Accidentally Married to the Billionaire 3(14)
“But I love you, and it isn’t a fake marriage, Brandon!”
“But it was—it was fake to start with, and I’m not sure how to convince anyone, much less all of our stockholders, that it wasn’t a blatant manipulation to meet the terms of the will.”
“Of course it was a manipulation, but now it’s real!”
“Who would ever believe it? Once you’ve admitted you’re a liar, it’s rather hard to win back the public trust.”
“While I see your point, companies have got away with it for years. We’re talking widescale damage from product use, which isn’t even a consideration but corporations have come back from that. There’s still Bridgestone Firestone tires. Nestle still sells baby formula. Scandals come and go and the bottom line survives.”
“Unless the brand reverts to the Wicked Queen.”
“That won’t happen. I have faith in us and in our ability to convince people that we’re for real. They’ll be able to see that we care for each other, and we have chemistry—hot chemistry!”
“You think people can tell? People are so gullible, Marj. You’re in marketing, you know that! They believe what the facts are engineered to make them believe. It’s all in packaging.”
“Then we sell them the fairy tale. We make the package palatable.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“An exclusive interview. One of those glamorous magazines—Bazaar or the architectural ones, something smart and upper crust to show off your killer house and our hot marriage. Get someone to book us a photo shoot. We’ll be adorable.”
“You would do an interview?”
“Absolutely. I mean, let’s have a little perspective here. If I’d marry a complete stranger to thwart Lena Cates, why wouldn’t I let someone come take my picture for a few hours and ask me questions? I mean, I stood before Elvis for you!” she said with perfect seriousness.
“You are an absolute genius. I think an interview would be the perfect response.”
“First, let’s enjoy Mexico. We can blast the haters when we get back home,” she said, “first things first.”
“I understand that you’d prefer pleasure before business and I would rather focus on that myself. But the damage will already be done by the time we return. The fact remains that our stockholders and board of directors, not to mention the Wicked Queen herself, will be devouring every lurid detail from all the media outlets. We have to counter it. There’s no choice in the matter, no delay.”
“So call now, book an interview. Issue a press release about our romantic getaway and our desire for privacy.”
“Asking for privacy is like what celebrities do when they want to breakup without photographers, right?”
“No, a request for privacy, while not often respected by the press, is simply a leave us alone statement.”
“If, as you say, it’s rarely effective, why bother?”
“Because it’s a response to the outcry. It shows we’re listening, and we take umbrage at the allegations laid at our feet.”
“Umbrage? Did my Las Vegas bride just say umbrage?”
“Indeed, I did. Just because I drank a little more than I should and slurred my vows in front of an Elvis impersonator gives you no license to criticize my vocabulary.”
“I’m impressed. You take me by surprise yet again, Marjorie Cates. Umbrage, then, if you will. I’ll email the publicist demanding both a privacy/umbrage press release and a forthcoming interview in the haughtiest magazine possible.”
“And that our interview fee is both astronomical and to be donated directly to a charity,” she said smoothly.
“Adds a nice altruistic flair,” he said approvingly as he dictated the email to his phone and sent it.
“I do like you signing off with Emphatically, Mr. and Mrs. Cates. Sounds so official…so decisive.”
“Turns you on a little?”
“Maybe,” she said mischievously.
“I suspect you’re right, that the publicity team can get this under control. Shall we stroll on the beach and be photogenic and adorable? Maybe share a few snaps on social media?”
“Sounds like a plan, husband,” she said, digging in her suitcase for a sundress.
As they walked on the beach, snapping selfies and kicking up their bare feet in the waves, Brandon fielded more phone calls. He dispatched Chester, his trusted valet, to interview all of the household staff and drivers and look into their recent bank records and credit card statements to determine who was on the take and who could possibly retain credibility. The publicity team, then the lawyer again. Marj seized his free hand and dragged him further out into the water, up to their knees, so the soaked fabric of their clothing clung to their legs. She kissed him, adamant that he would eventually give up on the phone call if she used her lips and tongue to best advantage. At last, he conceded, tucking the phone into his pocket and framing her face with his hands to kiss her more deeply. Her toes curled in the wet sand under the onslaught of his clever tongue.