“Did we really have to meet here?” I ask, frowning.
“Is there a problem?” Caspian Tiddleswich replies.
We are in the same position as last night—me clinging to Gertrude, while he’s all long limbs and cheekbones in the gray chair, which is starting to look a bit like his throne—but at least I’m wearing real pants this time.
“No offense, but I don’t feel particularly comfortable being alone with a guy who may or may not want to murder me.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not planning to murder you. I would hire out for that, anyway.”
“That’s not very fucking comforting, you know!”
“Oh, do calm down,” he says with a sigh. “I’m certainly not here to offer comfort, but I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Then what are you here for? The delightful banter?”
“How much did you get for the picture?”
“Excuse me?”
“The picture you sold. I assume you fared well. Even my own team was thrilled to have a shot of me with a girlfriend. The press must have lapped at your hands.”
I stare at him for a moment. “Are...are you actually serious right now?” I ask, astonished. “I didn’t sell that picture, and I certainly didn’t take it. I know you’re not actually Poirot, but I was in the goddamn picture, and it’s not like I have magical camera powers or something. I thought maybe there were paparazzi outside.”
“I saw no paparazzi here last night.”
I throw up my hands. “Then I don’t know, but I didn’t take the stupid picture! You were literally standing right in front of me. Did you see me go all Mr. Fantastic and manage to stretch my arm across the room to take one with me in it?”
“Perhaps it was your brother?”
I glare at him. “Look, I’m trying to stay as civil as possible, but if you start accusing my family of things like this, we are going to fight, do you hear me? It’s bad enough you’ve decided I’m some criminal mastermind.”
“Of course you’re not,” he says calmly. “You’re just a desperate, money-hungry girl lacking the brains to pull off a quick scheme.”
I swallow the burn of tears that swims through my throat. “Well, I think you’re a pretentious, overly hyped prick with outrageous delusions of being far more important than you actually are.”
Caspian brushes a piece of invisible lint off his slacks, looking completely unperturbed. “Now that we’ve settled on that.”
I grab a pillow and slam it into my lap. If I have to punch something, I’ll probably do less jail time for the pillow. “Yes, let’s move on. What do you want? You organized this little meeting, after all.”
“Yes, I did.” He sits up straighter in his chair. “You’ve complicated my life a bit, Clara.”
“Yes, but the important thing is that you haven’t overreacted at all,” I snark.
The corner of his mouth twitches ever so slightly. “I’ve spent the day thinking how I could handle the situation. Obviously, I could go to the police.”
My heart skips in my chest. “Fine. Call the police, then. You’re a dick for believing what you do, but whatever.”
He gives me a pointed glance. “I’ve also entertained the possibility that you were genuine in your drunken and horribly misguided phone call.”
My mouth falls open in surprise. “Oh.”
“You could have made the situation considerably worse for me last night, and judging by the reactions from your brother and his companion, they had no ideas as to why I would be here—which leads me to believe they had no knowledge of what you’d discovered about my...history. When I left, I’d decided to just let it all lie.”
“I feel like you’re about to say ‘but.’”
“But...”
“Goddamn it.”
“That was before the picture of us landed on the front page of every gossip site this morning.”
“I didn’t do it,” I whine and throw my face into the pillow.
“I’m almost inclined to believe you,” he says. “But as I said, you’ve created complications for me, and as one good turn deserves another, I’ve thought of a way you can make it up to me.”
I sit back up and take a deep breath. “Fine. What?”
“I’m in the city doing a show, which I assume you know.”
“Actually, I didn’t. Because not everyone is obsessed with your greatness, Mr. Tiddleswich.”
He carries on as though he doesn’t hear me. “I’ll be finishing my run two weeks from now. The night before I head back to London, there will be a premiere for my new film.”
“Okay?” I shrug. “Good for you?”
“As I said, my management team tends to fret over my not being seen in a relationship with anyone, and they’ve been trying to orchestrate various scenarios for me to be coupled off.”
“That’s a weird thing to fret over.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I agree. But while it’s not my concern, it is tiresome for it to be thrust at me repeatedly. That’s where you’d come in.”
I blink at him. “I’m sorry—what?”
“You’d accompany me to various public places, a function or two. The press thinks you’re my girlfriend, and that we had a row last night. The plan would be to show us happily made up, doing things as a couple, until we unfortunately split up the night of the premiere before I return home.”
“You’re fucking kidding me right now.”
“Do we really need so much color?”
“Fuck, yes, we fucking do. You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious. This would appease my team, give the press something to titter about before the movie opens, and allow me to focus on finishing my show.”
My brain can’t begin to process what he’s suggesting. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? In real life, that’s a thing you’re asking me to do?”
