Page 19 of Faking the Pass

The Alternative

R osie

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You kept saying, ‘what’s the alternative?’ And until about five minutes ago, I couldn’t think of one. I thought of one.”

Presley’s tone was matter of fact, like it was no big deal that he’d just violated pretty much every facet of my NDA—in spectacular fashion.

And then I’d backed him up, sealing my doom. I wasn’t sure why—it must have just been instinct.

Back in that conference room, looking between the man who wanted to ruin me and the one trying—in a foolhardy way, granted—to defend me, it hadn’t felt like a real choice.

Of course I’d backed Presley up.

He reached out and took my hand, lifting and studying it as if searching for damage.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked in a low rumble.

My head was spinning, and I could barely catch my breath. I might have been in shock. I fell back into the chair behind me.

Presley maintained his hold on my hand, continuing to probe and stroke it.

“Do you think he broke any bones or sprained it? Your hands are so delicate.”

His were strong and warm, and the gentle rubbing was starting to bring down my pulse and allow rational thought back into my brain.

Which was bad.

“I can’t believe it. It’s over. My career is over,” I said.

My head swung back and forth as if on a pendulum. “Now that people know about Gina, they’re going to think I’m a homewrecker. And I’m going to be bankrupt. Is debtor’s prison still a thing?”

Presley’s voice was soothing. “No. You’re gonna be fine. Everything’s fine. I just couldn’t let you do it. You can’t marry that guy.”

The door behind him flung open, and Randy strode inside. His face was red, and his eyes had a wild look in them.

He pointed at Presley. “I hope you’ve got a good lawyer, jock boy, because I’ll be seeing you in court.”

Presley stood to face him, moving slowly and deliberately, not the least bit intimidated.

“For what? Telling the truth isn’t a crime, fuckboy.”

“No, but violating an NDA is punishable in civil court,” Randy said.

He was so mad there was spittle flying from his mouth when he spoke.

Finally he looked down at me. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it’s obvious she told you some protected information.”

Presley smiled. “Actually, she didn’t even mention your tiny dick size—I figured that part out myself.”

Randy’s fists clenched at his sides, but then he looked at Presley’s much greater height and impressive physique and wisely decided against making things physical.

“This is no locker room joke,” he spit. “A hundred-million-dollar investment was riding on her performance in this situation. Now you’ve just made things harder, if not impossible, with your juvenile stunt.”

“So sue me,” Pres said in a challenging tone that only threw more gasoline on the fire burning in Randy’s eyes.

“Oh I intend to,” he said. “You’ll be receiving a subpoena within days. And trust me, it’s going to be very costly.”

Randy turned his malevolent glare on me. “I’m going to push for the full penalty amount—two hundred fifty thousand per violation—and I’ll get it. Plus legal fees.”

Addressing Presley again, he said, “Now if you don’t mind, I need a few minutes alone with my fiancée .”

Presley’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step backward to stand directly beside my chair. Reaching down, he lifted my hand and resumed the gentle stroking motion with his thumb.

“She’s not your fiancée anymore.” There was a pause. “She’s mine. ”

Then he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, shocking the breath out of me.

If I hadn’t been sitting, I would have fallen over.

“What?” Randy roared.

“These last few days have been the happiest of my life,” Presley said. “Rosie and I reconnected—thanks to you, actually—and it was as if not a day had passed. I decided not to waste any more of them. She’s agreed to make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife—at long last.”

It took everything inside me to keep my mouth from gaping like a wide-mouthed bass.

Randy resembled an angry bull more than a fish, his nostrils flaring and his eyes wild with fury.

He turned to me, both brows raised to his augmented hairline.

“Please tell me this isn’t true,” he snarled. “I know you’re gullible and easily led, but if you go along with this… stupid revenge plot or whatever it is, I promise you, the price will be higher than you can even imagine.”

He leaned closer and started wagging his pointer finger in my face. “Not only will the NDA fine wipe out your entire salary for the film—it’ll be your last film. Ever. I’ll make it my life’s mission to see that you never work again.”

The snarl became a cruel sneer. “In fact, I might just recast your role in Charm and reshoot the whole picture so no one ever sees your pointy little face on the big screen.”

“Watch it,” Presley warned. “That’s my future wife’s face you’re talking about.”

Wow. He was a good actor after all. I almost believed the protective hero show he was putting on.

White with rage, Randy straightened and turned back to him.

“As for you, wise guy… we’ll see how funny you think all this is when you’re dragged into court as a witness.”

“No problem.” Presley smiled. “I’ll be glad to swear under oath that you’re an unredeemable asshole.”

Apparently temper overwhelmed his common sense, because Randy tried to throw a punch at Presley. Of course it didn’t land. Presley caught his hand midair and easily stopped it.

He chuckled. “Save it for the courtroom, cowboy. We’ll see you there.”

Visibly trembling with indignation, Randy spun and left the room.

All the survival mode energy left my body, and I slumped in my chair, letting out a pent-up breath and dropping my face into the cradle of my hands.

“What have I done?” I moaned. “He’s not going to stop until even small town community theater productions refuse to cast me.”

Presley’s warm hand covered the back of my head. “I seriously doubt that, though maybe I did push him a little too far. I couldn’t help myself. I followed my gut. At least people know the truth now.”

“Until his PR team gets a hold of it and puts their own sordid spin on the story,” I said into my hands. “They’re going to make it look like you and I have been having an affair.”

