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I can feel the heat scorch my cheeks just thinking about it. Knowing my parents most likely saw those photos, when I’m supposed to be completely into Ian. What are they thinking? Are they disappointed in me?
“I’m sure Ian is not pleased to see you kissing another man.” Dad rattles the newspaper he’s holding in front of him, and I can hear the amusement in his voice, which fills me with relief. I should’ve known this would be his reaction.
My father loves this sort of thing. A scandal. Before he met my mother, my father was one of the most scandalous people in New York. Young, rich, and unbearably handsome, Fitzgerald Lancaster was a force to be reckoned with. He owned Manhattan in the nineties. And my parents’ relationship started in scandal—Dad basically stole her from the guy she was originally supposed to marry. She was engaged to him and everything.
My dad is what my dear grandmother would call a scoundrel. I’m sure what’s happening to me is giving him serious déjà vu.
I huff out an exasperated breath, trying to play it off. “That kiss between Tate and I was nothing.”
Dad lowers his paper to stare at me. “Looked like something to me.”
“Me too,” Mom murmurs before she takes a dainty bite of toast.
“Honestly? It all feels rather... familiar.” Dad’s blue eyes sparkle with unmistakable pride. “Pretty scandalous, Scarlett. And I never thought you were the type to cause a scandal.”
“Much to your disappointment,” Mom says to him, her tone wry.
He sighs, resting a hand on his chest, the paper flopping forward. “My greatest wish is for my children to live their lives to the fullest. Scarlett, you’ve always been such a good girl. I’m proud of you for rebelling.”
Rolling my eyes, I gulp the coffee down, ignoring the way it scalds my throat. Only my parents would be proud of me for causing a ruckus. Any other Lancaster would be appalled. “Hate to break it to you, but it was all fake. He needed me to help him distract the photographer.”
“Who needed your help?” Mom asks with a frown.
“Tate Ramsey.”
“Isn’t he used to having his photo taken?” Mom asks.
“He was trying to avoid it. After everything he’s been through in the past...” I shrug helplessly, not sure what else I should say.
“Quite an interesting way to distract the photographer, don’t you think?” Dad’s brows shoot up.
“I didn’t realize it would blow up like this.” The only person’s attention I wanted from this is Ian’s, and he probably didn’t even notice, while the rest of the country did.
And now I have no idea how to fix this. How to explain it. There is so much speculation about my supposed relationship with Tate Ramsey, I don’t think anyone would even listen to me.
“Your party has received a lot of attention,” Mom says gently.
“I’m not sure if this is the sort of attention I wanted.”
“You’ve gained so many followers too,” she reminds me. “Isn’t this your goal? Aren’t you trying to grow your reach?”
I glance down at the table, studying my phone sitting next to me, watching as yet another notification lights up the screen. “I’ve been... afraid to check.”
“You haven’t even looked yet?” The shock in my mother’s voice is obvious.
“I was too scared. I looked up my name and the Plaza online, and when I saw all the articles about my... interaction with Tate, I clicked right out of it. I haven’t even gone on my social media.” I was afraid of the comments on the lone photo I shared of me in my dress before I went to the party. Scared of all the photos I’m tagged in, most likely the majority of them having to do with Tate Ramsey and his performance last night.
Well, I’m sure there are plenty of posts about his performance, but the real juicy story is the kiss.
“Darling, open them up right now.” Mom waves a hand. “Go on. Do it. Hurry.”
I open up Instagram, going straight to my profile to find I’ve gained...
Almost a million new followers.
What?
Switching over to my tagged posts, I scroll through them. There are so many, mostly of the kiss, though there are also plenty of photos and videos of Tate performing, accompanied by photos of the party.
