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I ignore the derision in her voice. “There’s a bowling alley around Times Square I thought we could check out.”
“Sure,” she says, nostrils flared. “You wouldn’t want to spend too much effort on this.”
My fingers grip the steering wheel. “There’s a nice restaurant inside. The paparazzi camp there often. Except, of course, unless you want to go on a date with me where we would notbe seen by anyone. You know, just for old times’ sake.”
She flashes a look of anger at me.
Half an hour later, after braving the thick Manhattan traffic, we’re at Bowlero at last. I cruise to a stop and turn off the engine.
“Remember,” I say, feeling the urge to remind her, “we need to actmadly in love. It’s the only way.”
Gigi looks like she wants to rip my head off. But she nods, remaining silent.
I slide out of the driver’s seat and go around to the passenger seat. Pulling open the door, Gigi steps out, and almost immediately, we are caught in the glare of a cameraman’s flashing lights.
“Damn it,” she mutters.
For the first time, there is a look of worry on her face. The intense irritation I feel for her dissipates, and we lock eyes.
“This is what we want, remember?” I tell her under my breath. “To make them believe we’re a couple.”
“Yeah,” Gigi says, glancing around for the cameraman. “But I’ve been a journalist for years, and I know how these things go. PR relationships rarely work.”
I lean forward, cupping her elbow with my palm. Gigi lets out a breath, and I pull her closer, inhaling a whiff of her hair.
She smells good.
“We’re going to do it better,” I tell her, my eyes not leaving her face.
Her eyes flash with anger once more, and I watch as she looks around for the cameraman before hissing at me. “Well,” she says, “I’m aware you’re great at pretending, but I don’t…”
“Know how to?” I ask. “Then howon earth were you able to convince me you were another pretty girl flirting with me back at Ian’s wedding?”
Her cheeks flush a guilty pink. “That was different. It was—”
“Well, make this different,” I cut in again. “Because as much as you hate my guts right now, you haveto admit that there’s no getting through this without me.”
“I wouldn’t have had to get throughanything if you hadn’t tried to manipulate me and con me into falling for you.”
“Ditto,” I reply, taking a step back. “You wanted to do the exactsame thing to me. I merely beat you at your own game. And now we have to do something to make them back off of us. If we do it right, they’ll start talking about how you arenota hypocrite after all, merely a passionate journalist who did not let her relationship get in the way of true reporting. And I’d be rebranded as a former dick turned lover with redeeming qualities. So—”
She cuts me off, but not with words. Standing on her toes, Gigi crushes her lips against mine.
A groan escapes me. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her against me and deepening the kiss. I’m aware that all of this is pretense—the blinding lights of the camera and her stiffness in my arms are a strong reminder—but this kiss makes me newly aware of how much I desire her.
How much I never stopped wanting her.
A few seconds later, she backs away from me, her cheeks an even deeper red. “Fine,” she says. “Let’s get this over with.”
She turns around and strides toward the entrance of Bowlero. I follow her, cursing myself for my brief but intense reaction to her proximity.
I need to remember that everythingabout Gigi is a ticking time bomb. There’s the small issue of us having to discuss our baby, but everything else needs to be shelved and put away. The most important thing right now is to redeem my image enough to get Theodore his election.
Bowlero is a large space half-cast in darkness, with spots of disco light scattered at various points across its length.
“I’m not exactly sure this is a good spot,” Gigi says as she shrugs off her coat. “It’s too dark and intimate. No onewill spot us here.”
I shake my head, leading her over to the bowling lanes. “I disagree,” I say. “The paparazzi have a way of infiltrating the most intimate spots. And with the little show we put on out there, they’re going to wantto follow us.”
