“I’m sure they’ll pick the least favorable. They always make the best stories,” I muttered under my breath. I had a love-hate relationship with the press, especially after they ridiculed one of the outfits that I’d put together a few months ago and worn to a charity event: a flowy oversized blazer almost reaching my knees that was held together by a wide belt and micro-shorts plus a lace bralette beneath it. What had really set them off had been the checkered knee-socks matching the blazer that I’d combined with ridiculously high heels.
I’d felt a great amount of satisfaction when not long after the derogatory article, girls not only from our circle but socialites from Chicago as well had started wearing similar outfits to parties and public events.
Clifford cleared his throat at my badmouthing of the press and a tense pause ensued. Too many people were watching our interaction, analyzing every facial expression, trying to read from our lips. Clifford was a politician’s son. Pissing off the press probably was very high on his list of things to avoid. “A good love story sells too.”
I shrugged. It probably did, but I wasn’t sure we’d convince them our story was one of love. Maybe it was just my overthinking mind but I doubted anyone would see sparks flying between Clifford and me.
My gaze found Santino standing off to the side watching everything with a bored expression. Anyone who thought only girls could have a resting bitch face had never seen Santino. His constant pissed-off look was legendary.
“I’m used to attention but today I feel like a zoo animal,” I whispered.
Clifford nodded and smiled as if I’d said something nice. He knew how to play the game. I smiled in turn, even if I didn’t feel like it.
“How about we go somewhere more private?”
“I’d love to,” I said immediately, needing a breather.
Clifford lightly touched my shoulder as he steered me toward the door. I could see Santino watching us from across the room where he hovered behind Mom and Dad and chatting with one of the Clark’s bodyguards that he hadn’t offended yet.
We stepped into the lobby but even here a few people mingled to chat. We gave them smiles and I nodded toward the back. Clifford and I headed toward the kitchen, which of course was also crowded with staff. But the kitchen had access to a part of the garden that usually only staff used for their breaks. Now at the busiest time of the party, none of them were out there, so Clifford and I had some privacy as the door closed behind us. We settled on the chairs.
“So now we’re engaged,” Clifford said in disbelief.
“We are.”
Clifford pulled two cigarettes from the pocket in his pants and offered one to me, but I quickly shook my head. Even if staff was currently too busy for a break, they might poke their head out to check on us and I didn’t want them to see me smoking. This would undoubtedly reach my parents’ ears in record time and then I’d be in a whole world of trouble.
Clifford gave a knowing smile. “Keeping up appearances, I get it.” He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag.
“Let me take a quick pull,” I said.
He held out his cigarette to me and I took a deep drag before he put it back in his mouth. “Everyone probably thinks we’re exchanging spittle in a different way right now.”
“Would you prefer that?”
Clifford thought about that then shook his head. “Last time was a bit of a turn-off,” he said with a laugh.
“Santino won’t act like that again, especially at our engagement party.”
“I’m seeing someone anyway, so I can’t kiss anyone else.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’re dating someone.” I’d taken sleeping around into consideration but a relationship? That really posed the risk of Clifford going into our marriage in love with someone else. The odds definitely wouldn’t be in our favor then.
“Not dating. We’re friends with benefits, but we agreed to be exclusive for the time being.”
I pursed my lips. My experiences with relationships were limited but this sounded like dating, even if they didn’t call it by that name. A rose by another name is still a rose, right? “So you’re getting along well, have sex, and are faithful to each other… that’s dating where I come from.”
“Does anyone in your world really date?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Like I said we both don’t want a relationship.”
“Does she know about me? It’ll be all over the news tomorrow.”
“She knows.”
“You didn’t tell her about the deal, right?” That was top secret after all.
“No, I told her we’re in an open relationship because we know we’re too young to commit fully but so madly in love that we know we’re endgame.”
I snorted, couldn’t help it. “I hope this doesn’t backfire and you’ll be heartbroken when you have to marry me and are in love with your friend with benefits.”