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"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing." He replied so quickly that I knew it wasn't just bad news—it was something personal. If it were business related, he’d tell me. "Is everything okay? Is your dad fine?"
He looked at me incredulously before kissing my forehead. "Yeah, Reese, Dad's fine." He hesitated and then said, "Fuck it. I don't want to keep anything a secret from you."
My body tensed, and I suddenly didn't feel cold anymore.
He nodded to one of the tables where people stood, drinking mulled wine. One of them was empty. He pulled his phone back out, handing it to me. I stared at the screen, and for a few minutes, my brain didn't understand what I was looking at. Then I realized it was an article about him: "Fashion Mogul and Maxwell Heiress." I speedread it.
I knew how much Dom hated being in the spotlight, but this was all right—or so I thought. Right at the end, they speculated that he might have been cheating on his wife with me because we'd been an item since that charity evening, which was, after all, only a short while after he'd signed the divorce papers.
“A lot of people know about us since we’ve attended a few high-profile parties together. But I don't understand why they’re taking this angle—or how they would even know about the charity evening,” Dom said.
My stomach clenched. I had a terrible feeling.
"I think this might be Malcolm's doing," I whispered.
“Why would you say that?"
"I got a message from him a few minutes ago that didn't make any sense, so I completely ignored it. It said that maybe now I'll pay attention to him."
"Reese, it's not your fault. And the article wasn't bad." His voice was tight.
“Will this impact your business?”
“No way to tell. I don’t like people speculating that I’m a cheater. But it's not important. It's nothing I can’t deal with. Don't waste your time worrying about it, okay?"
"How can I not worry? None of this would have happened if I didn't have so much drama going on in my life.”
“Reese, we're in this together, remember? And honestly, this could be a good thing. If I can trace it back to him, then I can sue him for defamation."
"You're grasping at straws," I insisted.
I wanted to disappear. I knew he was trying to maintain a calm facade for me. He'd told me when I first met him that he valued his privacy above anything else, and that he wouldn’t date someone with a high profile again.
"I feel cold," I said.
"You want a drink?"
"Yes, please."
Nodding, he went to stand in line.
He handed me a cup of hot mulled wine not two minutes later. I took a sip, enjoying feeling warm inside. My hands were frozen from holding the phone for so long.
“What are you thinking about?” Dom asked.
“I don’t think Malcolm will stop. I thought he would have by now, but obviously I was wrong.”
“So what? We'll fight him.”
I looked up at him. "But it's not your fight. And you hate being in the press."
"It's nothing I can't deal with."
"Stop saying that. I don’t want you to put up with anything because of me."
"I don’t mind.” He spoke slowly, as if he wasn't sure I understood him. "We’re in this together," he said, kissing my temple. "We both have been through a lot. It's normal for stuff like this to pop up from time to time."
