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Jen smirks. “Please continue with your justifications.”

“I’m not justifying myself. I’m telling you the reason why this happened. We’re trying to redirect the media narrative. Give them something more interesting than plagiarism accusations.”

“So you two are just... what? Pretending to be in love?”

“Not in love. Just…seeing each other.”

Jen stirs sugar into her coffee. Three packets. Always three. “And how long is this charade supposed to last?”

“Just until we gather enough evidence to tackle Camille and Marlowe Grey, and her new product launch. A month, maybe two.”

“And Wren is okay with all this? This PR stunt?”

“She was reluctant at first. But this is a good plan to scale through the accusations. For now.”

Jen sighs. “Dad, Wren has been through a lot.”

“I know her history.”

“Do you? Because pretending to date someone when there are cameras and gossip and pressure... that's not simple. Not for someone who's been through what she has. This romance thing between you two has the public hooked. It’s everywhere. I keep getting asked about it. Even by Derek.”

I take a sip of my coffee. Black. Bitter. I grimace but not because of the coffee. “You’re still with that boy?”

“He’s better behaved of late. We’re working through our issues. But this conversation is not about me.”

“You deserve better than that boy.”

“Dad—”

“Wren and I are fine. This is just business. PR to smooth over the false accusations mess. Simple as that.”

“Is it? Because I see how you look at her in those photos.”

I try to laugh it off. “What are you talking about?”

“I've seen you with clients before. This isn't that look.”

The waitress brings our food. I ordered the usual. Reuben sandwich. Side of fries but I have no appetite now.

“Of course, because we have to play it up for the cameras. I suppose you know how these things work.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m worried. Because I know how these things work. I know how messy and chaotic things could end up becoming.”

“It won’t.”

She gives me a long stare.

“She's an interesting woman, for sure,” I admit.

“Dad.”

“What?”

“Be careful. With her heart and yours.”

I put down my fork. “Jen, I know what I'm doing.”

“I hope so.”