Page 6
Story: Rockstar's Fake Engagement
More camera clicks as I clutch my slipping towel.
Lacey’s face has gone pale, her perfect composure cracking. I open my mouth to protest, explain, or say anything—but the older woman is already pulling out her phone.
“I’ll handle the press release,” she says briskly. Then she gives me a pointed look. “You might want to get dressed for the formal announcement.”
The towel suddenly feels very inadequate.
And all I can think is: How the hell did I end up engaged to America’s sweetheart before my morning coffee?
The sharp-dressed woman—Rachel, I hear Lacey call her—springs into action like a general commanding troops. “Mark,” she addresses the photographer, “I’m giving you an exclusive.The full engagement announcement photo spread. The works. But these shots?” She gestures to his camera. “They stay private until we coordinate the release. Tonight. The Plaza. 5 PM.”
The photographer nods eagerly, already backing toward the door. “Of course, Ms. Bennett. Whatever you say.”
“And Mark?” Rachel’s voice could freeze hell. “If even one of these leaks before then, you’ll never work in this industry again.”
The door clicks shut behind him, and the suite plunges into tense silence. Rachel turns to us, her expression somehow both satisfied and exasperated. “Well, this is certainly not how I planned my morning.”
“Rachel,” Lacey starts, her voice tight. “You can’t possibly—“
“Can’t possibly what? Save your careers?” Rachel’s perfectly manicured nails tap against her phone. “Do either of you realize what this looks like? America’s sweetheart caught in a compromising position with...” She eyes me critically. “Who exactly are you?”
“Nate Stone.” I straighten, trying to maintain some dignity while still clutching my towel. “And this is clearly just a hotel mix-up.”
“Nate Stone?” Rachel’s eyes narrow, then widen. “The drummer from Wild? The one meeting with Family First this morning?”
Damn. She’s good.
“The same,” I confirm, watching understanding dawn on Lacey’s face. “Which is why we can all agree this is just a misunderstanding that—“
“That could torpedo Lacey’s career if handled poorly.” Rachel cuts me off. “The company doesn’t do scandals, Mr. Stone. They do fairy tales. And right now, you two will either be a scandal or the perfect romantic love story. Your choice.”
I glance at Lacey. She’s sunk onto the plush sofa, her perfect posture crumbling. “This is insane,” she whispers.
“This is damage control,” Rachel corrects. “Lacey, your new film opens in three weeks. A family film, may I remind you. And Mr. Stone, I imagine Family First won’t look kindly on their potential new face being caught in a... compromising position.”
“But we’re not—“ I begin.
“Together?” Rachel arches an eyebrow. “Tell that to the photos of you practically naked in Lacey’s hotel suite at eight in the morning.”
“My hotel suite,” I correct automatically.
“Actually,” Lacey speaks up, “it’s my suite. I checked in yesterday afternoon.”
“Which makes it worse,” Rachel points out. “Because now it looks like you invited him here.”
I run a hand through my still-wet hair, forgetting about the towel for a moment and grabbing it quickly. “This is ridiculous. We can explain—“
“That the company’s own staff couldn’t handle basic room assignments?” Rachel’s laugh is sharp. “Yes, I’m sure the company will love the publicity. And Family First? This won’t endear you to them.”
She’s right, damn it. Emily has been negotiating this endorsement deal for months. Family First, with its corporate connections and wholesome image, chose me specifically because I’ve always kept my private life private. No scandals, no tabloid drama—just the music. But one misunderstanding could ruin everything we’ve worked for.
“So what exactly are you suggesting?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
Rachel’s smile is cobra-sweet. “A romantic love story for the ages. Rockstar falls for Hollywood’s princess. Secret dating. Romantic proposal. The press will eat it up. The company and Family First both get their perfect couple, and Lacey’s career and your endorsement deal stays intact.”
“And if we refuse?” Lacey asks quietly.
“Then, for you at least, I hope you have a backup career planned.” Rachel checks her watch. “You both have until the press conference tonight to decide. We’ll meet a few hours beforehand. If you agree to be engaged, then you better learn toact like you’re madly in love. I would suggest you start practicing immediately.” She heads for the door, then pauses. “Oh, and Mr. Stone? Please put some clothes on. Your fiancée’s reputation is at stake.”
