Page 8 of The Exception

“That’s just it. If you donated publicly, you would not only raise awareness for the causes that are important to you. But your generosity might encourage other high-net-worth individuals to donate more of their wealth as well.”

“Not likely.” I scoffed. “Most of them are trying to evade taxes. They’re not just going to give money away from the goodness of their hearts.”

“That’s probably what a lot of people think about you.”

I grumbled at that.

“Okay. If you don’t like that idea, then let them see you with Queen V and Prince Albert. Who doesn’t love dogs? Or hell, you could just tell the story of how you rescued them. Or we could have someone interview you in your rooftop garden. Or with your family.”

I gnashed my teeth. “That’sprivate.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re in the public eye. You can’t expect to change people’s opinions unless you show them who you really are.”

I sighed, weary of this conversation. “I’ve successfully led this company for the past fourteen years. Shouldn’t my record speak for itself?”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. Pierce was the fixer, and we needed to fix this. Before I lost control of the company I loved, the legacy my grandparents had built and entrusted to me.Fuck.

“Look, I get that it frustrates you that they focus on personal drama, but that’s what sells. It’s what humanizes people. Most people who read that magazine can’t imagine being a billionaire or running a luxury hotel empire. But they understand emotion. They are driven by it.”

“They are idiots. And my personal life isn’t up for consumption.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Pierce said. “Not all of it. But give them something to show your softer side. Hell, if they spoke to Brooklyn for even five minutes, they’d see how caring you are.”

“No.” My voice boomed through the cabin. My niece had to be protected at all costs. She already had to contend with the fact that her dad—my cousin Nate—was a famous actor/producer. And her new stepmom was a famous Olympian.

“It was just an example,” Pierce said. “I wasn’t actually suggesting it. I know better than that. But at this point, you’re going to have to do something drastic. Something that will put the board at ease and show the world that you’re not the man they claim you are.”

He arched one eyebrow, and I could read so much into that one simple gesture. Because there was only one thing I could think of that would accomplish all of that.

I met his eyes, mindful of my words with Tabitha and Carson on board. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

Pierce inclined his head, and I let out a heavy sigh. Had it truly come to this?

“Sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reason. I thought you were an expert at that.” He gave me a pointed look that I ignored.

I hated to admit it, but I was feeling a bit desperate. And I no longer had the luxury of ruling out any ideas, even marriage. I might not have a formal merger offer in hand, but Moretti wasn’t fucking around. When he set his sights on a company, he would do whatever it took to make it his.

I understood why Pierce had suggested this. I could even see the benefit of such an arrangement. I just didn’t know if I could go through with it. Or if I did, if I’d be convincing.

But even if I agreed, who the hell would I marry? It wasn’t like I was in a relationship. I hadn’t been for a while. At least, nothing that had been serious enough to remotely consider marriage.

“I still think there has to be another way.” A plan that didn’t involve a sham of a marriage to a woman I didn’t care about.

I might be pissed about the article, but it irked me because they weren’t wrong. I was a cold, heartless billionaire. And a fake marriage wouldn’t change that.

CHAPTERTHREE

“Damn. They really are giving you the first-class treatment,” Jo said as we settled into the plush cocoon that was our seats.

I’d flown from France to New York, where I’d met up with my best friend, Josephine. Now, we were on a flight to Ixtapa, Mexico, to stay at the new Huxley Grand location.

Jo often accompanied me when I traveled for my blog. She had a popular YouStream channel where she posted about her life in a farmhouse in upstate New York. We’d been roommates in college and had been friends ever since.

A flight attendant appeared with two flutes of complimentary champagne.Good thing the Huxley is footing the bill.

The Huxley Grand was typically more generous than other brands I worked with, but this seemed exorbitant, even for them. I had a large following and was sought-after by luxury-travel companies, but I’d never given the Huxley brand glowing reviews. I’d been complimentary but honest. If I had suggestions—and I often did—I didn’t withhold them. I treated them just like any other brand; I had to. My integrity as a blogger was important to me. I knew how much my readers relied on me to give my honest opinion.

Jo gasped, then held up a pair of silk designer pajamas from the amenities kit. I laughed. I could only imagine what my family would have to say about our seating arrangement. I rolled my eyes. That wasn’t my concern. And for right now, I needed to focus on this trip. On my blog.

---