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She was competent enough in the language to read the headline which screamed: "International model Jaylen Monteith finally putting down roots."
"What do you have to say about this?"
She swiveled to the silent man standing by the window as if seeking his help. "I - it was—-" Groping for the chair behind her, she sank down, her entire body trembling. "It was- we were drunk. It was just a spur of the moment- Damn you! Say something!" she shouted at the silent man standing with his back turned to them.
"I already said my piece." He turned to face them; his expression grim. "I told him that it was something that could be easily rectified. It could be annulled."
"Except for this." James opened the magazine and there it was, a picture of her leaving Jaylen's hotel room. "Our lawyers are scrambling."
"No one can prove that we- that anything happened between us." This could not be happening, she thought frantically. She was a sensible woman who always stayed out of trouble. It was just a nightmare.
"The marriage was consummated and there was no prenup." James told her icily. "Which means you are entitled to half of everything-"
"I don't want it." She gave him a pleading look. "I will sign a document and we can- we can pretend as if this never happened."
"It has made international news." He turned his laptop around. "It's the biggest news since—" he gestured with one hand. "Since Harry and Meghan Markle. The press is salivating. Paparazzi are hanging all over the hotel to get a statement."
"I am a PR." She felt like crying. "I can put a spin on it. We were drunk-" She shot an accusing glance at Jaylen. "We had too much to drink and we ended up—"
"At a chapel with a genuine priest. You are married and will stay married for at least a year. If there is anything hinting at it going the way you said it went, the scandal will be spectacular. Not to mention the legal ramifications." James' expression was harsh. "Was this just so that you could piss me off?" he shot a glance at his son.
"Yes Dad, I deliberately got drunk and dragged her into a chapel to get a rise out of you.
Do you think I wanted this? I do not want to be married."
"But you are!"
"I don't want to be married to him!" she cried. "Surely there is a way out of this—" Her phone rang and she grabbed it, grateful for the interruption. "It's my- It's Corey." Without waiting for permission, she pressed the green icon.
"What the hell is going on? You are married? To Jaylen Monteith?"
She closed her eyes in despair. "I cannot talk now—"
"Anika, you had better explain to me what's going on. I have reporters camped out in the lobby of the firm.”
“I am sorry. I cannot think. We- I- we- were drunk and it just happened.”
“Are you married or not?” he was shouting and she was certain the two men could hear everything he was saying.
“I—” She closed her eyes briefly and fought tears. “I will get back to you.”
“Anika—”
She hung up on him and sat there staring at the phone in her hand.
“Boyfriend?”
“Go to hell.”
“I am already there sweetheart," he told her sardonically.
“Here is what’s going to happen,” James’ icy voice drew them back to him. “You are the PR person. A press conference will be called and you are going to spin a story. The two of you had been seeing each other for a while in secret and used this trip to secretly marry.
You did not want the excitement of the press and fans spoiling the moment, hence the secrecy. I have had your things moved from your suite into his. You have two hours to gather your composure before joining me in the hotel lobby.”
“I am not that good of an actress, there is no way I am going to pull off expressing joy over this situation.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Jaylen shot at her.
