I glance at Callum, unsure how he'll handle this intrusion into our personal lives.
To my surprise, his full lips break out into a smile.
"We're still workshopping potential hashtags," he says with perfect deadpan delivery."Ms.Peters feels #KiltedCasanova lacks longevity, while I find her suggestion of #AuthenticityEver somewhat lacking in viral potential."
Startled laughter ripples through the room, breaking the tension.
"In all seriousness," he adds, "our personal relationship status is secondary to our professional commitment to transforming Abernathy Corp into a company that values authentic talent in all its forms."
The response is diplomatic yet cleverly evasive—pure CEO billionaire brilliance—but then he reaches over and takes my hand, a gesture so unexpected and public that I nearly gasp.
"But yes," he concludes, "we are together.And remarkably happy about it, despite the unprecedented public scrutiny."
The press room erupts into a frenzy of questions and camera flashes.
From the corner of my eye, I see Susanna gleefully recording everything while Viktoria tries to maintain her dignified composure in spite of her growing smile.
"That wasn't in the press briefing," I murmur to Callum as we field questions about the integration timeline.
"Improvisation," he replies under his breath."I'm learning from you."
"I've created a monster."
"A more authentic monster.”He squeezes my hand before returning to corporate mode to answer a question about cybersecurity protocols.
As the press conference continues, I marvel at the strange journey that brought us here—from viral humiliation to corporate redemption, from fabricated credentials to authentic relationship.
Three weeks ago, I was convinced my career was over.
Now I'm heading an initiative that might change the tech industry's approach to talent.
The official portion concludes, and as we prepare to leave the podium, Fiona appears at my side.
"Well done, dear," she says, patting my arm."Your Instagram followers have increased by twenty-three thousand in the last hour.My livestream with your mother broke all our previous records."
"That's...great?"
"Indeed.We're thinking of launching a joint podcast.'Grandmothers Know Best: Scottish-Armenian Edition.'"
Callum groans beside me."Please tell me you're joking."
"Certainly not.We've already recorded three episodes.The one about your childhood fear of bagpipes is particularly charming."
"I was never afraid of bagpipes," he protests.
"The home video suggests otherwise, dear."She pats his cheek consolingly."Don't worry, we've only shared it with our premium subscribers."
As Fiona glides away to charm reporters, Callum looks at me, green eyes unblinking."What have we unleashed?"
"The most formidable social media force since the Kardashians," I reply solemnly."Our mothers are influencers now.We'll never recover."
He laughs, the sound still rare enough to make my heart skip.
"Worth it," he decides, brushing a strand of hair from my face with casual intimacy."Even the unauthorized musical seems a small price to pay."
"Speaking of which," I say as we exit the press room, "I got us tickets to the preview.Front row seats."
His eyes widen in alarm."You didn't."
