Page 31 of One Midnight Kiss

I sighed, giving in. “It’s been a lot. His tech is interesting, but people might not be ready for it yet.”

She shrugged. “So make them ready. People don’t know what they want until you marketers tell them. And they’ll believe anything they read on social media. You’ve got this.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve got a plan moving into action, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around Fox’s tech. It’s all wires and gigabytes.”

Christa laughed, leaning back against the couch. “Well, if anyone can handle Fox, it’s you. You’re just what he needs.”

I snorted, thinking back to the night in his car, to the way he’d insisted on helping me. It was a rare moment of vulnerability on my part, and it hadn’t sat well with me. I had avoided him at every opportunity after that, determined to keep things strictly professional. The lines between us couldn’t get blurred like they had that night.

“So, what do you think of him?” Christa’s tone was casual, but there was a gleam of curiosity in her eyes.

“He’s fine,” I said flatly.

“Fine? That’s it? You guys seemed to get along at dinner.”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you want me to say, Christa? He’s your brother-in-law. You know him better than I do.”

“True,” she mused, tapping her fingers against her mug. “Wilder says Fox can be a bit of a dog, you know? Doesn’t keep a girlfriend for long, likes to play the field.”

The oddest sensation twisted in my gut. Was it jealousy? That was absurd. I hardly knew the man. I rubbed at my temple, trying to ease the headache building there. I definitely needed sleep. “Why are we talking about his dating habits?”

“I was just wondering if you’ve gotten to know him since you guys are working together.”

“I’m not working with him,” I said. “Not really. We had one brief meeting.”

I chose not to mention the drink and the fact he rescued me.

“But he’s fun, right? Sometimes.”

I frowned at her. “What’s going on? I know you. I know when you’re angling for something. Please don’t tell me you’re trying to set me up with your brother-in-law. You just told me he’s a player. A man whore.”

Christa grinned. “Right, that’s his image. So I told him he should get himself a fiancée.”

I nearly choked. “A fiancée? Are you high? Please don’t tell me you’re looking at me to fill that role.”

“It’s a great PR move. Search that creative marketing brain of yours. You know it’s true. He’s got this reputation as a playboy, and if he wants to appeal to a wider consumer base, especially families, he needs to soften that image. Show he’s not just a bachelor billionaire but someone relatable. This tech he is launching is important. He needs people to take him seriously.”

“Relatable,” I repeated, still incredulous. “So, what? You’re suggesting a fake engagement? Do you know how many ways that could blow up in everyone’s faces?”

She shrugged. “It’s not the worst idea. I’m sure you two could keep it a secret.”

I snorted and shook my head. “That’s not the only part that could go wrong. I think I’m running a fever. That’s the only explanation for why I’m even listening to this.”

Christa’s playful smile faltered. She stared directly at me, looking directly into my eyes. “Are you really okay? I know this time of year is tough for you.”

I braced myself against the wave of memories I had been trying so hard to ignore. “I’m fine,” I said again, but my voice lacked conviction.

“It’s been almost a year since the divorce.” She frowned. “Is it something we should celebrate, like an anniversary? Or are we just trying to forget about it?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the familiar burn of old wounds. “It’s fine. I try not to think about it but I’m not in denial or anything. And I have no doubt my life is better now. It just stings when someone you trust betrays you like that. It makes you question everything.”

“Yeah, it just plain sucks. You deserve better than that, Nat. You know you do.”

I nodded, but I doubted I would ever trust someone with my heart again. No one would ever have that kind of power over me again. I was better off without him, but I still carried the remnants of our broken marriage like a weight around my neck. He had moved on. Hell, he moved on before we ever split up.

Sometimes I imagined it must be so freeing to be an asshole. Just cruising through life with no concern for other people’s feelings, doing whatever you wanted without sparing a glance in the rearview mirror at the broken people you left behind. They probably had no trouble sleeping.

I rubbed at my tired eyes and tried not to dwell on such sour thoughts. Giving up and being like them wasn’t an option.