Page 12 of Fake Lemons Love and Luxury

SEAN

I keep it professional. At least, I tell myself I do.

Our fake relationship goes public with a strategic article from People .

High-quality pictures of us are taken. Wren and I walk inside a restaurant, hands entwined.

Sunlight catching in her hair. Her fingers are small in mine.

I whisper something to her about the paparazzi thinking we can’t spot them.

But just as I say that, they whip out their cameras and start taking pictures of us, calling out questions.

Wren laughs, whispering that I jinxed it.

The moment of our laughter is pure magic.

It goes viral as soon as it hits the internet.

The attention is staggering. Wren and Talia have always trusted People magazine when it comes to official releases, and this time is no different.

The article includes a brief profile about me and my daughter being supermodel, Jen Langston, Wren’s best friend.

Talia sends them the first official statement concerning our romance.

“Wren is in a healthy, happy place in her life surrounded by people who care deeply for her and enjoying the company of someone who has been a steady source of strength and support. She’s grateful to have a strong support system as she continues to build Lemon LLC’s future.”

Short. Sweet. Just suggestive enough to spark romance rumours but careful enough that we can deny it if we ever need to.

The media eats it up. Jen being involved in the story somehow makes it even more intriguing and interesting to the public. She gets asked by reporters at a fashion event about the news of I and Wren’s dating rumors. Jen jokes, “My father and Wren are dating? Wow, who would’ve thought? Not me!”

Almost overnight, the story changes. Headlines shift from “Thief or Trendsetter?” to “Who's the Silver Fox in Wren Sinclair's Life?”

I become the mystery the internet wants to solve. Her social media surges with engagement. Thousands of comments. Millions of views. Her team rallies around the energy boost.

“We're trending in three categories,” Talia announces during their morning meeting, her voice light with relief. “The plagiarism accusations have dropped to page three of search results.”

“It’s not gone yet,” Raj mutters, but even he looks less panicked than usual.

“It's progress,” Wren says.

Bailey, the content and social media head, claps her hands. “The Silver Fox hashtag has over a hundred thousand posts. Woo! I guess people love a good mystery man.”

“Especially when that man turns out to be Jen Langston’s hot father,” Ava winks.

“Wonderful,” I say. “Just what I've always wanted.”

Wren's laugh catches me off guard. It's genuine and bright, and I find myself smiling.

“You two have a fan club now, by the way.”

Everyone in the room bursts into laughter.

I turn to Talia in disbelief. “What?”

“Well yes,” Bailey says, showing us a group page. “Your ship name is Wrenan and your fandom name is WrenanHearts.”

“Aww.” Ava laughs. “How sweet. I love it.”

I smirk. “What sort of name is WrenanHearts?”

“This is hilarious but I think it’s kind of cute,” Wren says, holding back a laugh at the look on my face.

“Right. Wrenan is kind of original. I’d have rolled my eyes if they came up with something like SeanWren or Serenators. Those are so overused.”

I shake my head at Raj’s approval. “Well, if Raj is feeling positive about it. I guess I shouldn't complain.”

The next days blur together. Going out in public with Wren. Standing close enough to feel the warmth of her skin without touching. Learning the exact smile that suggests intimacy without promising it.

Today, I'm meeting Jen for lunch. She’s been out of town since the news of our romance broke and we’ve not spoken about it much.

She’s played it cool in public, sidestepping questions with vigorous media training drilled into her.

I owe her an explanation before she storms Wren's office demanding answers.

“You're late,” Jen says when I slide into the booth across from her. Our favorite diner in L.A. hasn't changed in fifteen years. Same cracked leather seats. Same faded menus.

“Traffic.”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “Busy schedule being America's newest heartthrob?”

“Please don't.”

“Dad, what are you doing?” Her eyes search my face. My daughter always could see right through me.

“My job.”

“Oh? Dating your client is your job now? Interesting.”

“We're not dating.”

“Could've fooled me. And the entire internet.”

The waitress brings coffee without us asking. We've been coming here that long.

“It's a strategy,” I explain. “We didn’t plan this at first like you know. We got caught in a vulnerable moment.”

“It was a forehead kiss.”

“Yes, why don't you ask the media and the general public why they made an uproar over a forehead kiss in the first place.”

Jen smirks. “Please continue with your justifications.”

“I’m not justifying myself. I’m telling you the reason why this happened. We’re trying to redirect the media narrative. Give them something more interesting than plagiarism accusations.”

“So you two are just... what? Pretending to be in love?”

“Not in love. Just…seeing each other.”

Jen stirs sugar into her coffee. Three packets. Always three. “And how long is this charade supposed to last?”

“Just until we gather enough evidence to tackle Camille and Marlowe Grey, and her new product launch. A month, maybe two.”

