THE VALENTINE PROPOSAL

Chapter14 I love you

LIORA

Sunday morning I woke up to my phone ringing. Unknown number. I almost didn't answer.

"Hello?"

"Liora Jovan?" A woman's voice. Professional. "This is Rebecca Chen from People magazine. I'm writing a piece about you and Everett Montague. Do you have time for a few questions?"

"No. Sorry." I hung up.

It rang again immediately. Different number.

"Miss Jovan, this is David Park from Entertainment Weekly-"

I hung up and turned off my phone.

Margaret knocked on my door. "The press wants interviews. About the gala. About your relationship. Mr. Montague's publicist is handling it but they thought you should know."

"Tell them no comment."

"They're offering money. Substantial amounts for exclusive interviews."

I thought about my student loans. About how much money substantial meant. "Still no."

Margaret nodded. "I'll let them know."

I got dressed and went to the kitchen. Everett was already there reading something on his tablet. He looked tired.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Ramsey leaked something to the press. About the engagement being fake." He showed me the tablet.

The headline read: Source Claims Montague Engagement is Publicity Stunt.

My stomach dropped. "What source?"

"They won't say. But someone told them we have a contract. That we're not really engaged." He set down the tablet. "It's vague enough that people think it's just gossip. But if they get actual proof-"

"We're screwed."

"Yeah."

I sat down. "What do we do?"

"We ignore it. Most celebrity gossip is fake anyway. People won't believe it unless someone provides evidence." He looked at me. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then we're probably fine. Only four people know the truth. You, me, Margaret, and my lawyer."

"And whoever leaked it to Ramsey."

Everett's face went dark. "I'm handling that."

I made coffee. I tried not to panic. This was supposed to be simple. Three months of pretending. Then we'd quietly break up and move on with our lives.

But nothing about this was simple anymore.

"My mom wants to have lunch," Everett said. "The three of us. Today if possible."

"Why?"

"She wants to get to know you better. Her words." He rubbed his face. "We can say no if you want."

I wanted to say no. But some part of me wanted Nuala to like me. To approve of me. Even though I knew it didn't matter because this whole thing was fake.

Except it wasn't fake anymore. At least not for me.

"Okay," I said. "Let's do lunch."

We met Nuala at some French restaurant. She was already seated when we arrived. She hugged Everett then hugged me.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she said. "Sit, sit."

We ordered food I couldn't pronounce. Nuala asked me questions about work. About the campaign launch. About my family.

"My dad lives in Ohio," I said. "He's a mechanic. Works on cars."

"How lovely," Nuala said. But I could tell she was trying to figure out how a mechanic's daughter ended up engaged to her son.

"Tell me about growing up with Everett," I said. Changing the subject. "What was he like as a kid?"

Nuala's face softened. "Serious. Even as a little boy he was so serious. Always reading. Always planning." She touched Everett's hand. "After the divorce he got worse. He stopped being a child and became a tiny adult overnight."

"Mom-"

"It's true." She looked at me. "I failed him. The divorce, the way Zyler and I handled it, we broke something in him."

"You didn't break me," Everett said quietly.

"Didn't I?" Nuala's eyes were sad. "You don't trust anyone. You don't let anyone close. You built walls so high I wasn't sure anyone could ever climb them."

She looked at me. "But then you came along. And something changed. Those walls started cracking."

My throat felt tight. "Mrs. Montague-"

"Nuala. Please." She squeezed my hand. "I was wrong about you. Wrong to judge you. You're good for my son."

Lunch continued. We talked about safer topics. The gala. The campaign. Plans for the holidays.

But I kept thinking about what Nuala said. About Everett's walls. About me cracking them.

Was I? Or was I just fooling myself?

After lunch Everett drove us home. He was quiet. Thinking about something.

"Your mom is nice," I said.

"She feels guilty. About the divorce. About Claire. About pushing me toward Diella." He turned onto our street. "She's trying to make up for it now."

"Is it working?"

"Maybe. I don't know." He pulled into the garage. "She was right about one thing though."

"What?"

"The walls." He turned off the car and looked at me. "I do have walls. Huge ones. And you're definitely cracking them."

"Is that bad?"

"I don't know yet." He got out of the car.

We went upstairs. I was heading to my room when Everett called my name.

"Liora. Wait."

I turned around. He was standing in the hallway. Looking nervous. Everett never looked nervous.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" he asked. "We could order dinner. Just hang out."

"Like a date?"

