Page 63 of Backed By You
“It didn’t seem relevant to the interview,” Callie replies coolly.
“Everything’s relevant in these situations,” he counters. “Makes me look like an ass.”
Monica, pretending not to eavesdrop while absorbing every word, chooses this moment to extend her hand to me, now standing beside Callie. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. Monica Chen.”
“Beau Montgomery,” I reply, taking her hand briefly.
“Bodyguard, right?” Her eyes are shrewd, assessing. “Or…more than security?”
Before I can respond, Ellen materializes between us. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we’re on a very tight schedule. Callie, we need to move to the next appointment.”
“Of course,” Callie says, moving smoothly to my side. “Monica, Jack, thank you both.”
Ellen efficiently leads us toward the exit, creating a buffer between Callie and any further questions. It’s only when we’re safely in the hallway, doors closed behind us, that Ellen lets out a long breath. “Well, that wasn’t in the talking points.”
“I’m sorry,” Callie says, glancing between her assistant and me. “It just came out.”
“Don’t apologize,” Ellen says. “It was authentic, and it completely redirected the Jack narrative that you’ve been trying to get away from foryears. ‘Reclusive director finds love in Montana’ is a much better headline than recycled on-set romance rumors.”
Callie looks at me, uncertainty in her eyes. “Are you okay with this? I didn’t mean to put you in the spotlight.”
I consider my answer carefully, aware of Ellen pretending to check her tablet while listening. “It’s not my world,” I admit. “But you are.”
The tension in Callie’s expression dissolves into a small, intimate smile.
Ellen clears her throat. “If you two are done being adorable, we do have a fitting to get to.”
As we walk down the hallway, Callie’s hand stays firmly in mine. I’m hyperaware of the curious glances from staff and guests. In Montana, she’s just Callie, the new girl in town renting a cabin on the mountain. Here, she’s someone people recognize, someone they whisper about as we pass.
Outside in the California sunshine, I realize something. I may hate the cameras, the invasive questions, the Jack Turners ofthis world with their easy smiles and wandering hands—but Callie?
I love her.
Twenty-Three.
Callie
“Ican’tbelieveyousaid that,” Shea gasps, staring at her phone with rapt attention as the interview plays a second time. It’s been uploaded for all of thirty minutes and several entertainment news outlets have already picked up the story as if it were their own. “Jack lookspissed.”
Beau snorts from his spot on the sofa in our hotel room, watching with smug appreciation as Shea’s fashion intern helps me into my dress for a final fitting.
I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs.
“It just came out,” I explain, raising my arms as the intern—a serious-faced girl named Maya—works on pinning the final adjustments to the sides of the gown. “Jack was being so…”
“Handsy?” Shea supplies. “Presumptuous? His usual self?”
“All of the above.” I rotate slowly as directed. The dusty pink fabric lined with sequins catches the light and glitters aroundus. “Monica wasn’t on the approved question list with that one. Ellen nearly had a stroke.”
“Well, this article is calling it ‘the most authentic moment in press junket history,’ so there’s that,” Shea says, still scrolling. “Oh, and People wants an exclusive on yourMontana romance—Ellen’s already fielding requests.”
I glance at Beau, trying to gauge his reaction. He seems unbothered, watching the proceedings with the same calm attentiveness he brings to everything. But there’s something in his eyes when they meet mine. Quiet pride, maybe?
“No exclusives,” I say firmly. “Our relationship isn’t a publicity stunt.”
“Smart,” Shea nods. “Keep them guessing. The mystery boyfriend angle will generate more buzz anyway.”
Beau raises a brow. “Mystery boyfriend?”
