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“Wonderful. If you didn’t mind pretending to date, then it’s just another step to pretend to be married?—”
“I’m not going through with a fake wedding just to save your ass,” Keaton grumbled at her.
Her gaze sharpened. “Okay, but then, without a wedding, the studio pulls the plug. No show, no airing. More specifically, no Holly Creek Hops brews in the spotlight on national TV. What would that do to your plans? Hm?” She cocked her head, knowing she had us there.
All our hard work from the summer for nothing. We’d have to scramble to find another way to shine the light on his beer and gain the attention of the distributors. A thousand details flashed through my mind, trying to piece together an alternative route.
Dammit, this had been such a golden opportunity to blend his brand relaunch with this reunion wedding weekend. It was brilliant, if I say so myself. But now…
I cared about Keaton and his goals for the future. Not to mention how this campaign could help propel my career forward. A lot was at stake here.
“Keaton,” I pressed, voice low, urgent. “You’ve already kissed me like you meant it. We’ve shared an office, now a hotel room. Held hands and acted like a couple. I’ve rebranded your entire company with you.”
The tension in his jaw visible, his fingers curled into fists at his sides, like a war going on in the man’s head.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Sophie, it’s marriage. Feels like a line we shouldn’t cross.”
“Just for show. For a few days. Weeks, maybe. It’s not like we’re joint filing our taxes.”
Melanie cut in. “Actually, the studio wants ninety days plus three days of filming along the way to revisit the happy couple. Then you can fake a fight and break things off, pretend to divorce. The whole works. You’ll sign a contract.”
He scowled, pacing away, but I could see the wheels turning. “This is nuts. Why should we help you? We’re not obligated to do this.”
“Well then, good luck with Hops. Without this show, you’re going to need it.” She sauntered toward the door.
“Wait a minute, Melanie. Give us a moment, please.” I pulled Keaton into the bathroom and shut her out.
“We need this for Hops—” I began.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned down to look me square in the eyes. “I won’t have you do this for me. I’ll find another way to reach my goals, but not like this.”
“You don’t want to marry me?” I fluttered my lashes, staring up into his blues. “Last night you wanted things to be real between us.”
“Real, yes. To date. To fuck around and see where things go. Not to get married in front of millions on TV, only to then call it off ninety days later.”
“The marriage wouldn’t be real, Keaton. But we could still date,” I pleaded. I couldn’t believe I was actually pushing for this.
Questions brewed all over his face. “Why would you even want to? A fake wedding feels so… so beneath of us.”
“And you asking me to pose as your wedding date wasn’t?”
“That was different.”
I snorted. “Not by much. Look, I want Hops to be successful and for all of your dreams to come true. That’s good enough reason for me to do this,” I assured him. “I have a lot riding on it too, you know.”
“Ah. Like your own career getting a boost from this?” Why did he say that with such venom?
My armor went back up, crossing my arms. “We both benefit, yes.”
A soft knock distracted us. “If I could just interject here?” Melanie called through the door. “The studio is offering a million dollars to split between both of you if you get married. Money sent upon the fulfillment of the ninety days when yousign the fake divorce papers. Just say yes. Fast. Because we have a lot to do today to prepare for the wedding switch tonight.”
“That’s a lot of money.” My heart raced. Not that I needed the funds. “Think of what it could do for your expansion. Think of the exposure. Your brewery would be everywhere.”
“What about you and me?” he asked, voice low. “What does that do tous, Sophie?”
I lifted my chin. “Posing as man and wife, we’ll certainly discover more about each other. We’ll learn what it’s like to be so close to someone. After it’s all over, we would either be the greatest couple to emerge from a reality show, or be too sick of each other to carry on.”
He considered me for a long moment, eyes intense. “One or both of us could walk away heartbroken, you know.”