“I considered hiring you for your cuddling services, but I think you’d overcharge me.”
My cheeks burn. I hate that he made me blush. “Why would you even want me to?” I blurt out. “You loathe me. And that’s a mutual feeling, I assure you.”
“This is merely a means to an end for me.” Then a small smile touches his lips. “Although, after the stress you’ve put me through, I’m a bit pleased at how miserable you’ll be. But if you’d prefer we dealt with the situation through legal channels, I’d find that entertaining as well.”
Until this moment, my thoughts have been swirling too fast for me to sort, but they quite suddenly stop. Like someone threw a box of puzzle pieces into the air and they land, perfectly positioned.
There’s not enough air in my lungs as I stammer, “You’re...you’re blackmailing me.”
He smiles. “You’re quite quick. Not as much fun on the other side of the table, is it?”
“Oh my god, I wasn’t trying to blackmail you, you absolute cock of a person!”
“I’m prepared to believe you any second now.”
“This is fucked up,” I snap. “And as much as the mere thought of you repulses me in a way I can’t accurately express with words, I’m sure there are dozens of star-humping groupies who would be happy to step in as your rent-a-date. Why not get one of them to do it? Isn’t that why jerks like you become actors in the first place?”
He releases a slow breath, and I see a muscle in his jaw working hard. I’m both terrified and annoyed beyond reason. “No,” he says, through nearly clenched teeth. “My career motivations were different. My private life is no one’s business, despite the media’s differing opinion on that subject.” He seems legitimately angry, but for the moment, that anger doesn’t seem to be directed at me. “So, no, I wouldn’t be comfortable attempting to find a random woman to fill the role.”
I scoff. I can’t help it. “But you have no problem forcing me to?”
For a split second, his determined stare almost breaks, but he regroups. I’ve never known someone to keep this level of eye contact for so long. It’s the most disconcerting part of the whole mess. “None of this would have been my first choice, either,” he offers. “But this didn’t originate with me, if you’ll recall.” Before I can pull in air for a verbal, and likely profane, rebuttal, he continues, “And I’m willing to bet the information I have on you is enough to ensure your discretion.”
I’m being forced to choose between my dignity or a felony record, and my brain can’t settle on one emotion.
I’m scared. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to make him disappear from my life.
I’m guilty. I made a mistake that I’m being punished for.
I’m on the edge of hysterics. The whole scenario is so surreal, and there’s no room for rationality.
I hug the pillow to my chest, holding it against me like armor. “What would I have to do?”
“Nothing untoward,” he says, far too calm for my liking. “We’d go through the public motions of dating, but nothing over the top. Go for coffee, have dinner, that sort of thing. You’d attend my show at least twice, and we’d be seen leaving together. You’d attend my premiere, and that night, we’ll be seen squabbling in public, leading to our inevitable breakup. Then I’ll go my way, you’ll go yours. Behind the scenes, we will continue our mutual disdain, as is our wont.”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t afford that stuff,” I tell him earnestly. “I really can’t. We aren’t all movie stars. And as much as I’m sure it will end up being less than the cost of a defense attorney, the fact that I’m living on a couch should make it pretty clear there’s no way in hell I can swing paying for any of the things you just mentioned.”
He stares at me for a moment, absentmindedly pressing his middle fingers to his thumbs. I’ve never felt more awkward.
“I’ll provide whatever is required during our time together.”
“No way,” I say, shaking my head with fervor. “Nope. Not a chance. I don’t want anything from you. Not even a damn cup of coffee.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, do calm down,” he retorts, rolling his eyes at me again. “I’m not speaking extravagances. Travel costs, meals, what have you. Quite plainly, you’ll be doing me a favor as well as atoning, so it’s not a hardship.”
I scowl at him. “And what kind of assurances do I have that if I do this, and make a complete fool of myself, then you won’t turn around and call the police on me anyway?”
“I could have my lawyer draft a contract if you’d prefer.”
“Oh Christ, no,” I sputter. “I don’t need you putting your ridiculous delusions about what you think happened down on paper. And I can’t afford my own lawyer to look it over to be sure I’m not getting screwed.”
“You’ll just have to take my word for it, then.”
“Because you seem like such a stand-up guy.”
He looks down at the floor. It’s the only time he’s broken direct eye contact for more than a second since he got here. “I am, actually. Well, I try to be.” He gathers his mood again and returns to staring. “When I’m not dealing with potential criminals, that is.”
My shoulders slump, and I wrestle with my thoughts, desperate to conjure up something, anything, to wriggle out of this. I come up empty. “I can’t believe you’re blackmailing me.”
He smiles. “Yes, but the important thing is that you haven’t overreacted at all.”