“Good. Take care of it. The ring will be in your office in less than an hour then you can make the announcement.”
She could tell by the way he was sitting, looking at her, that she was dismissed. “As proposals go,” she said, unable to resist, “that one ranks right up there with a ring in the food.”
“I thought women liked that,” he said, his slightly amused.
“No. It gets the ring messy and if you don’t find it you might break a tooth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind should I ever stage a real proposal.”
“Do you actually plan on doing that?” she asked, not able to picture it.
“I don’t plan to, no.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“What about you? You’re impervious to wedding bells, so you say, but do you have a boyfriend you’re going to have to explain this to?”
“No. And even if I did, I told you when you hired me, work comes first. I was serious.”
“You would ditch your boyfriend to further your career?”
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same to any of your past lovers.”
“Of course I would. But most women don’t see things that way.”
“I’ll ignore the most comment for now and just say, then maybe some women don’t have a problem with someone else having so much control over their life, but I do. My career is important to me. It comes first. If I was with someone, he would have to understand that.”
“No man is going to understand you playing fiancée to someone else.”
“Then I guess there isn’t a right man for me,” she said, smiling tightly. “Not in a permanent sense anyway.” She couldn’t resist adding it, because the last thing she wanted was to betray the fact that she didn’t do relationships of any sort, at all, full stop, ever. And why should it matter if Gage knew? She didn’t usually worry about it at all. In fact, she was extremely secure in her antirelationship status.
“I don’t see there being a right woman for me in that way, either. Which, ironically, makes us perfectly compatible.”
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose, ironically, that’s very true.”
“Now go, prepare a statement. We’ll make a formal announcement this morning. Start calling media outlets and let them know we have a story. The more of them we can distract the better.”
She nodded once. She could do this. It was her job. That was all. It was only business, nothing more, there was no reason why it would feel like anything else.
She clenched her hands into fists, trying not to imagine what the weight of the ring would feel like, then turned and went back to her office.
The frenetic energy of a press conference was usually something Lily thrived on. She loved everything about them. The noise, the chaos, the low hum of excitement that pulsed through the crowd. She was never nervous. She always knew just what she was going to say, or what her client was going to say.
But this morning, she felt as if she was going to throw up.
Gage took her hand and a flash of heat raced up through her fingers and into her whole body, warming her core, making her heart beat faster. She wished she could blame that on the press conference, but she couldn’t. Gage had an unexpected, unaccountable effect on her body. One that made her feel like she was out of control, which she hated more than anything.
He tugged on her lightly and led her up the stairs and to the podium. Gage held her hand up and moved it out toward the light so that the massive ring, which she had placed on her own finger only a few minutes earlier, caught the light. The noise in the crowd quieted, everyone staring at them, their eyes expectant, hungry for a story.
“Thank you all for coming this morning,” Gage said, lowering their hands. “Before any rumors started flying, we wanted to make a formal announcement. I’ve asked my public relations specialist, Lily Ford, to marry me and she’s accepted.”
Then, like an invisible barrier was broken, flashes from cameras went off and questions started flying at them from all directions.
“Mr. Forrester, is this in any way related to the news story about your sister this morning?”
She could feel Gage tense, his hand squeezing hers tightly. Reflexively, she reached over with her other hand and traced her fingers lightly over his knuckles.
“We are not discussing my sister or the blatant untruths that were printed about her, any more questions along that line and we’re finished here.”
The sound of his voice acted like a high beam in the fog of her brain. She jerked her hand away from his, horrified that she’d touched him like that. Like she had permission to do it, like it was natural.