"END OF AN ERA FOR THE NHL GOLDEN BOY?"
Mad sits beside me, quiet. She hasn't looked at me since she got in my car last night. Hasn't said a word about Kyle's comments. And for some reason,hersilence worries me more than the money I'm about to lose.
"Two brands are threatening to pull." Anya drops into her chair, rubbing her eyes and looking as though she hasn't sleptin twenty-four hours. She probably hasn't. "We need damage control, and we need it now."
"He was baiting me," I say through gritted teeth.
"And you took the bait." Anya's eyes narrow. "What exactly did he say?"
I glance at Mad. "Nothing worth repeating."
Anya studies me, then Mad, then back to me, and I can almost hear the gears turning in her head. She snaps her fingers, and I really don't like the look on her face, especially when it starts to split into a wicked smile.
A frustrated Anya I can handle.
A mischievous one? No thanks. "What if Sebastian wasn't just randomly violent? What if he was protecting someone?"
Mad looks up sharply, probably wondering if Anya has finally lost her mind. "What?"
"The social media response is mixed. Half think you're a violent meathead?—"
"Wow. Straight to the point. Thanks, Anya."
"—but half think there's more to the story, especially since you don't have a history of that kind of violence." Anya taps her screen. "People noticed Maddison in the background of these photos. She looks horrified, a hand to her mouth."
Mad sighs. "I was."
"But what if your horror wasn't about Sebastian's actions, but about what prompted them?" Anya leans forward. The gleam inher eyes tells me she has formed a plan, and I most likely won't like it.
"What if this wasn't random aggression, but a man defending the woman he loves?"
The silence stretches between us, and she might as well have spoken a different language. I didn't understand a word. What is she trying to say?
"The woman he ... what … ?” Mad's voice comes out strangled. She looks as confused as I am.
"We need a narrative that explains his behavior and humanizes him." Anya's mind is clearly racing.
She paces the length of the room, almost jumping in excitement. "A love story. The brooding hockey player with a heart of gold and the PR specialist who's been secretly dating him for months."
"No," Mad and I say in unison, apparently arriving at the same conclusion. I've worked with Anya for so long that I know she can magically make people think something is there when it’s not.
"Not just dating or in a relationship. You're getting married." Anya props a hand on her hip, looking every bit triumphant. "A whirlwind romance exposed by this incident. Sebastian was defending his girlfriend's honor. It's romantic, not violent. No man will ever let insults fly."
Mad's cheeks turn an unhealthy shade. Her lips press tightly together and an eyebrow curls into a deepening scowl. Is the thought of marrying me really that disgusting? Because, ouch!Now my ego is thoroughly bruised. A raspy hum begins deep in her throat. "M-married to Clay?"
Wow. Double ouch.
"Temporarily," Anya clarifies. "Six months, maybe a year. Long enough to rehabilitate Sebastian's image and secure those endorsements."
"This is insane," Mad whispers. "Why would I even want to marry him?"
"Damn, Mad. I have feelings too, you know, and I'm right here."
I stare at the photos on the tablet. Me, looking like a rage monster. Mad behind me, eyes wide with fear. And all this because I couldn't walk away from Kyle fucking Ericsson.
But also…
Married to Maddison? The woman who's been haunting my dreams and the sole reason for hundreds of cold showers these past few years?