Lacey’s face has gone pale, her perfect composure cracking. I open my mouth to protest, explain, or say anything—but the older woman is already pulling out her phone.
“I’ll handle the press release,” she says briskly. Then she gives me a pointed look. “You might want to get dressed for the formal announcement.”
The towel suddenly feels very inadequate.
And all I can think is: How the hell did I end up engaged to America’s sweetheart before my morning coffee?
The sharp-dressed woman—Rachel, I hear Lacey call her—springs into action like a general commanding troops. “Mark,” she addresses the photographer, “I’m giving you an exclusive.The full engagement announcement photo spread. The works. But these shots?” She gestures to his camera. “They stay private until we coordinate the release. Tonight. The Plaza. 5 PM.”
The photographer nods eagerly, already backing toward the door. “Of course, Ms. Bennett. Whatever you say.”
“And Mark?” Rachel’s voice could freeze hell. “If even one of these leaks before then, you’ll never work in this industry again.”
The door clicks shut behind him, and the suite plunges into tense silence. Rachel turns to us, her expression somehow both satisfied and exasperated. “Well, this is certainly not how I planned my morning.”
“Rachel,” Lacey starts, her voice tight. “You can’t possibly—“
“Can’t possibly what? Save your careers?” Rachel’s perfectly manicured nails tap against her phone. “Do either of you realize what this looks like? America’s sweetheart caught in a compromising position with...” She eyes me critically. “Who exactly are you?”
“Nate Stone.” I straighten, trying to maintain some dignity while still clutching my towel. “And this is clearly just a hotel mix-up.”
“Nate Stone?” Rachel’s eyes narrow, then widen. “The drummer from Wild? The one meeting with Family First this morning?”
Damn. She’s good.
“The same,” I confirm, watching understanding dawn on Lacey’s face. “Which is why we can all agree this is just a misunderstanding that—“
“That could torpedo Lacey’s career if handled poorly.” Rachel cuts me off. “The company doesn’t do scandals, Mr. Stone. They do fairy tales. And right now, you two will either be a scandal or the perfect romantic love story. Your choice.”
I glance at Lacey. She’s sunk onto the plush sofa, her perfect posture crumbling. “This is insane,” she whispers.
“This is damage control,” Rachel corrects. “Lacey, your new film opens in three weeks. A family film, may I remind you. And Mr. Stone, I imagine Family First won’t look kindly on their potential new face being caught in a... compromising position.”
“But we’re not—“ I begin.
“Together?” Rachel arches an eyebrow. “Tell that to the photos of you practically naked in Lacey’s hotel suite at eight in the morning.”
“My hotel suite,” I correct automatically.
“Actually,” Lacey speaks up, “it’s my suite. I checked in yesterday afternoon.”
“Which makes it worse,” Rachel points out. “Because now it looks like you invited him here.”
I run a hand through my still-wet hair, forgetting about the towel for a moment and grabbing it quickly. “This is ridiculous. We can explain—“
“That the company’s own staff couldn’t handle basic room assignments?” Rachel’s laugh is sharp. “Yes, I’m sure the company will love the publicity. And Family First? This won’t endear you to them.”
She’s right, damn it. Emily has been negotiating this endorsement deal for months. Family First, with its corporate connections and wholesome image, chose me specifically because I’ve always kept my private life private. No scandals, no tabloid drama—just the music. But one misunderstanding could ruin everything we’ve worked for.
“So what exactly are you suggesting?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
Rachel’s smile is cobra-sweet. “A romantic love story for the ages. Rockstar falls for Hollywood’s princess. Secret dating. Romantic proposal. The press will eat it up. The company and Family First both get their perfect couple, and Lacey’s career and your endorsement deal stays intact.”
“And if we refuse?” Lacey asks quietly.
“Then, for you at least, I hope you have a backup career planned.” Rachel checks her watch. “You both have until the press conference tonight to decide. We’ll meet a few hours beforehand. If you agree to be engaged, then you better learn toact like you’re madly in love. I would suggest you start practicing immediately.” She heads for the door, then pauses. “Oh, and Mr. Stone? Please put some clothes on. Your fiancée’s reputation is at stake.”
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