“But we haven’t been,” Presley countered.

Now I dropped my hands to my lap and looked up at him. “You know that. I know that. But it’s what people believe that matters.”

“Is it?” he asked. “Look, I get it, but maybe people will like our story better. They usually love the whole movie star and athlete thing.”

He sounded so confident. Poor guy. He was used to dealing with sports reporters— civilized beings.

And I knew he’d meant well by speaking up in the conference room. He’d been trying to help me.

Little did he know, he’d made things much, much worse.

It wasn’t his fault. It was mine for getting romantically involved with Randy in the first place and agreeing to marry him, even though my heart had sunk to my toes when he’d proposed during the Oscars.

Even though my gut had been carrying an ever-increasing tangle of dread since that day.

I took Presley’s hand once again, since it felt so good and this was the last time I’d ever get to hold it.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess. Now you’ll have to go to court, and the reporters will be hounding you—probably for weeks. And this is not your problem. It’s mine.”

He squeezed my fingers and gave me a smile so sweet the ice lining my stomach melted a bit.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I made it my problem by speaking up in there,” he said. “Besides, he’s bluffing. He doesn’t want a court hearing about this. The more information that comes out about this, the worse he looks.”

“You’re wrong. He’ll do it. You don’t know him. Randy is one of the most vindictive people I’ve ever met.”

Presley shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. His lawyers will have nothing. I’m not going to testify against you.”

“You’ll have to. You won’t have a choice. The judge will hold you in contempt.”

“No he won’t,” Presley said in a tone completely free of worry. “Because we’re going to get married.”

He went on as if he didn’t notice my jaw, which was currently residing on the floor between us.

“Spousal privilege says married people can’t be compelled to testify against each other,” he explained.

“You can’t be serious. I thought that was just something you said to get Randy riled up—which worked extremely well, by the way. He’s got a bad temper, but I’ve never seen him that angry.”

“I’m extremely serious,” Presley said. “If he pursues this lawsuit thing, you and I… are going to get married. It’s the most sensible thing to do.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, listen to me, it’s a perfect plan. If we get married, he’ll have basically no shot at getting that money from you. If he’s still dumb enough to take it to court, I’ll pay the legal fees. And if you happen to lose, I’ll pay the NDA fines.”

“It’s so much money.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s a matter of principle at this point.”

He pointed at the door Randy had exited minutes before.

“We can’t let that guy win. And our ‘marriage’ will give all those jackals in there something better to write about than how you got duped into thinking that asshole actually loved you. Maybe it’ll help your career, too.”

Presley offered me a hand up from the chair. I robotically took it and rose to my feet.

“We can create an even more compelling story for the entertainment shows than two co-stars getting married,” he said.

“We’ll give them high school sweethearts who reconnected and realized the magic is still there.

They’ll eat it up. Instead of awful headlines and sad photos of you being chased down and alone, they’ll have shots of the two of us in cool places, having fun… ”

He waggled his eyebrows in a silly way. “...looking beautiful and glamorous—at least on your part. Let’s take advantage of the fact they follow you everywhere and give them something good to write about.”

I blinked in astonishment. “Just so I’ve got this straight… you want me to recover from my fake marriage… by entering into another fake marriage?”

“Exactly.”

“We’d never be able to pull it off. We barely know each other.”

“We know each other… sort of,” he said. “Besides, you’re an actress—a good one. I can’t act to save my life, but with you around, no one will be looking at me .”

I blushed, but his compliment didn’t make this any less insane. “I still don’t understand. What do you get out of all this?”

“That’s the perfection of it.” Presley beamed. “You’d be doing me a favor, too. I don’t want a real relationship. For one thing, I suck at them. I can never please women.”

Here he held up a hand. “Outside the bedroom, I mean. They always want too much, and I just don’t have it to give. Not if I’m going to break that record.”

Gesturing between the two of us, he went on.

“If everyone thinks we’re married and in love, maybe women will stop stalking me all the time, bothering me in bars when I’m with my friends,” he said.

“Maybe the football groupies will stop hanging around the practice field and stadium, waiting to ambush me on my way to the car. And my exes will just give up when they realize I’m officially ‘off the market.’ It’s a fair exchange.

You won’t be financially ruined, and I won’t be distracted. ”

Presley was so sure of his plan. And I had to admit I much preferred this ruse than my other option.

If I had to choose between fake marriages, I’d much rather be in one with Presley, my sort-of friend, than with Randy, who no doubt hated me with the fire of a thousand suns by this point.

“Okay,” I said, wheezing a bit. “Let’s do it.”

Presley gave me a brilliant smile. “Let’s do it.”

He opened the door for me, and we walked together toward the front of the mansion, where the now-ravenous press awaited.

Just before pushing the front door open, Presley took my hand, and a bucketful of wriggling worms filled my stomach.

We’re really doing this.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was kind of perfect.

Having been betrayed in the worst way, I had zero interest in embarking on a new relationship anytime soon.

If I married Presley, then naturally I wouldn’t have to live with Randy or even see him apart from my contracted public appearances to promote the movie.

That was if he didn’t scrap the whole thing and reshoot it with another actress, which he might.

Thinking of his vindictive nature, I started to feel a tiny sense of relief.

Having to marry Randy and live under his roof for the next year might have just killed me.

Pretending to be in love with Presley Lowe for the next few months would be a breeze by comparison.

Maybe even too easy.