I hate how that nickname makes my skin crawl—not because it’s cruel, but because Kyle’s the only one I want to hear it from. I glance toward Kyle, looking for some kind of explanation. His jaw is clenched so hard I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack. His eyes track every breath I take.
“Excuse me?”
Cole continues, unfazed. “We make you two official. A quiet relationship that started before he signed here. No scandal or rule breaking. Just two people who found their way to each other.”
“You can’t be serious.” My voice cracks on the single syllable.
Cole shrugs like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world. “Fake dating. It’s the easiest fix. PR gold.”
I open my mouth, then close it again. I can’t tell if I want to laugh or cry. I blink, staring at him, waiting for the punchline. But no one’s laughing. Even Cooper looks like he’s considering it.
“I already have a statement prepared,” I manage, holding up the paper in my hand like a shield. “I’ll take responsibility for the?—”
Kyle stands so fast his chair scrapes the floor. “You’re not taking the fall for this.”
The sound of his voice wrecks me, cutting through the noise like earlier when he told off that reporter. I should tell him to sit down. To stop making thisharder. But all I can think about is how much I want to believe he means it.
“This isn’t your fault,” he says, eyes locked on mine.
“Yes, it is,” I whisper.
“No, it’s mine.”
“Both of you, stop.” Cooper’s tone snaps like a whip. “This isn’t about guilt. It’s about control. We can’t have another incident like today.”
“You two will play a happy couple, smile for the cameras, and by the time anyone realizes it’s PR, no one cares.” Cole’s tone softens, almost persuasive. “The narrative flips overnight. You become the girl who grounded the youngest Hendrix. He becomes the rookie with a heart of gold. It’s tidy.”
“That’s not a narrative,” I manage. “That’s a lie.”
“Welcome to PR, sweetheart.” Cole shrugs.
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek and focus on the smallest details—the grain of the wood on Cooper’s desk, the faint hum of the HVAC, the burn in my throat where the words keep catching. If I focus on those things, I won’t start shaking.
“You’ll manage the rollout through PR. Draft the statement, coordinate the social media angles. The story becomes love, not scandal,” Cooper responds, watching me closely.
If I say no, I’m done. No recommendation. No career. All the hours, the late nights, the sacrifices disappear because I let myself fall for someone I was never supposed to want.
I don’t need to turn to know Kyle is watching me. Ican feel it like heat on the back of my neck. I can feel his desperation, his anger, his guilt. This isn’t his fault, but it’s not mine alone either.
Cooper leans forward. “Alycia, this only works if you’re on board.”
“You want me to sell it?”
“You’re the best PR mind in this organization,” he says simply. “You know how to tell a story people believe.”
“Yeah. I do.” A hollow laugh slips out before I can stop it.
Cole’s voice softens just enough to sting. “You’re going to need to rewrite that statement, sweetheart. Make it sound romantic. Whatever sells. You’ll be the hero who brought our Hendrix boy home.”
Something inside me breaks quietly because I know I can do it. I can make the story believable. I can make people root for us, but every word I write will feel like a betrayal of the one real thing that’s ever happened to me.
I glance at Kyle, and he looks gutted. His face displays the same helpless, angry ache that I’ve been carrying since last night. It’s the look of someone who wants to fight but doesn’t know what to hit. I take a breath that tastes like defeat and fold the resignation letter in half, tucking it back into my folder.
“If this is what it takes to keep my job, I’ll do it.”
Kyle’s head jerks toward me, disbelief etched in every line of his face. “Alycia, you don’t have to?—”
“Yes, I do.”
