Page 29

Keeping on par with the ordeal my life has been lately, I shouldn’t be shocked that my flat is completely surrounded by press, pictures of me with Fen are circulating like wildfire across the planet, and the internet is abuzz over the notion that I’m dating Keegan Fritz.

Only this is worse than anything. It’s my actual nightmare come to life.

Or perhaps it’s the start of it.

I wanted to call Keegan to apologize. I wanted to see just how furious with me she is—rightfully so. But I haven’t had a chance. My attorney and PR team haven’t given me a moment’s breath. In between that, Mum and my brothers have been texting, asking if there’s anything they can do and if they should say anything since the UK press is now hounding them. The studio representative has been calling and texting as well.

What a bloody shit show. I had hoped to do this with a plan in place. To have it be controlled and an offensive move. At least the release of it. I didn’t want it to be defensive or us putting out fires that are more like bombs.

It’s my own fault.

I should have taken care of this months ago when I was back in England, but I didn’t because I was a stupid arse, and now look what I’ve done. I let fear win, and it’s costing me, but worse, it’s costing Fen and now Keegan.

The shutters are closed in our place, and I’ve been trying to keep poor Fen as quiet as possible. Tinsley rang and rang until I finally picked up her call. She informed me she’s sending a car and security—theno fucking aroundsort of security—to pick us up and that I should bring whatever Fen and I need to spend at least a few nights at her place.

I didn’t argue it. Her penthouse is massive and has top-level security.

Something I should have gotten us from the start, but old habits die hard, and I have trouble spending money knowing it could all just as easily be gone tomorrow. I like knowing my brothers and my mum are provided for and never have to worry, considering that’s all we did growing up. I never knew if we’d have food for breakfast or dinner that night. I’d scrounge and do what I could for us, and eventually, when I got older, I took the wrong path to make money.

With my AirPods in and my team arguing over a plan and statement, I run around to pack our luggage while Fen watchesCurious George, holding his stuffy like it’s his lifeline and sucking on his fingers. He can sense I’m off and that things aren’t quite right, and it pumps my guilt up yet another degree. At this rate, I’ll have a bleeding ulcer in no time.

“No,” Lance, my chief of PR, barks into the phone. “We’re not saying that. It’s fucking stupid. It needs to be quick, clear, concise, and paint Loomis like he’s Prince fucking Charming who has embraced fatherhood, loves his son, and is in love with Keegan Fritz.”

That freezes me mid-stride. “Wait. Why are we saying I’m in love with Keegan? Why is her name part of this at all? If anything, it should be that we’re friends and nothing more.”

“Friends is the last thing we should call her. She’s a Fritz, and in case you’re not aware of this, you will have to deal with Child Family Services in the city of Boston sooner or later.”

I scrub a wary hand up my face. I’ve spent so much effort and energy not thinking of Keegan that way. And trust me, when she came out to LA for her conference and we went to dinner together and hung out at my place after and then met for brunch the following day that turned into her missing her conference and us sightseeing around LA, there were moments—a lot of moments—where it was nearly impossible to keep us that way. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to touch her.

She didn’t stay with me, she was in her hotel, but we spent time together. More time than we should have, but much like it’s been with her over the last week, I have trouble walking away from her. I was honorable and did the right thing by her then, and that’s what I have to do now.

“We can’t say that,” I state flatly. “We just can’t. It’s wrong to imply she and I are together when we’re not.”

Here comes that marriage joke I made, slapping me in the face again.

“Is she your friend?” Lance pointedly questions.

“Yes. But we’re not exactly close.”

“Didn’t appear that way in the pictures,” Janet, Lance’s assistant, jumps in.

I sigh because I saw the pictures. It looked like I was touching Keegan as a lover would and gazing at her as if she were the moon and stars illuminating the night sky.

“Look…”Fuck!“It’s not like that between us. It’s just not. Keegan is a lovely woman and a good person?—”

“All the more reason she’d want to help out a friend in need. A friend whosesonis in need. Isn’t that what doctors do? They help. They swore an oath to.”

“That’s quite the stretch there, mate.”

“But not incorrect.”

“Lance…” I trail off. Because I know he’s right. I know if the world thought I was in a happy, stable relationship, they’d paint me as the hero dad instead of the villain who fucked a random woman he doesn’t remember and fathered a son whose birthday he doesn’t even know. I’m also very aware of how it would help with social services in this city.

I know all of this.

But the thought of using Keegan like that… “No. I can’t do it.”

“Talk to her. Give her the choice,” Janet suggests. “You might be surprised and find she wants to help.”