“You look incredibly handsome,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“And you look sun-kissed. Now, baby, were you out surfing without me?”
He grinned. “It’s spray tan. Don’t get me started. All I know is this publicity team had better be legitimately the best in the game and not some bullshit YouTube pranksters. I had to have my eyebrows done.”
“Two words: Brazilian wax. What exactly are they taking pictures of that my landing strip would’ve interfered with?” she hissed, and they both laughed.
They lounged on a tufted sofa in the recently staged sitting room as the photography assistant held a light meter to Brandon’s bronzed cheek for a reading. “Middle gray’s looking a little orange from here,” Marj teased, and Brandon leaned in as if threatening to kiss her. She drew back in mock horror and informed him that her delicate makeup was not made to withstand the pawing of uncultured brutes. The reporter, they saw, was tapping notes into a tablet.
“Just to get started off with introductions here, I’m Dayna Shaw, and I’ll be the one interviewing the pair of you. Your office has vetted the questions, and I had a rather lengthy discussion with your legal team earlier, so you can rest assure that you’ll be made comfortable.”
“Oh, Dayna, all that’s on my account. I’m nervous. It’s the first time I’ve ever been interviewed for anything but the senior profiles in my high school newspaper. I’m not used to all this attention,” Marj said as warmly as she could, playing the hometown girl card flawlessly.
“Indeed, Dayna, we’re confident in your reporting talents. I’m just being protective of my new bride. For such a gorgeous girl, she doesn’t have much confidence about public image.”
“Well, truth is I never had to have a public image before!” Marj said airily, “Although I see the benefit to it now, of course.”
“Before we get to that, give us an idea of how the two of you met,” Dayna prompted.
“She worked for me. I didn’t realize it then. Marjorie here was sent to Las Vegas as part of the marketing team set to spin the Power Regions takeover as a merger instead of, well, what it was. An acquisition. We were actually supposed to meet at the reception dinner at a wine bar in the resort, but I was held up on business, so I missed the dinner. We met up, as fate would have it, over drinks at a dance club in the hotel later that night. I was instantly drawn to her. She’s so open and warm and vivacious,” he smiled at her, then slipped his phone out of his pocket and read an email. Marj kept the benevolent smile on her face despite the desire to slap the phone out of his hand. He was actively talking to a reporter in a live interview and was checking his phone. It didn’t make him look like the devoted husband in the script. Marj smiled indulgently and took up the thread of the narrative.
“Who could possibly resist this man? I know I’ve been turning down guys in bars since college myself, and for the most part, they’re after one thing. But Brandon Cates—everything about him said that he didn’t belong at a casino dance club. If this face isn’t in an Armani ad—”
“Hugo Boss,” he corrected good-naturedly, and she smiled at him.
“Hugo Boss ad,” she amended, “then it belongs in a university library or a rare books shop. Far too intellectual to be rocking to Gaga late at night,” she said fondly, “but he hung around and bought me a drink, and we got to talking. We really hit it off.”
“I felt like I’d known her forever. She’s so authentic and true to herself. There’s not a deceitful bone in her body. I can’t explain it without sounding completely corny, but I knew deep down that Marj was the one for me. She’s the real thing,” he said, gripping her hand and then scanning his phone screen as surreptitiously as possible. Marj forced a smile.
“And there’s no one more dedicated than Brandon. Whether it’s his work or our relationship, he’s the most passionate, devoted man I’ve ever seen.”
“Does he remind you of your father?”
“Not precisely. My father is, of course, a fine man, but there’s never been anyone in my life quite like Brandon. He’s so strong and dependable, and I know I can count on him.”
“Couldn’t you count on your father growing up?”
“Sure, I have lots of great memories of my dad. But right now I hope you’re not offended—I’m most excited about my new husband. I’m sure dear old Dad will forgive me not making the interview about him,” she said lightly, wondering if it was appropriate to mention her father’s serial alcoholism and unemployment as endearing recollections.