Page 217 of Boss of the Year
A contract dated and signed four months ago reveals lengthy terms of agreement between the two, explicitly outlining the terms of a fake relationship and public betrothal, right down to the number of events, public outings, and even types of displays of affection the couple was expected to enact together in order to convince everyone else of the veracity of their relationship.
The question everyone is asking now is: why?
That is possibly the only answernotavailable in the contract, but a connection between Black’s appointment this month and the end of the contract (set for two weeks after the next board meeting that would confirm him in his new position at the head of his family’s company) is too obvious to ignore.
Every scathing word was a slap across the face. I wanted to throw my phone away and retreat back to bed, but like I was frozen in place, I kept scrolling, forcing myself to read the rest.
At the end, there they were. Incriminating photographs of the document I’d signed [months] earlier — and the even more familiar pair of signatures scrawled across the bottom.
Simone Bishop
Brendan Black
If the headlines were slaps, our names was individual punches in the gut. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
This couldn’t be happening.Howhad those documents even gotten out? How were they on this site?
And honestly, didn’t the most widely-read newspaper in the country have more important things to report on? Was the authenticity of my impending nuptials really more important than the threat of world war and climate change and or reproductive rights? There was a war in the Ukraine, but don’t worry—we’re covering Brendan and Simone’s little ruse?
Another version of my headstone wrote itself:
Simone Bishop
Silly, stupid fool
What was I thinking, signing that contract? I couldn’t even get away with shoplifting a pack of gum at age ten—why did I think I was going to get away with being fake engaged to one of the most notorious men in the world?
Throwing the covers back and jumping to my feet, I threw my phone down and paced around my room, my head spinning, the sharp pang of regret stabbing at my heart. The fact that I knew without a doubt that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it now was excruciating to accept.
The truth was out there.
Yes, it was fake. Yes, I signed that ridiculous piece of paper agreeing to this fake engagement.
Yes, I did it all for the money.
But at this point, none of that mattered. Everything had changed drastically in the last four months. In fact, my entire life had been upended since I agreed to it all.
That stupid contract meant absolutely nothing to me now.
And yet here it was, upending everything all over again. How could this be happening?
Blinking hard, I desperately wished for it all to be a terrible nightmare, that I’d wake up any second and my secret with Brendan would be just that — a closely held secret.
But no. When I opened my eyes, the photo and headline shone brightly from the screen of my phone. And everyone else’s in the Western Hemisphere, apparently.
Somehow, despite my best efforts, it was popping up in the email account of every schmuck who paid $5.99 a month for a subscription, whether they cared about who Brendan Black was marrying or not.
Brendan.
Oh, God, what would he think?
Willing myself to take shuddering breaths, I tiptoed across my room, Reluctantly, I picked up my phone again and forced myself to read the entire article, albeit skimming it quickly. My stomach turned with each passing word.
Like a masochist, I clicked on another article. One that at least seemed to remember I did more than just serve drinks.
Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-Cake, Baker’sSham?
Well, well, well! Who says money can’t buy happiness? We’ve exposed a Black affair, indeed! Looks like maybe the love at first sight story was really just another fabricated lie to mend the tattered reputation of yet another Black family prodigy. Did Brenden Black fake an engagement to his new sweetheart, part-time waitress and amateur baker Simone Bishop, just so he could court votes from the board of directors of his family’s empire? The very same empire to which he was just so conveniently was recently appointed the interim CEO?
