“Shit,” Rome mumbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shrugged a shoulder, “No one does. We’ve all made sure of that.”
“Why?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.
“You’ve seen what my life is like. I’m being followed constantly by reporters and cameras. Every move is documented and scrutinized, and I can’t even sneeze without some article coming out about it. It was the same when I was growing up. And don’t even get me started on Upper East Side society. Those people are piranhas when it comes to any amount of gossip. It’s easier to keep it quiet than to deal with the consequences of it becoming public.”
“Shouldn’t your dad have to deal with the consequences?” Rome argued.
“Whether he should or would are two different things entirely. Should he? Yes. Would he? Never. My dad could buy his way out of nearly anything,” I explained. “It would require espionage or literal murder for him to finally face any consequences. And even then, it would probably just be a slap on the wrist.”
Rome was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes scrutinizing. It was rare that he seemed so serious, and I didn’t like it. The usual person I dealt with was annoying… but this side of him was something else. Almost scary.
He took a steadying breath and the usual light returned to his eyes, “Well, we can agree that fucking sucks.”
A startled laugh fell past my lips, “Yeah, it really does.”
“So, it seems we both have some pretty serious daddy issues, don’t we?” Rome joked, lightening the heavy mood that had fallen over the car ride.
“You’re ridiculous, Rome.”
“That I am, Bec. That. I. Am.”
We sat in companionable silence for a moment more, and I couldn’t help but feel closer to him. He was proving there was more to him than met the eye.
Though what met the eye wasn’t half bad. I had Andi send him a suit. I probably should have been concerned about how well she knew his size, because it fit perfectly and somehow only improved his appearance, which was hard to do.
Did I like the man all that much? No.
Did I like looking at the man? Absolutely.
He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Add an expensive suit that fits perfectly, and he becomes lethal.
“Do you remember what we spoke about? How to behave tonight?”
Rome smirked, “Why do you assume I am going to make a fool of you? I can charm a bunch of rich as fuck politicians and socialites.”
How could you not roll your eyes at that?
“Maybe don’t call them rich as fuck.”
“Aren’t they?” He challenged.
I smirked, “Compared to me? No.”
Rome barked out a laugh, and my heart fluttered knowing that I had caused that sound. Which was absolutely not allowed.
We sat in amicable silence for the remainder of the drive. I wasn’t ready to finally take this fake relationship for a spin, but after another night of running it over with Alexandra—and talking it over with my brother—I knew it was what I needed to sway the board.
Will did offer to bring his brother-in-laws, and I quote, ‘fuck the board up,’ but I politely declined. Physical violence was a final resort.
Between having Rome by my side and making more societal appearances, I would sway the board to my side in no time.
The flashing lights drew my attention to the carpet. This was the part I was dreading the most. I didn’t do reporters. They were leeches who were willing to lie if it meant they had a good story.
“Wait here,” Rome instructed as the car came to a stop. “I’ll come around and get your door.”
Before I could respond, Rome was out of the car and rounding the back towards me.
