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He didn’t crack even a millimetre of a smile. He hadn’t been smiling since she’d agreed to do this. Was he having second thoughts? She knew she was.
‘This is just a front up,’ said Serge, folding his arms. He looked so intimidating for a moment even Clementine drew back a little in her chair. Mick and Alex both looked warily at one another.
‘She has her picture snapped, I do the press conference, and then we leave. No chit-chat. She doesn’t speak to the press.’
No mention of doing it this way to make any of it easier for her, Clementine thought a little hopelessly, then nipped her self-pity in the bud. She wasn’t going down that path. She had come into this eyes wide open. It was what it was: an opportunity to help him out, an opportunity to make something of what they had between them. She wasn’t giving up on them without a fight; it was just right now she felt like the only person in the ring.
‘I want to be sure Clementine knows what she’s up for,’ said Alex slowly, as if testing the waters. ‘You’ll be answering questions, Serge, but she’ll be facing the scrum outside.’
‘Nyet—no paps. We go in the back way. Only legit media.’ Serge spoke quietly but it had its effect. The other two men stayed quiet.
‘Listen, boys, I’m aware I’m going to be a handbag tomorrow,’ Clementine interrupted, straining for her voice to be unnaturally high and cheerful in the tense atmosphere. ‘I look good. I don’t say much. I’m flashbacking to my last job.’
Nobody laughed. Nobody even twitched.
‘Nah, we want you to speak,’ said Mick finally. ‘If you don’t you may as well be one of those other airhead bimbos …’ His voice fell away into a taut, uncomfortable silence.
Other airhead bimbos. Clementine didn’t know where to look.
Ever since she’d put the proposal to Serge, Clementine had been wondering if she was out of her ever loving mind. Now Mick had pointed out what she’d been too blind or dazzled by the notion of putting a public stamp on their relationship to face. She’d be hanging her dirty laundry out for everyone to see. Anyone who was interested in the Marinov Corporation would have some idea about Serge’s sexual past. She couldn’t call it romantic, and there was a huge chance she was about to be showcased as a bimbo who’d made it past round one and that was about all.
Clementine suddenly felt hideously exposed and her hands found their way into her lap, winding around one another so she had something to hold onto.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t a bimbo. She wasn’t going to be considered one. And this little exercise would ensure she could keep her head held high. She could handle tomorrow.
Be careful what you wish for, Clem, she told herself under the shower as she freshened up before dinner that evening. She was going to show her skills, but not in quite the way she’d wanted. In her haste to offer herself up she’d overlooked one fundamental flaw in her thinking: this wasn’t about how he felt about her; it was about what she could do for him.
She’d done what she’d sworn she would never do again. In her desperation for his love, to come first with Serge, she’d forgotten her own life lesson from her parents. People wanted you around as long as you were entertaining, useful or fulfilled a function. And right now she was doing all three. She’d rushed headlong into it in her desperation to keep what she’d had a glimpse of the other night in his arms.
God help her, she wanted this to be different from what both of them had known in the past. He with his endless string of women and she with her two unsatisfactory, half-hearted relationships.
Well, she’d ensured she was in it for the long haul now—or at least until the Kolcek furore settled down and the spotlight turned to the next media frenzy. But none of this was really what she wanted. ‘Come live with me and be my significant other in order to counteract media speculation over my until now playboy lifestyle’ left something of a sour taste in her mouth.
She wanted a real commitment from Serge. It was time to acknowledge that, if only to herself. Pretending to be his significant other wasn’t going to achieve that.
For the first time since she’d arrived on US soil with him she was beginning to wonder if any of this was worth it. It was starting to feel as if she was running after him, and it wasn’t a good feeling.
She was just getting out of the shower when she heard her phone buzzing. Heavy-hearted, wrapping herself in a towelling robe, she answered it and gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘Luke!’
Serge heard her voice and continued dressing in the other room, one ear on her improved tone. She hadn’t sounded so upbeat all day and it bothered him. Events had coalesced all at once: the press conference, Mick’s advice—which he usually heeded to his benefit—and Clementine offering herself up, the answer to Mick’s prayers. She was so damn willing to help out.