"Like hanging out. As friends. Who are fake engaged. But maybe not so fake anymore." He ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry. I'm not good at this."

I smiled. "A movie sounds good."

We ordered Thai food. Put on some action movie neither of us really watched. Sat on the couch with space between us.

Halfway through the movie I moved closer. Rested my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around me.

We fell asleep like that. Curled up together on the couch. The movie playing to an empty room.

I woke up to my phone buzzing. I'd turned it back on at some point. Messages were flooding in.

I opened i********:. My heart stopped.

Someone had posted photos of Everett and me. Not from the gala. From before. From the lobby the day I proposed.

The caption read: The Truth About the Montague Engagement.

There were screenshots too. Of the contract. Not the whole thing. Just enough to show it was real. To prove we'd signed an agreement to fake an engagement for three months.

Comments were already coming in.

I knew it was fake!

She IS a gold digger. This proves it.

Everett Montague is a liar.

Feel bad for her. She got used.

My hands shook. "Everett. Wake up."

He opened his eyes. Looked at my phone. His face went pale.

"Who did this?" I asked. My voice was shaking. "Who leaked the contract?"

"I don't know." He grabbed his own phone. Started making calls.

I kept reading comments. Watching the story spread. Within an hour it was on every gossip site. Every news outlet.

Billionaire's Fake Engagement Exposed.

Montague and Jovan Signed Contract for Publicity Stunt.

Was Any of It Real?

My phone rang. My dad. I couldn't answer. What would I even say?

Everett was pacing. Yelling at someone on the phone. "Find out who leaked it. I want names. I want them now."

He hung up. Looked at me. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For this. For dragging you into my mess. For-"

"Stop." I stood up. "We did this together. It's both our mess."

"The board is going to lose their minds. They'll probably fire you."

"Let them try." I was angry now. Not sad. Angry. "I earned my spot. I proved I'm good at my job. They can't fire me for my personal life."

"You don't know my father. He'll find a way."

My phone rang again. Unknown number. I answered without thinking.

"Liora Jovan?" A man's voice. "This is Thomas Martinez from the New York Times. I'm writing a piece about the contract leak. Would you like to comment?"

"How did you get this number?"

"A source provided it. Along with quite a bit of other information." He paused. "I think you'll want to hear what else they told us."

"What else?"

"About Everett Montague's history. About what happened with Claire Morrison. About a pattern of using women and discarding them."

My blood went cold. "That's not true."

"So you're denying the contract exists?"

"I'm denying that Everett uses people. And I'm hanging up now."

I ended the call. Blocked the number.

"What did they say?" Everett asked.

"They're digging into Claire. Making it sound like you have a pattern of fake relationships."

Everett sank onto the couch. Put his head in his hands. "This is exactly what Ramsey wanted. To destroy my credibility. Make me look like a manipulative liar."

I sat next to him. "We'll fix this."

"How?"

"I don't know. But we will." I took his hand. "Together."

He looked at me. Really looked at me. "Why are you still here? You could leave right now. Tell everyone I forced you into this. Save yourself."

"Because I don't want to leave."

"Even though this might destroy your career? Your reputation? Everything you worked for?"

"Even though." I squeezed his hand. "I told you. I'm not Claire. I'm not your mother. I don't run when things get hard."

Something broke in his face. He pulled me into his arms. Held me so tight I could barely breathe.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered into my hair.

"Probably not." I pulled back to look at him. "But you're stuck with me anyway."

He kissed me. Hard and desperate. Like he was afraid I'd disappear if he let go.

I kissed him back. Poured everything I couldn't say into it. All my fear and hope and love.

Love. I loved him. When did that happen?

We broke apart. Both breathing hard.

"We should make a statement," Everett said. "Tell our side of the story."

"What is our side?"

"The truth." He touched my face. "That it started fake but became real. That I'm in love with you."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"I'm in love with you." He said it again. Clearer this time. "I didn't mean to be. I tried not to be. But I am."

Tears filled my eyes. "You're just saying that because of the leak. Because you're panicking."

"I'm saying it because it's true." He wiped my tears away. "I love you, Liora. I think I have for weeks. I was just too scared to admit it."

"I love you too," I whispered. "I'm terrified and it might be a disaster but I love you."

He kissed me again. Softer this time. Like we had all the time in the world.

We didn't. My phone buzzed with another call. His phone rang.

The world was falling apart around us. Our fake engagement was exposed. Our careers might be over. Everything we'd built was cracking.

But we had this. We had each other. We had real.

And maybe that was enough.