Carson’s phone freezes halfway to his ear.
“Strategic how?” Anthony queries.
“I informed Red Dawson I was engaged to secure a commercial agreement. The client wanted to meet my fiancée, so Freya agreed to help me maintain the fiction.” I straighten a stack of papers on my desk. “But the situation has escalated, and now we need to actually go through with a ceremony.”
The silence in my office is deafening. Anthony appears like he’s trying very hard not to have an opinion about what I’ve just revealed. Carson seems like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“You’re staging a fake marriage,” Carson articulates slowly, “for a commercial agreement.”
“Correct.”
“And you need us to help you pull it off.”
“Correct.”
Anthony shifts in his chair. “Ben, are you certain about this? If word gets out that you fabricated a marriage for commercial purposes?—”
“It won’t get out.” I lean forward. “That’s why you both signed NDAs. Also, this isn’t a threat or anything, but your careers are also on the line now. If it were to get out, it would make us all appear incompetent.”
“Who else knows?” Carson probes.
“Only Freya.” But as I mention it, I realize I don’t know if that’s accurate or not.
Maybe Freya has confided in someone?
“But the legal implications—” Anthony begins.
“Will be minimal,” I cut him off. “We’ll get divorced quietly after a year or so. It’s not illegal to marry someone for commercial reasons, and it’s not illegal to get divorced.”
“What about Freya?” Anthony questions. “What does she get out of this arrangement?”
The question catches me off guard. What does Freya get out of this? A trip to Japan and the satisfaction of helping a friend, apparently. When he puts it like that, it sounds like I’m taking advantage of her.
“She’s being compensated,” I reply, which is technically true but feels inadequate.
Carson, who’s been quiet during this exchange, suddenly sits forward with the kind of enthusiasm that usually makes me nervous.
“This is brilliant,” he proclaims.
Both Anthony and I stare at him.
“Consider it,” Carson continues, warming to his theme. “Your image has always been cold, ruthless businessman. Emotionally unavailable. The press loves to paint you as this calculating machine who cares more about profit margins than people.”
“Because that’s what I am,” I point out.
“But not anymore.” Carson’s eyes light up. “A marriage, even a fake one, completely transforms your public persona. Suddenly you’re an individual who’s capable of love, commitment, stability. You’re family oriented. Trustworthy.” His eyes are practically glowing. “This could be the best thing that’s ever happened to your public image.”
“Carson,” Anthony interjects quietly, “it’s fake.”
“So what? The public doesn’t know that. As far as they’re concerned, Ben Lawlor is finally off the market, settled down with his childhood sweetheart.” Carson gestures enthusiastically. “The press will eat it up.”
A cold dread starts settling in my stomach. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“I’m suggesting we make this public. Big public.” Carson leans forward. “We make your engagement and ceremony the feel-good story of the year.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Ben, hear me out.”
