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But Jake just shrugs, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Suit yourself."
With that, he saunters off into the crowd, leaving me fuming with anger and frustration. I can feel Marissa's eyes on me, so I put my emotions under control.
I've always been known to be a bit of a troublemaker, but I don't want her to think that way about me, too. Her opinion matters to me.
But as I take a deep breath and try to regain my equilibrium, I tell myself to calm down because, after all, Marissa is just my friend and assistant. Nothing more than that. So why does the thought of her with someone else leave me feeling so unsettled?
I might be a playboy with a reputation for jumping from one woman to another. But when it comes to Marissa, she's unlike anyone I've ever met.
She's special. And no matter what anyone else says, I'll do whatever it takes to protect her from guys like Jake.
"Are you okay?" I ask her, and she nods timidly.
"Thank you for getting him to back off. He was making me really uncomfortable."
It’s all my fault for asking her to come with me. She’s my guest, and I'll make sure to keep her safe.
"I’m sorry for subjecting you to all of this."
"You handled it, so it's fine. I'm just glad to be here with you."
My heart does a cartwheel at her declaration, and I tip my head a little to hide the stupid grin on my face.
"I’m glad you're here too."
Halfway through the event, I finally decide to grant the reporters an interview. They swarm around us alongside photographers, eager to capture every moment of the evening, and I give them my signature dashing smile.
"So, Bryce, care to comment on the rumors about you and Sheila being romantically involved?" one reporter asks, thrusting a microphone in my face.
Sheila Smith is a wannabe who would do anything for fame. And currently, she's using my name to climb up the social ladder and build her social media fanbase. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, opting instead for a nonchalant shrug.
"There's nothing to comment on. It's just gossip."
But the reporter persists, pushing for more details. "But there have been sightings of you two together, and sources say you've been spending a lot of time with her. Can you confirm or deny these rumors?"
I grit my teeth, struggling to maintain my composure as the questions continue to come at me from all sides. The last thing I need is to fuel the fire of speculation surrounding my personal life. Sheila's really spinning all of this in her favor.
I don't want Marissa to think of me like that.
To make matters worse, I can't help but notice the way some of the men at the event are looking at Marissa, their eyes lingering just a little too long.
I try to ignore it, focusing on the conversation at hand, but the sight of a particularly bold guest leaning in close to Marissa, his hand brushing her arm, sends a surge of irritation through me.
Frustrated and unable to contain my anger, I make my way over to Marissa, grab her hand tighter, and turn to face the reporters. A sudden burst of defiance rises within me.
"There've been enough assumptions about my personal life. I'm putting an end to it right now."
The reporters fall silent, all eyes turning to me as I take a deep breath and steel myself for what I'm about to say next. "This is my fiancée, Marissa, and we’re getting married in a week," I announce, my voice ringing out with a clarity that leaves no room for distrust.
The reporters erupt into a frenzy of excitement, their cameras flashing as they clamor for more details. But I ignore their questions, focusing instead on Marissa as I squeeze her hand tightly.
Marissa's hand trembles in mine, her palm clammy and fingers twitching. Her eyes bore into me, and her pupils dilated with alarm. She stands frozen beside me, muscles tensed as if ready to flee.
Yikes.
Chapter 13
Marissa