And with those three words, I know I have won. America is on my side.
CHAPTER 27
MADDIE
The VIP cocktail party glows lemon-yellow, as if someone cracked open a giant citrus fruit.
Quench logos shimmer on every wall, every ice bucket, every napkin. Even the servers wear yellow vests and glossy smiles, moving through the crowd like well-trained bees.
I adjust Snorty’s black bandana. Then I lift him for a photo a reporter insists on taking.
“Hold him up a little higher, sweetheart,” she instructs, already snapping. “Tilt him toward the light.”
Snorty does not enjoy creative direction.
He yips indignantly, twists in my arms, then throws all four legs wide like he’s performing a canine vaudeville routine.
The photographer gasps. “Oh! That’s perfect.”
Of course it is.
I re-tie his bandana to achieve that flaring effect Antoine now insists on. “You’re impossible,” I say, kissing the top of his warm furry head.
Another reporter swoops in. “Maddie! One more shot—this time with Rio. And your dog, obviously. He’s an integral part of the brand.”
My stomach knots. But refusing would only make things worse.
The reporter escorts me toward Rio. Good. At lease Rio will see I’m not approaching him of my own accord.
He turns as we arrive, smiling his effortless, practiced grin for the camera.
But when his eyes flick to mine, they’re cold. Warning me not to speak. Not to assume anything.
The photographer pushes us closer together. “Yes, perfect. Hold the dog between you—great.”
I force a smile.
Snorty wriggles but settles, warm and calm in my arms. The one creature in this room who doesn’t judge me.
“Beautiful,” the photographer says, flipping her camera to show the screen. “Look at this!”
Rio barely glances. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, already walking away to rejoin Antoine.
“Would you please email it to me?" I ask the photographer. "I didn’t get a chance to see it.”
“I’ll send it now,” she says before walking away.
A moment later, a soft ping hits my phone. I open the email instantly.
There we are.
Rio. Me. Snorty. All bathed in warm light. Looking like a happy little family.
A lie, but a beautiful one.
I turn the screen toward my dog. He snorts approvingly at the image. Then he wiggles to be put down, eager to be part of the party action.
“Fine, but don’t go far,” I warn.
