Page 16 of PR Stunt

I exhale, sinking deeper into the cushions, the edge of my wineglass resting at my chin as I stare straight ahead. If this backfires, it’s not just headlines. It’s everything I’ve built, unraveling in real time.

“Fine.”

Both their heads whip toward me.

I roll my eyes. “I’ll do it. Two months, max. And with a very detailed contract so I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”

Anna wastes no time, already shifting back into agent mode. “Good. I’ll get everything in motion. We’ll have a meeting tomorrow with Miranda and Grayson to go over details.” She stands, smoothing out her blazer like she didn’t just completely flip my life upside down. “I’ll text you the time.”

Juno stretches and then glances at the sushi carnage on the table. “Want help cleaning this up?”

I shake my head. “Nah, it’s fine. Sushi’s on me next time.”

Juno grins. “Love ya!”

“Thanks for coming, you traitor.”

She hugs me, still grinning, and grabs her bag. Anna’s already halfway out the door.

I take a few minutes to tidy the living room, tossing containers and rinsing the glasses, and then turn off the fireplace. Then I head upstairs. The moment my head hits the pillow, I’m out.

It’s been a day.

Chapter 8

“He’s late,” I say, my legs bouncing as I sit in the conference room at Miranda’s agency. It’s a sleek, glass-walled space at the top of a downtown office building overlooking l.a. Bright, modern and, more importantly, away from prying eyes.

Anna glances over at me from my left, amusement flashing across her face.

“He still has four minutes, Char.”

I roll my shoulders and smooth invisible lint from the sleeve of my black blazer, tightening my ponytail as if that alone can steady me. This meeting is strictly business, and I intend to treat it that way. Which makes it all the more surreal that I agreed to a pr relationship with Grayson Cole in the first place.

Adjacent to me, Miranda watches with quiet interest. I offer her a small, apologetic smile. I’m probably making a terrible second impression, but I’m barely holding on here. This is uncharted territory.

My eyes dart to the clock. I exhale sharply, patience wearing thin. “If he’s not here within the next minute, I’m—”

The glass door swings open. “You’ll what, Charlie? Volunteer me for another race?”

Grayson walks in, wearing a black cap, navy jacket, white t-shirt, jeans, and boots that have seen better nights. Quickly looking away, I reach for the water carafe in the middle of the table and pour myself a glass, chugging half of it. They really make these meeting rooms too hot. Grayson leans down, pressing a brief kiss to Miranda’s cheek before sliding into the seat directly across from me.

I steal a quick glance at him, only to find his eyes already on me. His gaze pins me in place, a challenge mixed with amusement. In the daylight, I get a better look at his eyes—blue with a pale, icy center and a darker ring around the edge. The contrast makes me catch my breath.

He stretches his left arm across the back of the chair beside him and extends both legs straight under the table. His foot brushes against my heel, just lightly enough to send a spark of awareness up my spine. I jerk my foot away, pressing it firmly against the floor.

Anna clears her throat, and I immediately straighten, suddenly remembering we have an audience. Why does that keep happening? Focus, Charlie.

“Okay, let’s begin.” Anna flips open the folder in front of her and slides a printed contract across the table. “This outlines the full scope of the arrangement. Key appearances, expected social media engagement, and general conduct expectations. We’ll go through the details, but to be clear, this is a mutually beneficial partnership. You both need to be on the same page about what’s expected.”

She glances between us and then adds, “And ideally, no stepping on each other’s toes—literally or figuratively.”

I groan inwardly.

Miranda’s gaze moves between us. “This isn’t just about showing up together and smiling for the cameras. If we’re doing this, it needs to feel real. That means consistency. Coordinated social media presence, well-timed appearances, and above all, no missteps that could make this look forced or disingenuous.”

She shifts her attention to Grayson, her expression accusing. “That means no last-minute backing out, no headlines that contradict what we’re trying to sell, and no reckless behavior that could make her or this look like a joke.”

Then her gaze focuses on me. “And Charlie, I assume you know what’s at stake here. This arrangement isn’t just for pr. It’s a business move that will benefit both of you, provided you two play it right.”