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I read the headlines linking to the various gossip sites.
Chloe and Bryce Fight Back on Cheating Rumors
Felicia Who? Bryce Only Has Eyes for Chloe
Bryce and Chloe Can’t Keep Their Hands off Each Other—And It’s So Cute
I clicked on the first article. As usual, there was zero reporting. It was all pictures, but at least these were happy ones. They were shots from the boat ride back from Northeast Harbor, with Daphne at the helm. Bryce had his arms wrapped around me from behind. We were both smiling. There was even one of us kissing—I didn’t even remember doing that, but the picture was cute. My heart twisted, remembering how happy I’d felt to be back in his arms.
I clicked on the following link. There was an uncharacteristically unflattering photo of Felicia. She was scowling at her phone, her shoulders slumped. I didn’t know if it was a new picture or if the internet gods had dug it up from some old archive, but in any event, it sold the message: Felicia was upset. The next photo was of Bryce and I laughing, his arm thrown around me as we walked down the dock. We looked like we didn’t have a care in the world—young, in love, living our happily ever after. The juxtaposition of these photos was crude but still clever. Felicia was losing. Bryce and Chloe were winning. I’m not going to lie, it felt much better being on the winning side of the “article.”
The final piece had the money shots from inside the boutique. The crafty photographer had snapped one of us slipping inside the dressing room, an intense look on Bryce’s face. “According to a source, they were locked in the private fitting room for several minutes.” The next shots were of us coming out. Both of our faces were flushed. Bryce’s tie was askew, and his hair was a mess. Idefinitelylooked glowing, as though I’d been freshly fucked. We were both smiling. Bryce had his hand firmly on my ass.
We looked happy and in love. We looked like we couldn’t keep our hands off each other—even in a boutique—and it reallywasso cute.
My eyes filled with tears. “Chloe?” Midge’s voice rose in alarm. “What’s the matter?”
I blinked back tears. “I j-just love my husband so much. I’m glad I don’t have to read that nasty crap about Felicia anymore. This is so much better.”
“It is. Those are nice pictures, hon. Don’t be sad—you’ve got everything in the world to look forward to.”
I wiped at my eyes. “Thank you, Midge. That means a lot.” But sadly, it wasn’t true.
Still, I vowed to hold it together. I had my husband to think about. My brother.
I let Midge go heavy on the makeup—I needed it for television. She smoothed my hair with a flat iron, making it fall in silky waves over my shoulders. The dress she’d chosen was another jewel tone, a deep sapphire-blue, which was fitted and flattering. Of course she insisted that I wear mile-high heels on the premise that they would make “my butt look awesome.”
When I argued that I’d be sitting down, she only rolled her eyes and shoved me out the door.
Olivia Jensen waited at the landing, clutching her signature enormous iced coffee. She was no Bryce, but at least she smiled at me. “You look perfect, Chloe. That dress will crush it on camera. How are you feeling?”
“Nervous,” I admitted once I reached her. “They aren’t going to make me talk much, are they?”
“They’re definitely going to ask you some questions.” Olivia looked thoughtful as she led me through the house. The interview was being conducted downstairs, in the media room. It was on the lower level, a section I’d never ventured to. Apparently, it had excellent sound quality. The camera crew had come to the island in the middle of the night before the paparazzi would be awake to snap pictures. The network wanted this to be exclusive.
The morning talk-show hosts were going to interview me live from New York; I was set up for a video chat. They’d sent the production crew and an assistant to get me set up and walk me through the process.
“Let me talk you through it.” Olivia opened the door to the media room, which was buzzing with the camera crew settling all the last-minute details. “They’re going to want to know how you are holding up during the investigation and how Bryce is. They will probably ask you about the cheating rumors, even though I told them to go light on that. Finally, they might ask you about the upcoming wedding, what you’re wearing, and maybe what it’s like living in a giant mansion on a private island.”
“Okay. That doesn’t sound too bad—except for the cheating part.” The only thing I had to remember, the one crucial detail, was Gene’s instructions.Make it seem as though you’re crazy in love with my son.
That shouldn’t be too hard. It was the truth, even though the truth hurt.
The assistant, who wore glasses and clutched her clipboard as though her life depended on it, hustled over to me. “Are you ready, Mrs. Windsor?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“You lookgreat. That dress is perfect. I’m going to mic you, okay?” I held still as she clipped a small microphone to the collar of my dress. The assistant stood back and inspected me, an approving look on her face. “We might need to steal your hair and makeup person away. She’sterrific.”
That brought a genuine smile to my face. “Yeah, she is. I’ll tell her you said so—except for the stealing her away part.”
“Ha, fair enough. We’re going to go ahead and get started, okay? Follow me.” She brought me to a high, long table with a glass of water on it. “Stand behind here and face the screens. Let me show you what you’ll be looking at.”
She nodded, and a cameraman lit up several screens. There was a picture of a studio in New York, with two well-dressed women sitting in chairs facing the cameras. Behind them was a large window with an audience standing outside, smiling and waving. The other two screens were individual angles of each of the women.
“You’re going to look like this,” the assistant said, pointing at the final screen. My image popped up. I looked better than I should—I was miserable inside. This interview was the first part of Gene’s plan, and I was dreading it. I felt like I was about to walk the plank. Once I started, there was no way back.
“Let’s go, everyone! Live in five!” The assistant scurried away to the other side of the cameras. Olivia Jensen gave me a thumbs-up from the sideline.
