“Axel is right. It was absolutely nothing. Just a peck in a crowded room,” I lie easily. “I just like being a drama queen Dad, you know that.”
My father lets out a long, slow breath, as he thinks about that and decides whether or not to believe me. I meet his eye, holding his gaze with as much innocence as I can muster. Finally, he nods. "That's the kind of behavior that has us meeting today, Gabriel. Perhaps we need to start curbing it."
My dad. Tactful to a fault. I nod and drop down into a chair next to Damien. Axel slowly sinks into the chair next to Henri. He refuses to look at me and I guess I don’t blame him. Dad walks back to his spot at the head of the table. He settles into his chair and places his elbows on the table, forearms flat against the wood, and fingers entwined. It's his 'down to business' pose, I always kid. It means he's been thinking about something, and he's come to a decision.
"So, if you two are already acquainted then this will be easier than I thought," he says. And then he smiles. Something about it makes my blood chill, which never happens. I trust my dad's judgment on basically everything. But my body is reacting in a very bad way right now.
“Feels like a sign that this is not just the easiest solution but the right one,” Damien says and looks at Axel for confirmation.
Axel kind of shrugs and nods at the same time.
“What plan is this?” I ask, and now the hair on the back of my neck is standing at attention too.
“We’re settling you down,” my father announces. He is fluently bilingual, but sometimes he gets flustered and doesn’t exactly say what he means in English.
“Dit-moi en Francais,” I command, figuring he might make more sense in our mother tongue.
“Tu vas sortir avec Axel.”I stare at him, cluelessly.“Il sera ton petit copain. Jusqu'à ce que ça se calme.”
I keep staring at my dad as the words swirl around in my brain, not making any sense. “You hired me a boyfriend?”
“I hired you a public relations consultant who is going to play the role of your boyfriend,” he clarifies.
I turn my head slowly until my blue eyes meet Axel’s brown ones. He is no longer volcanic tomato. Now he’s more of a Casper white. Petrified porcelain. “You’ve whored yourself out for this?”
“I took the assignment, yeah,” Axel replies. “It’s a normal tactic. Celebrities do it all the time, and I… fit the bill for this. For you.”
“Because you’re hot and a good kisser?”
And now he’s volcanic tomato again.
“I’m sure the kissing thing will help,” my dad interjects.
Oh my fucking God. “This is insane. No. This is not going to happen.”
"Listen, kid," Damien says because he always calls me kid even though he's maybe fifty, not some old grandpa. He's been on my father's legal team since he was thirty and I hadn't grown hair on my balls yet so whatever. "I know you're a free sexual spirit. I admire it, actually. But let’s be honest, most of this bullshit stems from that. The woman accused you of fathering that kid because youdidfuck her. And the assistant with the chip on her shoulder, she accused you because she thought it was believable.”
“Also she knows my father will fix my problems. Everyone knows that,” I snap and push back my chair.
“Gabriel, non. S'il te plait.” His words are polite, but his tone has an edge.
I don’t stand, but I don’t pull my chair back in either. “I don’t want a fake boyfriend. Even one who can kiss. You want me to date someone, I’ll find someone who will do it willingly.”
“And sign an NDA? And accept payment? And not make a bigger mess later because they get their feelings involved and you don’t?” Henri asks. “Hate to break it to you but this is the sensible option.”
I open my mouth but no words come out. I glance at Axel who is watching me intently, but with no expression I can decipher. I suddenly feel like a child at the adult table of a holiday party. Like I don’t belong and everyone is just kind of placating me. Even Axel.
“This is the best idea we have?” I demand.
“Yeah,” Henri admits, and he’s not even the least bit sheepish about it. “This is the optics part. Damien is working on the legal part. There’s a lot more tactical stuff with that.”
“I’ve subpoenaed the shit out of everyone on that plane, and the company that owns it, and the pilots,” he announces proudly.
"And I'll pay her if all else fails."
"And I will quit racing if you do," I remind him. We've had this conversation before. "I am not going to walk around with even the slightest doubt in people's minds that I touch people without their permission. I don’t. I didn’t. I amnotpaying her a fucking cent.”
My father rolls his eyes, sick of what he considers ‘my antics’. “Gabriel, let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it.”
