I expect this to be about safety. Scheduling. The attempted breach at the gates. Something concrete.
Instead Marissa’s smile widens like she’s about to announce a surprise.
“We need to talk about the optics of you two.”
The word optics turns the air to ice.
My stomach drops so quickly I feel it in my throat.
I glance at Cam without meaning to. He doesn’t react. Not visibly. But I can see it in the set of his shoulders. The focus. The way he goes still the way athletes do before contact.
He’s listening.
Marissa clicks her mouse. I hear it through the speakers like a gun cocking.
“First, I just want to say—amazing work,” she chirps. “The public is eating it up.”
Eating it up.
Like we’re a snack.
George laughs softly. “It’s true. The engagement metrics—”
Evelyn lifts a hand gently, as if to keep the tone professional. “Let’s review the status and next steps.”
Status.
Next steps.
My fingers curl open and closed in my lap. I press my thumb into my palm hard enough to leave a mark.
Across from me, Cam looks calm. Controlled.
I try to match him.
But my heartbeat is suddenly loud enough that I’m afraid the microphone will pick it up.
Because if they’re talking about optics, they’re talking about the kiss.
And if they’re talking about the kiss like it’s a strategy…
Then what was it?
Marissa doesn’t wait for permission.
A slide fills the screen. Charts. Arrows. Numbers climbing like they’re proud of themselves.
“Engagement is up six hundred percent,” she says brightly. “Positive sentiment up forty. Cam, coverage of your lawsuit has almost completely flipped.”
My chest tightens.
George nods enthusiastically. “It’s remarkable, actually.”
Marissa beams. “Lila, your fanbase is rallying hard around the relationship. Protective. Loyal. They love the narrative.”
Narrative.
I swallow.
