The price tag on the jewelry I’m wearing is outrageous. Adding a bracelet would’ve been bordering on insanity.
“Hollywood celebrities get the privilege of borrowing jewelry from high-end jewelers,” Kaz says. “I don’t.”
Crap. He answered the question.
“I’m a retired hockey player who likes to pretend he knows what he’s doing as a craft beer brewery and restaurant owner. I don’t have that kind of pull or influence.”
A few reporters chuckle at that.
“So, you bought your lovely date Bvlgari?” the female gray pants suit reporter says. “That’s quite the statement.”
Dammit, she’s laying down a trap.
I bet her next question will be something along the lines of‘Does your ex-wife know you’re dating?’ or ‘Did you buy your ex-wife Bvlgari?’ or ‘Shouldn’t you wait more than a minute before dropping that kind of cash on a woman who was born on the wrong side of the track?’
Kaz pulls my body closer into his, so we’re now fused together.
Every inch of me is vibrating, but I’m willing to take one for the team as long as he doesn’t give that reporter a response.
I turn up the wattage to my smile.
“On and off the ice, everything I do is with purpose.”
My body stiffens at Kaz’s response.
He had to take the bait.
“To answer your question, damn right I’m making a statement. My girl deserves Bvlgari.”
If I wasn’t this stunned, this would be a mic drop moment, but…my girl?What the hell?
The plan was for us to be seen together, not take over the red carpet walk with that kind of front-page making statement.
I glance up at my fake boyfriend with the intention of batting my eyelashes at him until he’s able to read the Morse code,‘Stop talking to the press.’
When I meet his mischievous blue eyes, I stop breathing.
He traces the necklace with a finger.
Although he doesn’t touch my skin, it doesn’t prevent my body from shivering.
Without looking around, I know every pair of eyes on the red carpet is on us.
I’ve never captured a man’s attention like I am right now.
It’s all fake.
None of this is real.
It’s for the camera, all part of a ruse.
Smoke and mirrors.
Keep it together, girl.
A tornado ripping through New York wouldn’t be enough for me to tear my gaze away from the man staring down at me as if I was the most precious thing on the planet.
This guy knows how to play the part of fake boyfriend. Kaz should’ve warned me he intended on putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.
