Page 44

“I love you. No matter what. Always and forever.”

“I love you, too. Always and forever,” I say back to her, the same way we always end our calls.

I hang up, and I realize I need to start trying to get ahead of this. Now that my mom bought my story, I guess it’s time to start convincing everyone of the same.

Only…Ivy and I haven’t talked about any of it yet.

So, I start with the one person I can tell the truth to who will help me spin it however I want her to.

My publicist.

“Cash Andrew Maddox, why am I seeing headlines saying you married Ivy Bradley last night?” Ginny answers.

Interesting that she used my middle name and not Ivy’s. I wonder what Ivy’s middle name actually is. I married a girl, and I don’t even know her middle name.

“Because I married Ivy Bradley last night,” I say dryly.

She lets out a frustrated, strangled sound that’s partly a sigh and partly some feral animal noise. She’s angrier than my mom was, which is surprising. I thought my mom would be livid.

“Okay. Start at the beginning.”

“How far back?” I ask.

“The beginning,” she says flatly, and she sounds annoyed.

“I was born on September eighth in a small town just outside of the Twin Cities in Minnesota,” I deadpan.

She’s not laughing. “Cash,” she warns.

Okay, fine. “I met her a couple weeks ago at a club. Her brother ushered her out before I could win a bet against West.”

“What bet?”

“That I’d get her into my bed.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Well aware, thanks. West bet me he could get her to marry him before I could, so I looked into her background. She works at her sister’s company, Ever-Brand. I met with them about launching a tequila brand. Turns out Ivy is my brand strategist. So I told her to come out with me after our meeting on Tuesday, and she met me at Drai’s last night with a friend. We drank, we laughed, and West started pushing the idea of getting married.”

“Why?” she interrupts.

“I’m guessing to take the heat off him after the fight.”

“Mm,” she murmurs.

“And we were drunk enough that we all thought it was a good idea, but I gotta be honest, Gin, I don’t even remember going to the bureau to sign the paperwork. The whole night is a blur.”

“Did you drink a lot? Or do you think you were drugged?”

I stop short. I never thought of that. West wouldn’t do that. Would he?

“I don’t think I was drugged. I think I just had a lot of tequila.”

“Okay. So what’s the deal now? Staying married or damage control?” she asks.

“I’m not sure, but of the dozens of missed calls last night, I started with you.”

“Aw, aren’t you sweet?” she asks sarcastically. “And what do you mean you’re not sure?”