“Stone,” Isabella said.
“How serendipitous,” Ms. Birdie said enigmatically, but didn’t expand.
“Ms. Peterson has a point,” Sophie said, darting a glance at Frankie. Her instincts told her she needed to get on the woman’s good side for her project to work. “If he’s injured, will he be all that helpful?”
“His injury is hardly an injury at all,” Isabella said. “Or at least that’s how I heard it described. For a few weeks, he’s supposed to wear a thick bandage on his middle finger, which impedes the speed with which his shooting finger can react.”
“What good is a bodyguard who can’t shoot?” Frankie asked. “Why don’t I—”
“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll have a need to shoot anyone while protecting Sophie,” Isabella said. “I envision him hanging around more as a scare tactic than anything else.”
“If he’s there to scare people,” Sophie said louder than she intended, “I won’t get any men to grant me an interview, let alone be willing to consent to be declared a book boyfriend twin.” A scary bodyguard was the last thing she wanted to have to deal with right now. “I really think we should pick someone less frightening. In fact, I have a colleague—”
“Nonsense,” Ms. Birdie said. “Stone’s a professional. I use him and his brothers for security at my social events. He’s perfectly capable of blending into the background.”
Sophie hated the idea. A guy like that would not understand the assignment. He’d be all condescending and irritated at her for…everything, probably even the lack of world peace. Much like her last boyfriend, who’d started out quirky and ended up deceptive.
“If we’re going to go down this rabbit hole, and I’m not convinced we should,” Frankie said, “the solution to Sophie’s worry is an easy fix. She and her bodyguard can adopt a fake relationship as a cover. That way, he won’t scare anyone off. They do things like this all the time in romantic comedies.”
“You read rom-coms?” Isabella asked, looking truly startled.
“Bite me,” Frankie snapped.
“What a lovely idea,” Ms. Birdie said, succinctly ending the exchange between the two editors. “Don’t you agree, Isabella?”
Sophie was too busy watching to see how Isabella would handle being told to bite the other editor to give much thought to the suggestion that she was to be a part of an honest-to-goodness fake dating trope.
“I do agree,” Isabella cast a wistful look toward Frankie. “Remember the time we watchedPretty Womaninstead of studying for our college exams our senior year?”
Sophie’s gaze whipped to Frankie. Her mouth had pinched, and her nostrils were flared.
Now sounding vulnerable, Isabella continued, “It was right after we found out—”
“No one is interested in our time as college roommates,” Frankie shot back.
Sophie jerked her attention back to Isabella. She looked slightly sad.
The silence that ensued was finally broken by Ms. Birdie. “Frankie, once again you’ve come up with a brilliant idea.”
Frankie nodded.
The older woman gave Sophie an expectant smile. “Are you on board?”
Sophie had to flip back through the conversation to recall what they’d even been talking about.Oh yeah. That.“For a fake boyfriend?”
“Please say yes. It will be a rom-com come to life,” Isabella purred. “Not that the two of you will fall in love, just embrace the trope.”
“At the risk of you shutting down the whole pitch,” Sophie said, hesitantly, “I have to say I’m not sure my budget will cover the cost of hiring a bodyguard.” She absolutely knew it wouldn’t but if desperate times called for desperate measures, she’d sell her toenail clippings to freaks on the internet.
“Darling,Naked Runwaywill cover all your costs. Just keep your receipts,” Ms. Birdie said.
“Even cardboard cutouts of book boyfriends?” Sophie asked. “And matching themed T-shirts. And—”
“Anything that helps you with your project is approved,” Ms. Birdie replied, her eyes twinkling. “Tell me more about these shirts.”
“It’s one of my side hustles to pay the bills. I design and sell quirky, book-related merchandise on Etsy. It’s my way of putting to use my associate degree in merchandising,” Sophie said. Someday, she’d go back and get her bachelor’s degree, but that would have to wait until Poppie was more stable. “My T-shirts are my bestsellers.”
“How absolutely lovely,” Ms. Birdie said. “I do love a person with initiative.”
