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“Yeah, but your reputation precedes you. And I know you get bored.”
“Iget bored?Please.” I roll my eyes, dismissing him. “I still have a lot of undoing to do. Oh, before I forget, I talked to our publicist today. Gabriella sent me the documentation Lena released of our text conversations this morning. Most were taken out of context, and the dates were edited to make it seem like we were still talking and that I was madly in love with her. She also wrote a seventy-five-page manifesto on why I should take her back and how good we were together, detailing private conversations and moments we’d shared during the three years we were married.”
“Fuck her.Especially after what she did to you,” Easton hisses, his voice low and dangerous. “Did she mentionanyof her wrongdoings?”
“Accountability isn’t something she will ever take. Gabriella also warned me that if another one of my relationships ends like that one, it won’t be good for business. The only thing that saved our company’s image was you and Lexi. The foundation of Calloway Diamonds was built on love, and I won’t do anything that could potentially hurt us.”
“Live your life first. We will figure out everything else,” he says, a serious expression etched across his face. “Life is too short, Weston. That’s not a suggestion.”
“So, a direct order? Got it,” I reply, smiling. Warmth floods my chest as I know my brother wants the best for me. “I’m so lucky to have you by my side.”
“I feel the same.” He smiles back.
“Gabriella also suggested a fake engagement. Not related, but my lawyer believes he has a solution to expedite things with Lena.”
Easton’s brow rises in genuine surprise. “Great about the lawyer, but explain the fake engagement.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea after my very public divorce.” I glance at him as a sly grin spreads across my face. “We’ll see.”
“It worked for me. You’d ask Carlee, wouldn’t you?” He smirks, leaning back in his seat as if reminiscing about falling in love.
I ignore his question.
“We’re still in PR crisis mode,” I continue, my voice steady but tinged with urgency, “but the public’s perception has shifted significantly in my favor with the prospect of a new relationship on the horizon. The blind items actually helped.”
He studies me intently, his eyes narrowing as if searching for hidden motives. “What’s the plan?”
“She suggested that Carlee and I should be seen together in public several times. We need to be transparent about our relationship initially and allow the public to draw their own conclusions. That’s easy.” I pause, considering the implications. “After one month, she suggested a proposal, with the intention of having a lengthy engagement.”
Easton holds my gaze, unamused. “And what will you do if you want to be with someone else?”
“We’ll break it off and communicate to the public that we were better as friends while continuing to be seen together. An amicable split,” I explain, trying to keep the tone light, though the weight of the situation is far from it.
“You won’t be able to pretend forever, Weston.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off. “I’ll invite Carlee if it means you’ll be there tonight. It might be nice to introduce her to everyone, considering we’ll be seen together going forward.”
He struggles to suppress a smile. “And this is how it begins. I can’t fucking wait. An official Carlee reveal.”
“No. It’s unrelated.” I shake my head, shifting my tone to serious. “I need a second set of eyes and ears.”
“This sounds serious. At least give me some idea of what’s going on. I don’t need every detail, but if you need intel, I need to understand why.”
I sigh heavily as the gravity of the situation crashes down onme. “I believe Billie’s fashion company is in serious fucking trouble.”
His jaw tightens as something flashes in his eyes. “We spoke yesterday, and she didn’t mention anything.”
“And she won’t,” I reply, frustration lacing my words. “She’s too proud and stubborn, just like us. I have to speak to Asher because he’s a crucial piece of this.”
“Damn,” he says, exhaling sharply, knowing that Asher Banks runs one of the most successful marketing companies in the world.
Only the top-tier clients hire him and his team—a privilege that comes with a hefty price tag. His brother, Nicolas—a partner and one of the best corporate attorneys money can buy—only enhances their cutthroat reputation. The stakes are high, but I will do anything to protect my baby sister.
“What are you wearing to this cocktail party? I assume we’re twinning?” he groans.
“Oh, you love it. I recently picked up my burgundy suit from the dry cleaners,” I explain. “I’ll probably wear that.”
“Great,” he tells me as the SUV stops in front of The Park.