“And Wren is okay with all this? This PR stunt?”

“She was reluctant at first. But this is a good plan to scale through the accusations. For now.”

Jen sighs. “Dad, Wren has been through a lot.”

“I know her history.”

“Do you? Because pretending to date someone when there are cameras and gossip and pressure... that's not simple. Not for someone who's been through what she has. This romance thing between you two has the public hooked. It’s everywhere. I keep getting asked about it. Even by Derek.”

I take a sip of my coffee. Black. Bitter. I grimace but not because of the coffee. “You’re still with that boy?”

“He’s better behaved of late. We’re working through our issues. But this conversation is not about me.”

“You deserve better than that boy.”

“Dad—”

“Wren and I are fine. This is just business. PR to smooth over the false accusations mess. Simple as that.”

“Is it? Because I see how you look at her in those photos.”

I try to laugh it off. “What are you talking about?”

“I've seen you with clients before. This isn't that look.”

The waitress brings our food. I ordered the usual. Reuben sandwich. Side of fries but I have no appetite now.

“Of course, because we have to play it up for the cameras. I suppose you know how these things work.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m worried. Because I know how these things work. I know how messy and chaotic things could end up becoming.”

“It won’t.”

She gives me a long stare.

“She's an interesting woman, for sure,” I admit.

“Dad.”

“What?”

“Be careful. With her heart and yours.”

I put down my fork. “Jen, I know what I'm doing.”

“I hope so.”

“It's just a job.”

“If you say so.” She takes a bite of her salad. “But what happens when the job ends? Have you thought about that?”

I haven't. I don't want to.

“We'll go our separate ways. Like adults.”

“Simple as that?”

I clench my jaw. “Simple as that.”

Jen shakes her head. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don't be. I'm fine.”

“And Wren? Is she fine too?”

“Wren’s a professional,” I say.

“Hmm. Alright then.”

“Now, tell me about Derek? Things are going well, you say?”

I change the subject, asking about her boyfriend to shift away from Wren. Jen lets me, but I can tell she's not convinced.

“Better. We’re working on our relationship.” Her mouth curves into a small smile. “He’s more present of late. I don’t know what changed, but it’s good to see.”

My eyes narrow at her. “Is there something more?”

She beams, picking at her fries. “Well…”

“Well?”

“I don’t know what changed, but he’s been talking about marriage a lot in the last few weeks.”

My hands pause mid-air. “Marriage?”

“He’s asking if I want to get married someday. Wonders if my father would give him something other than a hard stare when next he visits,” she says this with a pointed look. “Talking about the number of children we would like to have. I don’t want to think too much of it.”

“That sounds like a man looking to settle down. I’ll tell you that.”

She leans in, a gleam in her eyes. “You think so too, right? I was trying not to get too excited about it before he proposed, but I can’t help myself.”

I lean into my seat. “What about you? You wanna marry this Derek boy?”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping as she considers the question.

“Of course, I love Derek. I mean, we’ve had our fair share of issues, but there’s no relationship without issues.

Neither of us has done something as terrible and disrespectful to our relationship as cheating. I’d love to marry Derek someday.”

My chest constricts.

It’s hard to believe my daughter is a grown woman and may be getting married soon.

To me, she’ll always be my little girl. But she’s a grown woman with her own rugged defiance and ridiculous laughter that she got from her mother.

No man would ever be deserving of being her husband.

Even sometimes, I’m not sure I am deserving of being her father.

Jen is so much smarter, kinder, and altogether a better person than I am.

Every day, I wish her mother were alive to see what the tiny bundle of joy she gave birth to has grown to be, all that she’s come to achieve all on her own.

“Dad, are you tearing up?” Jen presses a hand to her mouth, her mouth twitching.

I sniff, rolling my eyes. “That’s not a tear. I’m marveling at this sandwich. Why does it taste extra delicious today?”

She bursts into laughter.

After lunch, I walk her to her car.

“Just be honest with yourself, Dad. That's all I'm asking.”

“I always am.”

“Sure.” She hugs me tight. “I’ll drop by the house after my shoot next week. Take care of my best friend.”

I smirk. “Will do.”

I watch her drive away, her words echoing. Be honest with yourself.

The truth is, the more time I spend with Wren, the harder it becomes to treat this as just another job. I check my phone. Three texts from her already. She sends a link to an article about this with glowing comments from readers.

Wren: The WrenanHearts are quite passionate, wouldn't you say, Silver Fox?

Wren: Hey, so, I’m going to pick up Eric from school and will be going home from there.

Wren: Actually, we’ve decided to stop by the supermarket and pick up a few things for dinner. And Eric just said he got you something. A large Superman, like you are. :)

I smile at my screen like a teenager. I'm so screwed.