“You were meeting with that group to discuss their plans for you?”
She nodded. “And so they could meet me.”
“How did it go?”
She paused for a moment before she said, “Good.”
“Okay.”
“Here’s the thing…as you know, I’ve had some issues with the blogs and such.”
Dallas had briefly mentioned the issues she’d been having since a pic of her with Kimball Payne had surfaced online. “Right. You shared that you received a wedding invitation.”
Her soft giggle felt forced, like she was trying to find the humor in everything going on. “Exactly. I’m apparently marrying my ho-ish ways.”
I hated the connotation. I’d had to fight my way through middle and high school because guys—and sometimes girls—had liked to call my mother a ho. I didn’t think it was funny at all. “That was bullshit.”
“It’s stupid,” she agreed.
“Dallas, what—”
“There was another article,” she interrupted, pulling her phone out of her purse. She stepped forward, holding it up for me to see.
I took it from her and scanned the headline, pausing at the picture for a moment before reading the article. When I finished, I met her gaze. “This is us.” Everything started to click, to fall into place. “That’s how your mentor knew who I was.”
“Exactly.”
“They think we’re together?”
“Or they think you’re just another notch on my proverbial belt.”
My mind raced with potential drawbacks to this type of publicity. And knowing that she wanted a political future… “How does this affect you?”
She shrugged. “Maya thinks it might help if I had a ‘beard’ of sorts. Someone to go to events with, to…” She threw her hands up in the air. “Hell, I don’t know. Pretend. Just until the media finds someone else to focus on.”
Considering everything that had happened in my world over the past two weeks, the thought of distracting myself with Dallas was very appealing. And since I didn’t beat around the bush, I asked, “What if I help you?”
She met my gaze full on. “It’s funny you said that. Maya thinks it’s a good idea if you did.”
So that’s why Maya was looking at me like she knew something I didn’t know. And why Dallaswasn’tlooking at me. “And what do you think?” I handed her the phone. “Is that what you want?”
Dallas searched my face. “I don’t want to lie. That’s not who I am.”
“How about we reframe it then?” I suggested. “We’re friends. My friend needs an assist. And I’m happy to help.”
“I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You didn’t.”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “Preston, this is crazy. I’m not even sure it’s worth it.”
I brushed a strand of hair out of her face, enjoying that her eyes fluttered closed. “Do you want this?”
“I do,” she admitted. “But not at the expense of my integrity.”
“So we just don’t say what we are. That way, you’re not lying. We let people assume that we’re together. And you know what they say about assumptions, right?”
She smirked. “Right.”
