Page 37 of Size King

“Okay.”

“And so, we’ll just say we’ve been close for a while,” he says. “If we look like we’re in love, it’ll make our sex tape seem less like a dirty reveal and more like an invasion of our privacy as lovers.”

I can’t admit it aloud, but I think his logic is sound. I’m actually kind of turned on by the level of critical thinking he’s given this.

“If we say we’re together, we can easily correct the media,” he says. “You can say that I’m not harassing you, we’re making love. I’m not harassing you, right?”

I laugh. “Right.”

“We may have to get a little corny, but it doesn’t have to last forever,” he says. “Do you think you could pretend to be my girlfriend for a little while? Just until the storm passes?”

I’m initially reluctant. It seems like a far-fetched idea to me at first, but then I think to myself,Why is it such a weird idea?

I love being with him. I enjoy my job more because I know I get to see him during work hours. He is easily the best lover I’ve ever had, and he genuinely seems to care about my wellbeing.

“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll be your temporary girlfriend until the storm passes.”

“Really?” he asks happily. “Kate, would youreallydo that for me? I’m asking for a lot here. You never agreed to something like this when you took the job.”

“I said I would never let you down,” I remind. “Truthfully, I have no idea how else to handle all this. I think your idea is actually quite intelligent and will probably be effective. I don’t think it’ll be hard pretending to be your girlfriend. You’re a pretty awesome guy. And you’re sexy as fuck.”

I see it in his eyes. He interprets those words as an invitation.

“So, maybe you should come over to my place tonight,” he suggests. “If you’re up for it. You want to crash with me? We could chill in the hot tub, sip on some wine, have sex until the sun comes up.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline, sir. I think until we have our press conference, it would be better and safe if we stayed at our respectable homes tonight.”

“Okay,” he says, disappointed. “And after our press conference?”

“You can take me back to your house and do whatever you want to me,” I say.

“Anything?” he asks devilishly.

“Anything, baby.”

15

Aiden

When I wake up early Tuesday morning, the first thought that enters my head, and subsequently remains in my head, is whether going with the whole “secret romance” façade will be enough. Will Kate acting like my girlfriend be enough to satisfy the fickle public? That footage of us having sex is pretty explicit.

I know there are plenty of people in love that don’t have to get married, but what the media is doing is painting Kate and me as randy freaks that can’t control their urges. I can’t help but ponder on our strategy.

Being in love is one thing. We can claim we’re in love as many times as we want, and who’s going to tell us otherwise? I know the press isn’t just going to want a show; they are going to want assurances. We can both act as though we’re professionals, but I start to fear that nothing we say will matter. We can’t just say something—that video is damning—we have to show and tell.

Before leaving my house to confront the press, I go and grab something from the bottom drawer of an old dresser in my basement. It’s a small jewelry box.

When I get to Tech Wreck, everything is set up. The crowd is no longer disorderly and chaotic, but it’s still hungry and ready for us. I’m not as prepared as I want to be, but I’m as ready as I’m going to get.

Kate has been texting all that morning, running through the plan. I’ve played it as vaguely as I can with her, since I’m not sure what I want to do, and I’m nervous about proposing to up the game from boyfriend and girlfriend to fiancé and fiancée. I realize that springing something this big on her so suddenly is a dick move, but she admitted to me that she has no plan. I’m going to do what I think is best.

When I get up to the podium, Kate is there waiting for me. She is smiling at me like I’ve never seen her before. I interpret this as a look of adoration and roll with it. I beam at her, sensing her nervousness clearly, ready to take on the press.

I clear my throat and take center stage. “Thank you all for coming here today.”

The cameras and cell phones are clicking away rapidly in the audience. I only pause for one second, but they are prepared to throw questions at us right away, some expected and some bizarre.

“Mr. Marx, Ms. Harly, can you explain the security footage?” “Is this how you always conduct your business?” “Is it true most of your customer service jobs are located in Japan?” “Did you rape Sarah Blackburn?” “Will you resign as CEO?” “Ms. Harly, is the sex between you two consensual?”