Page 115 of The Americana Playbook

And that visit, she’ll see, was meaningful.

For a moment, Parker says nothing. It might be meaningful in theory, but maybe I’ve crossed a line.

“We don’t have to?—"

“No.” Parker nods. “Let’s go.”

Our hold on each other is broken only by the sound of the buzzer outside our suite.

Parker twists out of my hold. “I ordered breakfast.”

I continue to grin like an idiot as she steps out of the bedroom and I move to get dressed. My phone rings from its spot on the mound of twisted sheets. I squeeze my eyes shut when I see Nick’s name on the screen before answering.

“Did you just leave a fancy engagement party at theWhite Houseand fly to Vegas for a White Chapel wedding where she walked down the aisle wearing yourjersey?”

I shift my jaw from side to side. “Yes.”

“Did you want?—”

I hold up my hand and mouthNickto Parker, who appears at the door. She nods and shuts it, but for good measure, I go into the bathroom.

“I see,” Nick says. “You know, Fitz, I’ve had this whole thing in my head—a White House wedding. You two kissing with the American flag blowing somewhere off in the background. The whole shebang. But in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t top this one.”

“So, you’re not upset.”

“Upset?” Nick asks. “No. Not at all. If anything, this takes the attention off you and Foller sooner. Fitz, you just became the son-in-law of the President of the United States after eloping in Vegas.” He gasps loudly. “God, people are going tolovethis.”

I blow out a deep breath. “Well, something tells me, as of this morning, I’m probably his least favorite person, son-in-law or not.”

“Yeah, but he can’t hate you publicly,” Nick reminds me. “That’s all we care about.”

It only matters how it looks.

Nick continues, “Well, that and making Heath and company happy. And trust me, I haven’t talked to anyone from the office yet, but I’m telling you now—this stunt? It’s going to make them really fucking happy. The camera catching her smiling in the suites at every game? Ratings will fly through the roof.”

I grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady myself against the wave of nausea brewing in my gut. Guilt. I can taste it. I’m guilty. Because aren’t I about to do the same exact thing to Parker that her family is trying to do? The context might be different, but that’s it. I’m using her to put on a show—for my team, for the League, for all of football. And even though that’s what we agreed to, I suddenly feel so overwhelmingly aware of it, and I don’t want it anymore.

“She isn’t my wife to make other people happy.”

“Um, you should’ve thought about that before. If you had, I would’ve just set you up with someone who already loves being in front of the camera. You could’ve fake dated anyone.” Nick reminds me. “It didn’t have to be her.”

“You’re right. I could’ve dated anyone. But I chose to marry Parker. And we do whatshe’scomfortable with, not what everyone wants.”

He continues, “If you’re… God, I knew it. I knew this would happen.”

“You knew what would happen?” I ask.

Nick groans. “This isn’t going to end well, Fitz. I knew it.”

“It won’t end because it’s real, Nick. All of it. The marriage”—I correct myself—“the relationship… nothing fake about it. You need to respect that. I won’t have her do anything she’s not comfortable with.”

I have no idea what will happen after the convention, but no matter what does, I’m going to protect Parker, her privacy, and her needs. And I’m going to start laying the foundation for that now even if that means fibbing to Nick.

“So you told her?” Nick asks. “You told her everything?”

“Everything.”

“What did she think about the tattoo?”

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