No, he decided. Better to just give her space and steer clear of her as much as possible. Luckily, he was busy enough as it was, and they only had to make a couple appearances together each week.
“You know,” he said, “you’re going to have to look happy once the photographer gets here.”
Her scowl only deepened. “I understand that, but she’s not here yet, is she?”
“My PR agent is,” he said, spotting Dove coming towards them across the side lawn. He raised a hand in greeting. Dove was one of the few people who knew all about the fake engagement and was only too happy to capitalize on it. Nate paid her well for her services, and he was doubling her usual fee for complete discretion on this matter.
“There’s the happy couple!” Dove cooed, pulling her sunglasses up and settling them in her shiny blond hair.
“So good to meet you.” Jasmine extended her hand for a shake, finally looking something other than miserable.
Dove took it with both hands. “I’ve been a fan for years. Okay.” She dropped into one of the patio chairs and flipped open a leather notebook without preamble. “We have about forty minutes before Carla arrives with the photographer, so let’s get the story airtight. I’ll be the interviewer. You two just talk to me like I’m her.” She clicked her pen. “How did you reconnect?”
Nate went first. “We’d known each other years ago. I reached out in the spring. We had dinner, and it went well, and?—”
“We bumped into each other, actually,” Jasmine cut in smoothly, not looking at him. “At a restaurant opening in West Hollywood. I almost didn’t recognize him. He’d cut his hair.”
Nate turned to look at her. He had not cut his hair.
“I love that,” Dove said, scribbling. “Very organic. No one plans a restaurant opening.”
“He’d had a terrible day,” Jasmine continued, warming to it, and Nate felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. “He doesn’t show it, but I could tell. He has this thing he does with his jaw when he’s stressed.” She tapped her own chin lightly. “I asked if he was okay, and I think it surprised him that someone noticed.”
Dove’s pen stopped moving. She looked up, delighted. “That’s the quote. That’s the pull quote for the whole piece.”
“We hadn’t agreed on that,” Nate said, voice quiet.
“It’s better than what you said.” Jasmine picked up her glass. “Yours sounded like a press release.”
She finally looked at him, and her expression was almost cheerful, which was somehow more irritating than the scowl. “Carla isn’t going to putwe had dinner and it went wellon the cover. She needs a story. She needs to feel something.”
Dove pointed at Jasmine with her pen. “She’s right.”
Nate said nothing because they were both right and he knew it, which made it worse.
They went through the rest of the story. The first date, the second, the point at which they’d both apparently known. Jasmine had an answer ready for every question. The first date had been a drive up the coast, apparently, because Nate hadwanted somewhere they wouldn’t be photographed. The second had been cooking dinner at the house because Jasmine had wanted to see if he could follow instructions. He’d made a reasonable pasta, she reported, and ruined the garlic bread, and that was when she’d known he was someone she could actually be around.
“I ruined the garlic bread,” Nate repeated flatly.
“Catastrophically.” She didn’t blink. “It was touching.”
Dove was practically vibrating. “This is gold. This is absolute gold.”
Nate looked out at the pool. He felt like he’d understood the rules, only to find someone had changed them while he wasn’t looking. He knew how to negotiate. He knew how to close. He did not know how to invent a love story on the spot, and apparently Jasmine did it the way other people breathed.
“Okay.” Dove set the notebook down and laced her fingers together. “Now the physical stuff. Carla’s going to be watching how you are with each other, even when she’s not asking questions. Little things. What do you call each other?”
Silence.
“Uh,” Nate said, by way of an answer.
“Pet names,” Dove said patiently. “Does she call you Nate, or is there something else? Do you have a name for her?”
More silence. Jasmine’s face, Nate was happy to see, turned pink.
“Right.” Dove stood up and repositioned her chair, so she was sitting directly across from them. “We’re going to practice. Sit closer together. Shoulder to shoulder.”
Jasmine shifted a few inches along the outdoor couch. Nate matched it. Their arms nearly touched.
