothe my worries the past few weeks, exhibiting incredible patience every time I call or text him, and he readily agreed when I asked if we could color-coordinate our outfits for the Celebrity Chat interview.
But what really blew me away was how he’d held my hand during the entire course of the filming, his grip sure and steady.
Even the show host had remarked on our obvious chemistry, and the fact that Luka couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off me.
I’d been enjoying it. Not going to lie. There were times it had almost seemed real.
He bustles back in and sets down an amazing spread of cheese, crackers, and other assorted gourmet accoutrements and then pours us both water with sliced lemon from a carafe.
“This is way too fancy,” I say, swiping a few red grapes. “Did you really put this together yourself?”
“Oh, Brooklyn. You’ll soon find out I’m a man of…many hidden talents,” he says with a smirk, his gaze dropping lazily down my body and back up again.
There’s a familiar tightening between my legs, and I force myself to look away. I didn’t come over here to have sex with my fake fiancé, I remind myself.
Feeling the need to deflect the sexual tension, I tease, “You seem excited about this.”
His smile gets more genuine. “Honestly, when my brother said I had to get married, I thought my life was imploding. But if I have to go through with this, I’m glad it’s with you.”
He puts his hand on my knee and I take a sip of water because my throat is suddenly dry. I don’t want to tame his enthusiasm—it makes us look good—but I can’t help feeling thrown by the fact that he’s diving head-first into this whole thing while I’m still struggling with my guilt.
Being level-headed is my default, and so far, I’ve kept my integrity while growing my career, which isn’t easy to do in the modeling industry.
But in agreeing to this marriage, I made the decision to let some of that integrity slide, and now I’m struggling to remind myself that it’s no big deal.
People do sketchy things to reach their career goals all the time.
I’ll fit right in with all the uber successful.
I just have to keep my head on straight and remember what this is.
A business arrangement.
I glance at my fiancé. He’ll never have to know the true extent of what I’ve done. And in the end, it doesn’t matter.
The theme music for the show suddenly comes on full blast, and my heart skips a beat.
“It’s starting,” Luka says, grabbing the remote. “Do you have the picture of your ring ready to go?”
“Locked and loaded,” I answer, pulling out my phone.
His cologne surrounds me as he adjusts his body on the loveseat, leaning into me.
Little goosebumps run down my spine as his warmth radiates against me from thigh to shoulder.
I tense up a bit in anticipation of his arm going around me, but instead he reaches for a brie-smeared cracker and turns up the volume on the fifty-two-inch flat screen.
I scroll through my photos until I land on the money shot—our hands clasped over a backdrop of the Chicago skyline lit up at night, my diamond ring sparkling obscenely—already zoomed and filtered to perfection.
As soon as the Celebrity Chat host announces our engagement, I’ll be putting up the pic on my Insta account.
With luck, people will care enough to keep the happy news rolling through social media until our faces are plastered everywhere.
Luka’s thigh tenses against mine and my nipples perk.
I’m wearing a thin bralette and an off-the-shoulder top, which I’m sure do little to hide my reaction to him, but he’s so focused on the TV that he doesn’t notice.
I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed about that.
I like it when he touches me, and I want more.
It’s a good way to test my boundaries, I tell myself.
See how far we can take things as a fake couple.
Theoretically, sex is on the table, but I’m not ready for it.
Yet.
“Here we go,” Luka says.
Suddenly, I’m staring at myself on screen, cozied up to one of the hottest men alive, gushing about how in love we are.
The host chats and laughs excitedly as if she just can’t get enough of us.
I don’t remember her being so exuberant during the actual interview; I’d been too nervous to soak up much of what was actually happening.
“…such a whirlwind,” I say on screen, nuzzling against Luka’s shoulder.
“I’d actually taken a break from dating when we met, but you know what they say about love at first sight,” Luka tells the host, managing to sound sincere, and they both laugh.
“We look great together,” I say, turning to Luka to gauge his reaction.
“There was never any doubt about that,” he says, absently tracing circles over my knee with his finger. A little shiver runs through me, and I drag my eyes back to the show.
It’s a relief to watch myself now and realize that I got through all the host’s questions without making a fool of myself on national TV. My pulse kicks up another notch as the interview reaches the moment that Luka and I have been waiting for.
“So…let’s see the ring!” the host says, leaning forward, and I give her my hand with a thrilled smile while the shot jump-cuts to a close up.
“Instagram time,” Luka says.
As if I needed a reminder. I hit upload, and our eyes lock as I wait for the photo to pop up on my IG account…and just like that, my beautiful diamond is out there for the whole world to see.
I flash him my phone screen. “Our engagement is officially official,” I tell him.
“Here goes nothing,” he says, leaning back with a relieved sigh and turning down the TV.
Within seconds, my phone starts buzzing nonstop with social media notifications.
I’m almost afraid to see what’s happening on IG, but Luka’s looking at me expectantly.
So I open up the app, and I can’t believe it.
I have a pretty active following, but this is crazy.
My account is blowing up with hundreds of followers already congratulating us and sharing the pic.
The comments and shares are rolling in so fast, I can’t keep up.
“Whoa!” I laugh. “People are going nuts. It hasn’t even been five minutes!”
He arches a brow. “No one expected me to ever settle down. I’m sure the news is worth gossiping about.”
“Ah yes, your playboy ways are the true impetus to our success.” I’m teasing, even though there’s a big dose of truth in that.
“This calls for a celebration,” Luka announces. “Let me go rustle up some champagne.”
“You sure?” I ask. “Don’t want to throw off your weekend quota.”
“You’re worth it,” he says with a smile, and I can feel my cheeks heating.
My phone vibrates with an incoming call just as he leaves the room. I glance down and let out a gasp when I realize it’s Elite Image. I consider declining the call, but I don’t want to risk them calling over and over again while I’m here in Luka’s penthouse.
Scrambling from the sofa, I pick up and hurry to the hallway, keeping my voice low. “You can’t be calling me like this,” I scold in a harsh whisper.
“My apologies,” says the male voice on the other line, “I should have called from another number. Just wanted to say we saw your engagement announcement. It came as a surprise to us, as you can imagine. Does this mean you aren’t interested in what we discussed?”
I rub my eyes and listen for any sound of Luka returning to the living room.
I’ve been stressing about this nonstop, but I’m still not sure what to say.
Yes, I have my contract with Danica Rose now, but the company is still so vulnerable after KZM’s trafficking scandal that I’d be a fool not to cast my net wide in case DRM collapses.
I’m learning quickly that in this business, you can never have too many back-up plans.
“No, of course not,” I gush. “I’m definitely still interested.
” Maybe I should have informed them about the engagement in advance, but honestly, I didn’t think they’d care how I went about getting them what they want from Danica Rose, as long as they got their results.
And with everything going on, I’d tried to put Elite out of my mind as much as possible.
“Great. You’ll still be able to deliver everything that we’ve asked for?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “It won’t be a problem.”
“Perfect. Let’s just run through the details one more time.”