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I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ring box. “If you were mine, I would want everyone to know.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I kissed him quickly to shut him up. “No arguing. Every actor wears a costume, and this is yours.”
He huffed but kept quiet as I took his hand and slipped on the ring. “Will you do me the honor of fake-marrying me?”
Arlo held a hand up over his open mouth, giving an overdone gasp. “Oh, Max! Of course I will! I lo—uh, like you very much.” He snickered before holding out his hand to examine the gem-encrusted band. “Although, honestly, I would’ve been fine with something a lot cheaper. Please tell me these gems aren’t real?”
Instead of answering, I entwined our fingers and urged him down the sidewalk. “Come on, showtime, remember?” Because if we wanted our relationship to be believable, that meant being seen together. And once the Chatter article came out, word would spread. Max Shepherd was getting married.
Even before we passed through the gates into the park, I could feel people looking our way. “Oh boy, here we go. We’ve been spotted. Are you ready for this?”
“Not even a little,” he muttered, blowing out a long breath.
“Excuse me, are you Max Shepherd?” a reedy voice said, and I turned to smile down at the young girl wearing a pink dress, her curly hair in pigtails.
“I sure am,” I said. I knew how this would go, because most days were much the same.
Sure enough, her smile was blinding. “You’re my most favorite actor ever! Can I have your autograph?” she asked sweetly, handing me a folded piece of paper that turned out to be a receipt she’d probably pulled out of her mom’s purse.
“Absolutely!” I kept a pen in my pocket for just this reason. While I signed it, she turned her eyes to Arlo.
Unlike the reactions I knew we would get from adults, she didn’t hesitate to ask, “Are you Max’s boyfriend?”
He seemed almost shocked to be in the spotlight, and he froze. I quickly filled in the void by saying, “Not just my boyfriend. He’s going to be my husband.” The word hit me like a punch to the chest, and I had to fight to catch my breath. Husband. I mean, I’d always imagined I would get married one day, but it was hypothetical. I hadn’t given much thought to the man I would spend forever with, but I certainly never imagined something like this. My eyes flicked up to Arlo’s, and we stared at one another for a long moment. It felt like we were both holding our breath, maybe waiting for someone to call us out on our lie.
After posing for a quick picture, the little girl ran back to her mother, who waved in thanks.
“Wow, that was… surreal,” Arlo said, our hands finding each other, fingers entwining, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Well, get used to it, because it’s about to happen again.”
And it did. Over and over as we walked through the park hand in hand, cutting up to Dunhill Drive on the other side. Everyone cast curious glances at Arlo, but most people kept their questions to themselves. Either way, the appearance of a man on my arm would lend credence to the Chatter article that would be printed in a few days.
We paused at the far end of the park. I glanced at my watch to see that we were scheduled to meet Carson in twenty minutes. We had time to pose for the people who had their phones angled this way. “Hang on a minute,” I said, tugging on Arlo’s hand. When he stopped, I drew him into my arms, noticing all too well how perfectly he fit against me.
I tried to ignore the eyes on us, pretended that we were alone for a moment. “Why are you doing this?” I asked softly. “You’re not under any obligation to help me out of my jam.”
“Duh, money.” He rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but his fingers tightened on my shirt, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it. “And, if I’m being honest, there are worse things I could be doing for a paycheck,” he said. Like his job at The Bar Cherry.
I’d convinced Arlo’s boss to let him go on leave from his job while he was working for me. We couldn’t afford to have someone see him there and make the connection back to me, but I hadn’t given much thought about what would happen after… when we eventually staged a breakup and went our separate ways.
I really, really didn’t want to ask, not when I had my arms around him and could too easily imagine him here forever, but the words seemed to sneak past my lips anyway. “How long are we going to do this?”
His body went rigid, and I could tell he was trying to school his expression. “Oh… um, I don’t know. What’s the average length of relationship in Hollywood?”
Laughing, I told him, “Some marriages could be counted in days, or even hours.”
A little crease appeared between his eyebrows, and his lips turned down at the corners. “Hours? D-do you want to break up straight after the article comes out?”
“No! That’s not what I meant at all,” I rushed to correct him. “I just mean, there’s no set timeline, but I was thinking, if I want to appear respectable, at least… a few months? Is that too long for you? I don’t want you to have to put your life on hold for this charade.”
“Right. No, that’s… fine.” He went to walk away, but I didn’t let him get far.
“Hey, one more kiss? For the cameras.”
I swore his gaze was focused on my left ear. “Sure. Of course. Good idea.”
I didn’t like how distant he’d become, but I didn’t know how to get him back. I gently tucked his hair behind his ear and rested my forehead on his, lingering for a moment, just sharing his breath. It didn’t matter how much I told myself this was all a show for the cameras, I knew the truth—it was all for me and my greedy heart.
When our lips finally touched, his had gone stiff and clinical, like he was trying to keep it impersonal, but I wasn’t having that one bit. This was very personal. I laced my fingers into his hair and tugged hard enough that it had to sting, and when Arlo gasped, I slipped my tongue past his lips, shattering rule number one. I knew he would pull away any second, so I threw myself into that kiss for all I was worth.
