"Smile like you actually want to marry her, Richard."
I resisted the urge to flip off Derek, my father's campaign manager, who was adjusting my tie backstage at the Manhattan Center. Apparently, I was part of today's show.
"I'm smiling," I said through gritted teeth.
"You look constipated." Derek stepped back. "This is your first public appearance with your fiancée. The press is going to eat this up. So try to look like you didn't just swallow glass."
The truth was I could barely look at Summer without remembering her pressed against that bathroom sink three days ago. How close we'd come to getting caught.
The door opened and Summer walked in with her father.
She was wearing a pale blue dress, her blonde hair falling in waves. When her green eyes met mine, I saw the same flash of memory.
"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Sam said, squeezing my shoulder hard enough to hurt. A reminder of who was really in control.
"You look nice," I said once we were alone.
"You too." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "So what's the story?"
"Met at a charity gala six months ago. Love at first sight."
"Right. Because that's believable." She finally looked at me. "I hate this."
"Join the club."
"We should probably look like we can stand each other. The cameras are everywhere."
"I can fake it if you can."
She moved closer, straightening my tie. To anyone watching, it would look intimate. "Just don't touch me unless absolutely necessary."
"Wasn't planning on it."
But her hands lingered on my chest and I could smell her perfume.
"Two minutes," Derek called.
The crowd noise was more than loud when we stepped into the wings. The Manhattan Center was packed, cameras lining the back wall. My father was already on stage.
"And now," Michael's voice boomed, "I'd like to introduce my son Richard and his beautiful fiancée, Summer Trudeau."
The crowd erupted.
I offered Summer my hand. She stared at it, then took it, with her sweaty palm or maybe that was mine.
We walked out and camera flashes went off like strobe lights. My father pulled Summer into a hug, the perfect photo op.
"Richard and Summer have a beautiful love story," Michael announced. "They met six months ago and knew immediately they'd found something special. In a world of political cynicism, their love reminds us that fairy tales do come true."
The crowd ate it up.
"Now, I'll let the happy couple say a few words."
Summer looked at me, panic flashing. We hadn't prepared speeches.
I leaned into the microphone. "When I met Summer, I wasn't looking for love. But sometimes the best things in life are the ones you don't plan for. She's smart, beautiful, and challenges me every day to be better. I'm the luckiest guy in the world."
The crowd applauded and Summer's hand tightened in mine.
She stepped to the microphone. "Richard is everything I never knew I needed. He's kind, driven, and he makes me laugh even when I want to strangle him." A few people chuckled. "Being with him feels like coming home. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him."
The applause was deafening.
"Kiss her," Derek hissed from the wings. "The cameras want it."
I turned to Summer. "We have to."
I cupped her face, tilting it up. For the cameras, I told myself. But the second my lips touched hers, everything else disappeared. It was supposed to be brief, professional. Instead, I deepened it, my hand sliding into her hair. She made a small sound and kissed me back, her fingers gripping my jacket.
The crowd went insane.
When we broke apart, Summer looked as shocked as I felt.
The rest of the event was a blur. More speeches, more photos. By the time we escaped backstage, my face hurt from smiling.
"That was a nightmare," Summer said, kicking off her heels.
"Could have been worse."
My phone started buzzing. Notifications flooding in. "We're trending. Number one on Twitter."
"They're going to expect more of this. More appearances, more kissing, more pretending."
"That was the deal."
"I know. I just didn't think it would feel so real."
"It's not real," I said, but my voice came out uncertain.
"Right. Not real." She met my eyes. "That kiss was just for the cameras."
"Obviously."
We stared at each other and the air felt heavy, charged.
"I should go," Summer said finally. "My father's car is waiting."
She left and I stood there alone, my phone still buzzing about how perfect we were together.
A text from an unknown number popped up just then : *You looked good up there, Come by the Four Seasons, room 2804. I promise I'm better company than my sister. - A*
Autumn?
I deleted it, few minutes later someone knocked on the door. "It's open."
Autumn walked in wearing a tight red dress.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to congratulate you." She crossed toward me. "That was quite a performance. You almost had me convinced it must be exhausting, pretending to be in love with my sister."
"I'm not doing this with you."
"Doing what?" She reached out, trailing a finger down my tie. "Having a conversation?"
I grabbed her wrist. "Don't."
"Why not?" She leaned closer. "We both know this marriage is a sham. Summer doesn't want you any more than you want her. So why waste time with someone who's only doing this because Daddy forced her to?"
"You need to leave."
"I could make your life so much easier, Richard." Her hand moved to my chest. "I actually want to be part of this world and I'd be much more accommodating than summer."
She leaned in to kiss me but I stood up abruptly, forcing her back.
"Get out."
"You're making a mistake. Summer's going to ruin this for you. She doesn't know how to play the game. But I do."
"I said get out."
"Fine." She smoothed her dress. "But when she screws this up, and she will, don't say I didn't warn you."
"Out." There was no need to be polite if she wasn't going to respect herself. I already had more than enough hate for Summer. I didn't need to add more people from their mafia family to my world.
I turned away, pulling out my phone, done with this conversation. Done with the Trudeau family and their games.
It wasn't until I heard the soft whisper of fabric hitting the floor that I realized Autumn never left.
I turned slowly.
Her dress pooled at her feet like spilled wine. She stood there completely bare, watching me with those dark, calculating eyes, completely unashamed. Her chin was lifted, daring me to look away.
I opened my mouth and in that same moment the door swung open and the last person I expected to see stood frozen in the doorway.