Page 36 of Pretend To Be Mine

I sat up straighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she loosened up when you weren’t there. Got comfortable. We got some great shots, actually. She’s a natural when she’s not overthinking it.”

“Then why can’t she do that when I’m there?” I heard the frustration in my voice. “If she can pose and smile and look natural with you and a bunch of models, why does she turn into a statue when I’m in the room?”

“Maybe because you’re intimidating as hell?” Sebastian suggested.

“I’m not—” I stopped. Was I? “I’ve been nothing but patient with her.”

“Patient, yeah. But also intense. Critical. You watch her like a hawk, and she can feel it.”

“I’m trying to help her.”

“You’re making her nervous,” Sebastian corrected. “Look, Elizabeth is sweet. She’s trying her best. She’s doing you a favor, being your fake fiancée, jumping into this insane situation with basically no preparation. Maybe cut her some slack?”

“I’m not—” I set down my fork, suddenly not hungry. “I don’t hate her, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Then stop acting like she’s a problem to be solved.” Sebastian’s voice was unusually firm. He joked around so much, it was easy to forget he was as smart as any of us. “She’s a person. A nervous person who’s way out of her depth and needs support, not criticism.”

“I support her.”

“Do you? Or do you just see her as another thing on your to-do list that’s not performing up to standard?”

The accusation stung because it was partially true. I had been thinking of Elizabeth as a problem. That was why I’d tried to run right out of my top floor penthouse. She was a complication in an already complicated situation. I solved problems. It’s just what I did.

“You seem awfully invested in Elizabeth’s wellbeing,” I said coolly. “If you like her so much, maybe you should date her.”

The words came out more bitter than I’d intended. And I realized I sounded like I was twelve.

“Are you jealous?” he asked. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You think I’m interested in Elizabeth? Your fake fiancée?”

I shrugged. “You’re defending her pretty vigorously.”

“Because you’re being an ass!” Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. “Adrian, I’m not interested in Elizabeth. She’s great, but she’s not my type. I’m just saying, she’s terrified of you.”

“She’s not terrified of me,” I growled.

“She literally told me she gets starstruck around you. Said she can’t think straight when you’re in the room. That’s why she freezes up—not because she’s bad at this, but because your presence overwhelms her.”

I stared at him. “She said that?”

“Yesterday. After you left. She made me promise not to tell you, but you’re being dense, so I’m telling you.” Sebastian gestured with his wine glass. “The problem isn’t Elizabeth, Adrian. The problem is you. You make her nervous just by existing. So maybe figure out how to make her more comfortable, because right now, she literally can’t function when you’re around.”

“Well, shit,” I said quietly.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agreed. “Shit.”

Mom was watching the exchange with interest, a small smile playing at her lips. “It sounds like you need to spend more time with this girl. Help her see you as Adrian, not the CEO.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Take her somewhere normal,” Briggs suggested. “Not a photoshoot or an office or anywhere associated with work. Just be two people getting to know each other.”

“We don’t have time for that.”