It sounded supportive. Caring, even.
So why did my gut say otherwise?
Dex caught my eye from across the room and tilted his head toward the hallway. The universal signal forwe need to talk.
“Excuse me,” I said to Denise.
I followed Dex down the hall to the empty library, and he closed the door behind us.
Dex didn’t bother with small talk.
“You’ve to tell Rose.”
I stared at him. “No.”
“It’s not a request.”
“Then it’s a problem,” I said flatly. “Because I’m not doing it.”
Dex stepped closer. “Sponsors want a teaser. We need Rose’s permission to film.”
“No. We’re keeping a low profile.”
“And you think Jamie can do that?” Dex’s voice sharpened. “Jamie is all about engagement. Numbers. Views and clicks. As she should be.”
“Then I’ll shut it down.”
“You can’t shut down fifty million people who think they own a piece of you.” He exhaled hard. “And you can’t shut down what happens when Rose finds out you’ve been lying to her face.”
“I’m not fucking lying. I’m just?—”
“Not telling her who you are?” Dex cut in. “That’s lying, mate. Dressed up pretty, but still lying.”
My jaw clenched.
Dex studied me for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.
“Something happened in the barn.”
I didn’t answer.
“I can see it on your face,” he said. “You look like someone kicked you in the teeth.”
I thought about Rose, soaked and shivering, telling me about parents she never got to know. About building something fromnothing while half the town wrote her off. About earning respect she should’ve had from the start.
“She trusted me,” I said finally. “Told me things she didn’t have to tell me. Real things. And I stood there the whole time with a fake name, letting her think I was just some bloke.”
Dex was quiet for a moment. “That’s why you need to tell her. You like her.”
It wasn’t a question.
“It doesn’t matter if I like her.”
“It matters if you’re going to keep lying to her.” Dex’s voice hardened. “Because right now, every hour you don’t tell her is another hour she’s going to feel stupid when she finds out. And she will find out, Graham. That’s not a maybe. That’s a when.”
I stared at the rain still streaking down the glass.
“She doesn’t want cameras and comments and people picking apart her life,” I said quietly. “She just wants to be left alone.”
