And even if it’s necessary, it would be nice if he didn't say it so casually.
I start to type out a text telling him I can’t go through with this. But I think of the studio. Of the paychecks. Of the way I feel when I get up in the morning knowing I am about to go write music at Hardin Records and I backspace until the text screen is clean.
Amanda: I’m on my way down.
I shake my head at my own inability to back down and tell myself that this, all of this, is for the greater good.
I just have to play along.
And with how many games I’ve played to survive living in my sister’s shadow over the years, I think I can manage one little fake relationship and a hidden accidental marriage.
“Remember,” Callum says as we ride the elevator up to the roof of Seared. “Just smile. Look like you’re supposed to be here.”
“Am I though? Supposed to be here I mean.” I shift my weight tugging at my dress. It feels weird wearing it anywhere other than the strip of Vegas under the lights of the city.
“You are my wife, legally and for our agreement. So yes. As far as everyone in that room is concerned, I chose you. I want you. And everyone in there is going to believe it.”
“I’m glad one of us is confident. I’m not great at working rooms,” I mumble, pulling at the hem again. God, was it this tight in Vegas? My boobs are shoved up and out so far I can hardly see my feet. I could have toilet paper stuck to the heel of my stiletto and I wouldn’t even know.
“We aren’t just going to work the room, Amanda. We are going to rule it. Also,” Callum reaches out and takes my hand in his. “Stop fussing with the dress. You look incredible.”
My breath catches in the back of my throat and my heart slams into my ribcage.
Is this…acting?
The door opens and we are still standing there, staring at each other, his mouth close enough to mine that if I simply tilted my chin up, our lips would touch.
But he looks away, his jawline sharp and an intense gaze in his eyes.
The elevator literally opens to the rooftop lounge and heads turn our direction.
Callum puts his hand on my lower back, his skin warm on mine, and he guides me out.
“Just keep smiling,” he says almost without moving his lips.
We make our way through the small lounge, past the tiny candle-lit tables occupied by formally dressed couples. A bar stretches across the wall lined with hundreds of bottles all lit with a warm orange light. We head out the back to the patio overlooking the city. There, a handful of people sit at the only table.
The Hardin’s.
I recognize Noah, the agent from yesterday who led me upstairs. With him is a thin woman in a sleek black dress. She has warm brown skin and an easy smile and a tattoo of a black rose on her collarbone.
Next to Noah is Avery. I know him because he looks similar to Callum but a little rougher. His features are sharper, and he’s got a glint in his eyes and a mischief on his lips that tells me he is the more reckless of the Hardin twins. A tall, also thin, woman with long straight blonde hair and a pink ball gown is sitting across from Avery next to the girl with the tattoo.
There are two vacant chairs next to Avery and the blonde, saved for us I assume.
And after that, sitting at the head of the table is Hiram Hardin. I know it’s him because I’ve looked him up more than once. He’s also all over the internet and there are several framed photos of him throughout Hardin Records.
He stands up, along with Noah and Avery.
“Son. You made it.” Hiram shakes Callum’s hand before his eyes trail over to me. “And who is your guest?” His eyes fall onme hard and it takes everything in me not to curl up into a ball or even leap off the edge of the building.
I very much do not fit in here.
But Callum doesn’t waver. He doesn’t miss a beat. And his hand is still sitting warm on my back. “This is Amanda. She is our new writer.”
“I see. I didn’t realize we were choosing random plus ones. Maybe I would have asked the secretary to join us.”
I can feel the heat in my face, as much as I try to keep it hidden. I am nothing short of mortified. But then Hiram lets out a haughty laugh. I look at the table and see Avery smiling as well. Noah’s face hasn’t changed (it never does), and the girls look bored.
