Page 33 of Arranged To Be Mine

The words stung, cutting deep. All the air left my lungs at once.

“You don’t mean that,” I said quietly.

“I’m not sure what I mean right now.” He shook his head, paced a few steps, and then turned back to me. “I trusted you to handle this professionally. I trusted Blackwell to help you, not to complicate things further.”

A knock sounded at the door. Before either of us could respond, it swung open and Beau’s head appeared, that infuriating grin already in place.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Yes,” Dad snapped.

“Good,” Beau said cheerfully.

He walked into my office cool as a cucumber wearing another slim-fit designer suit that showed off his perfect body. I still hated how good he looked.

Dad rounded on him immediately. “I hired you to polish her image, not play tonsil hockey with her!”

I wanted to die. Actually cease to exist right there in my office chair.

Beau didn’t even flinch. “It’s just business, Mr. Corwin.”

“Business?” Dad’s voice rose. “Kissing my daughter is business?”

“The kiss was a tactical decision,” Beau said calmly. He pulled out his phone. “And it worked. Look at this press.”

He moved closer to Dad, showing him the screen. I couldn’t see what was on it from where I sat, but I watched Dad’s expression shift from furious to confused to something that might have been pleasant surprise.

“Ice queen to nice queen,” Beau read aloud. “She donated generously to charity, but the big news is seeing her on the arm of notorious bachelor, Beau Blackwell. It seems she might believe in love after all.”

“That’s an actual headline?” I asked.

“Yep. Well, he first part.” Beau swiped his finger across the screen, giving my dad a second to read before sliding again.

I intentionally hadn’t looked. I wasn’t prepared to see any additional memes about myself.

“She looks good, right?” Beau said.

My father pinned him with a withering look.

Beau laughed. “It’s a huge improvement from the other pictures. Now, these are going to be the ones all over the internet when someone Googles her name.”

“I don’t think your face pushed against hers is the fix you think it is,” Dad muttered.

“This is exactly what you needed,” Beau continued. “The narrative has completely shifted. She’s not the cold, unfeeling CEO anymore. She’s a woman who gets swept up in romance at charity galas. She’s human. She’s relatable. She’s warm.”

Dad stared at the phone for a long moment. I held my breath, waiting.

“I still don’t like it,” he finally said, but the fire had gone out of his voice. He looked at Beau, then at me, then back to Beau. “Don’t make me regret hiring you, Blackwell.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir. You’re witnessing just how good I am. That’s why you came to me. I know how to do this.”

“Still don’t like it.” Dad walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. He looked back at me, resigned. “We’ll talk later.”

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

I let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

Beau turned to face me, pocketing his phone. “For what?”