“Come on, Em,” he scoffed. “This place has no walls.”
I frowned. “The bedroom has walls. So does the bathroom.”
“But my place has a separate office for my work from home days. Where am I supposed to go when you have models here for shoots? I can’t just lock myself in your bedroom all day, the room’s the size of a closet.Myapartment has lots of actual rooms. Big ones. With wallsanddoors. Doors that can be closed. Besides, your place gets downright frigid in the winter.”
“That’s what the space heater is for,” I pointed out. “This is nonnegotiable.”
Ford let out a sigh, perplexed enough that he’d stopped petting my dog. “We can’t have separate apartments. We need people to believe this marriage is real.”
“I know,” I said.
“And the fact is, my apartment works better,” he said. “It’s nicer, a hell of a lot newer, it has more square footage, and last but not least, I have multiple bedrooms.”
I frowned. We’d have to get to that part of the contract eventually.
“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t want to lose my place,” I said. “This whole thing is temporary, so I can’t just dismantle my entire life and then try to rebuild it when we’re done.”
Ford let out a long breath. “That’s fair. So what are you suggesting? You want to sublet it to a friend? Airbnb the place?”
Shaking my head, I said, “None of the above. Why don’t I just keep paying rent here while I’m staying with you and we can call it my official studio? You have your office at home, I have mine here. Nobody’s going to question it.”
“Fine,” he said. “I have no problem with that.”
I nodded, and made a note on my list.Live at Ford’s, MZ keeps her place for work.
“And Munchkin comes with me,” I said. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Ford said with a grin.
I smiled down at my dog, who was now snoring away in Ford’s lap.
“He’s not a shedder, is he?” Ford asked, but I could tell that he was joking.
“Next item,” I said. “Who knows the truth about our marriage being a contract?”
“No one,” Ford said. “We can’t risk it getting out that this is fake.”
Crossing my arms, I argued, “I mean, I at least need to tell my brothers.”
Ford shook his head. “No way.”
“Seriously? You know I hate lying,” I said. “Especially between family members. My brothers and I have already been through so much with our dad, and I’m sick of it. I don’t want to perpetuate a legacy of, like, secrets and obfuscation and bullshit. Don’t you get that?”
I was getting very worked up, and Ford held up his hands. “Look, Em, I do get it. But the less people who know, the better. I don’t trust anyone to keep their mouths shut—”
“How do you not trust Stefan and Luka?” I countered. “They’ve both done the whole fake marriage thing before—if anything, they know how important it is to keep a secret like this. They’d be super supportive and understanding.”
Ford gave me a look. “There is no version of reality where I see your brothers being supportive of me fake-marrying their little sister,” he said.
I supposed he did have a point. Stefan and Luka were extremely protective of me.
“They’d be able to give us advice,” I tried again.
“Oh, I bet they would. That’s the whole problem. Because of your brothers’ experiences, they’re going to think this whole thing will eventually become real, the way it did for them,” he said. “So why not let them think that’s the case all along? Less stories to keep straight.”
Dammit. “You have a point,” I conceded.
“Go on,” Ford said, gesturing toward my pad. “Write it down.”
