Page 130 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
I straighten my spine, gulping. “I will.”
“Good. What we need to do is combat these images by making sure you’re seen with a very good boy.”
That sounds smart. “A new man will definitely hit ‘reset’ for the press. You want me to find a clean-cut fella and go on a few dates?”
She scoffs. “Oh no. You don’t need to find someone. Wehavesomeone. A very appropriate fake boyfriend for galas and fetes, for couple-y dates, and for various public events.”
That’s a huge relief. I breathe a happy sigh. “Brilliant. I can do that no problem.” I rub my hands, so damn ready to tackle this simple challenge. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“More like unlucky. Evidently, he quite needs a boyfriend too,” she says with a sympathetic sigh.
I laugh, commiserating in advance. “What did the bloke do to mess up his life?”
“I’ll let him explain when you meet him. Though ‘meet’ isn’t exactly the right word.” She picks up her cup and drains the last of her tea, then gestures to the door, leaving a tip on the table as she stands. Time to walk and talk. “You already know him,” she tells me as we take off.
We round the corner on the way to her building, and I make a wiggling motion with my fingers. “Tell me who he is. I can’t wait to charm him for the cameras.”
“One of our other clients. We look out for our own. His name is TJ Hardman.”
I nearly stop in my tracks, but that might reveal too much.
Like, say, the fact that I’d been falling madly in love with TJ when I fucked it all up. That he was a funny, clever, vulnerable man who made me feel like I was the only one.
What an idiot I was.
As I walk with Holly, I replay that day in Venice. I wish I’d thought before I accused him of coming to LA to steal a deal out from under me. I wish I’d taken a fucking breath before I suggested he used me. I tried, though, to say I was sorry, but it was too late. TJ still left.
“TJ Hardman the author?” I ask evenly, giving nothing away since Holly doesn’t know we were involved. “Or perhaps is there a Troy Jett Hardman somewhere?”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if his initials stood for that? But I’ve no idea what they stand for.”
I do.
“I bet they stand for Thomas John,” she continues as we sweep inside the building. “In any case, he’s also in a bit of a pickle.”
If he’s involved with another guy, I will lose it. I clench my fists. “Does he have inappropriate pictures out there too?”
Say no. Please say no.
“That’s not his issue at all.” But she doesn’t say what his problem is as we step into a waiting lift.
“But he needs a fake boyfriend, and I have to pretend I like him?” I want to make sure I understand the role completely.
“No,” she says as if that’s crazy.
“Thank God.” I breathe a huge sigh of relief as we shoot up ten stories. “For a moment there, I thought you were serious.”
Holly flashes me a confused look as we exit on the eleventh floor. “I am serious. And I am intensely serious when I say I don’t want you to pretend to like him. I want you to convince the whole fucking world that you’re madly in love with him.”
Evidently, wrecking balls come in pairs—this second one of the day slams into my gut.
I’ll have to pretend I’m in love with the man who destroyed my heart.
Though I can only imagine how TJ will feel when he sees photos of me wrapped up with William.
When I look down the hall, I don’t have to wonder how TJ feels.
He’s headed my way right now, and I can see for myself. He hates me.