Page 67 of Tangled Like Us
“You’re not dating him, Janie,” Maximoff says, shutting it down.
“Just date Moretti,” Oscar suggests so suddenly, and the roomexplodesin two exclamations:
“What?!”
“Oscar?!”
My big eyes have just popped out of my flushed face and rolled across the hardwood toward the source of my heat, shock, and all other tragically startled things.
Thatcher.
Thatcher.
Thatcher.
His name is a heartbeat in my head.
I look directly at him. He’s still beside the staircase, and I’m frozen on the other side of the room.
His forehead is creased, brows drawn together, and his strong gaze pierces me so deeply that I wonder…ishe actually considering this?
My mouth falls little by little, and my head tilts sideways off my neck.Does he want to do this?
His eyes detour to Banks.
My pulse has jumped on a trampoline, soared, and splattered on hard grass.
“Everyone, take a breath,” Akara says, then he turns to the most tactical bodyguard. “Explain, Oscar.”
Oscar crumples the chip bag in his hand. “I meantpretendto date. As in, just do it long enough that the unstable men outside can take a hint that she’s taken.”
Farrow lifts his brows at his friend. “You want Jane to pretend to date her bodyguard. Do you even know the consequences of that?”
“Not more than you would,” Oscar admits.
Jack slips a pen behind his ear. He always has one handy for note-taking. “From a public perception standpoint, you’re looking at two different headlines.” He picks up my black cat, old and wise Lady Macbeth. “It’ll be Heiress is Dating Her Bodyguard versus Heiress Seeks Rich Husband.”
Maximoff shakes his head, neck tensed. “Either way, there’ll be crowds. Christ, there might actually bemoreif she dates a bodyguard.”
We saw an exponential increase in fans outside the house after Maximoff and Farrow’s relationship went public. What they’ve experienced is a good basis for what would happen publicly if I dated Thatcher.
I clear my throat. “So there’d be no point to go forward with this.” I hope I don’t sound disappointed.
Oh my God, I can’t believe my stomach is sinking in actualdisappointmentright now.
Why do I even want to take this dramatic turn? Is it because I’m a Cobalt? I’m a part of the most tragically dramatic family.
Or maybe my curiosity has piqued and finally punctured the atmosphere. Dating my bodyguard would break down doors that have been cemented shut.
Pretenddating, of course.
“It’d help,” Oscar tells us. “It won’t clear out the crowds, but it’ll change the temperament of whoever surrounds Jane and the townhouse.”
“More hecklers,” Donnelly pipes in.
“More obsessive fans,” Banks adds, sticking a toothpick between his lips.
Farrow peels a piece of Winterfresh gum. “Not to mention drunk fucks screaming outside bedroom windows.”
