Page 54 of Faking the Pass
If I married Presley, then naturally I wouldn’t have to live with Randy or evenseehim apart from my contracted public appearances to promote the movie.
That was if he didn’t scrap the whole thing and reshoot it with another actress, which he might.
Thinking of his vindictive nature, I started to feel a tiny sense of relief.
Having to marry Randy and live under his roof for the next year might have just killed me.
Pretending to be in love with Presley Lowe for the next few months would be a breeze by comparison.
Maybe even too easy.
Chapter 13
Earning Her Keep
Presley
Rosie and I left the mansion together as cameras clicked all around us.
She still looked a little shell-shocked. Hell, I was sort of stunned myself.
I hadn’t come here today with the intention of getting engaged.
When that asshole had tried to claim her as his fiancée, even after all he’d done, something in me had just snapped.
Going with my gut had always served me well on the field, and I had no doubt it would be the same in this situation.
The plan really was an inspired one. If we were married, we couldn’t be compelled to testify against each other in the case Randy actually did pursue it in court.
I could rid myself of the constant pursuit of groupies and avoid the complications that came with having a real relationship. I’d be able to focus on my recovery and getting back on the field as soon as possible.
Rosie would look like a desirable, hotly pursued woman instead of a sad jilted bride. And hopefully the media wouldforget all about the disastrous near-miss marriage she was worried made her look foolish and focus instead on the sappy little high school sweethearts reunion story we’d hand them.
Hopefully it would help her career in some way. And Rosie would be safe from Randy, at least physically.
I owed her that much after how badly I’d behaved in high school.
“Are you dating?” one of the Hollywood press members called out to us.
“How long have you known each other, Presley?” another one shouted.
I just smiled, and when I saw Rosie staring at the ground, urged her to smile, too.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” I said in a voice too low to be heard by the others. “Don’t act guilty. Smile and wave.”
She took my advice, lifting her head and giving the cameras a smile and a wave before climbing into the car through the door I’d opened for her. I slowly walked around to my side and got in, nodding to the cameras that followed my every move.
As we drove away together, both of us smiled at the media through the windows.
The ruse had begun.
“Now they’redyingto get our story,” I said.
Rosie looked at the rearview mirror, at the cars following us, and winced. “I amsosorry. You value your privacy so much. Now your life’s going to be bananas, too.”
“Nah. Don’t apologize. Like I said, it’s a win-win. Plus, they’ll get tired of us pretty quickly,” I told her. “A boring old ‘married couple’ isn’t going to hold the attention of the tabloid press for long.”
She nodded. “You’re right. There’s no scandal in that. So what’s the story? You came to my rescue after I ran away from my wedding, and then we… fell in love?”
