“If you’re going to make me repeat myself,” his public rep said, “then I’ll say it again.”
A playback of the exhaustive conversation shot to Duke’s mind. “No, don’t. I remember.” He’d heard enough about how the station would likely take ten or fifteen minutes tops, stretch it into an hour-long segment, and play misleading, out-of-context tidbits to lure viewers into watching. In the end, the program could paint him with whatever persona they’d like to portray.
Duke’s phone buzzed from his other pocket. He was quick to retrieve it and give the screen a glance; he had some important deals to close that afternoon. But the message wasn’t from the office.
Grandma Lo:Guess who Stanford’s Alumni Gala is featuring for their scholarship fundraiser this year?
Duke:Who?
Grandma Lo:Your father.
A smile crossed his lips. A spot of warmth stirred in his chest.Dad.If only he and Grandpa were there to enjoy the tribute. It’d been seven years since the private plane crash that took them both. An ache settled into his chest as he pictured the two men, accompanied by his brother, Winston, watching from their place in the heavens.
Duke tapped out a text in return:That’s awesome!
Grandma Lo:And they’d like you and Sylvia Sampson to announce the award together on a live feed. She’s back in town, you know. And her engagement just fell through.
Oh, great. Duke knew where Grandma was taking this and he wasn’t interested.
Another text popped in.It’d be great if the two of you went together. She mentioned that you took her to the Starry Night Prom at Stanford ten years ago.
No, it wouldn’t be great. That prom marked one of the dumbest decisions Duke had ever made, losing him a woman he still hadn’t gotten over.
Duke shook his head. For all he knew, his grandma had been the one to arrange for him and Sylvia to introduce as a duo. The Sampsons had a big name, after all. She was probably trying to help him repair the damage done to the Benton family’s image. An image he’d tarnished with the whole marriage swap thing.
Duke:I’ll keep her in mind.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket after hitting send. His refusal to commit wouldn’t surprise her. Lorraine knew how picky he was, which probably added to her concern that Duke would turn into a chronic bachelor, especially now that the rest of his siblings were married.
Funny that James, the youngest of the pack since Winston died, had set things into motion, like the first domino to drop.
He fell for and married his private chef, Camila.
Months later Betzy followed, sayingI doto her childhood friend, Sawyer.
Then came Duke’s twin, Zander, at the start of the year. Of course,thatone was different. Thatwedding marked the moment Duke dodged his duty of stepping up to the altar to marry a perfect stranger on live TV. Which began his plummet in the popularity rankings.
He’d gone from being the most adored Benton to the least. Even his very own fans turned against him.
The thought led him back to the matter at hand, causing him to huff out an irritated breath. “I make one tiny mistake and everyone’s mad at me.”
Perry chuckled under his breath. “One tiny mistake?” he squeaked. “Which part was the mistake? The part where you signed up forMarried at First Meet, knowing you weren’t going to follow through with it if you got picked?
“Or was it the moment you decided—afterthe social experiment selected you out of thirty-plus thousand candidates—to not even show up to the wedding?
“Wait, I know the mistake you’re talking about,” his public relations rep continued. “It must be the moment you allowed your identical twin to step into your place, marry a woman handpicked for you, and fall in love with her while all of America watched. That’s theone tinymistake you’re talking about, right?”
Duke rubbed his thumb over the divot in his pocket stone, back and forth. “You know what? You’re fired.”
Perry chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you always say. But trust me—you should be thanking me.Everyonewants to get interviewed by Veritå.”
“Do you think that’s her real name or just some pen name?” Duke wandered to the other side of the greenroom to a small bar. A crystal jar with a spout held ice water with lemon slices. A row of upside down glasses stood nearby. He poured himself some water as Perry replied.
“Veritå istruthin Italian. The woman says she’s a truth seeker—she prides herself on it.”
Duke furrowed his brow as he brought the glass to his lips. He paused before taking a sip. “The truth, huh?” A question came to mind, but rather than speak it aloud, Duke swallowed it down instead.
What if the truth about Duke Benton wasn’t all that interesting? The thought pricked at a deep fear of his. One he worked to keep far from reach. The same fear that threatened to roar its ugly head the more his public image tanked.
