I don’t know what I expected to find, but it certainly isn’t the hundreds of reporters and photographers standing outside Giancarlo and taking pictures. I stare at them from inside the building not knowing what to do. What do they want?
“You should go out and speak to them, Natalie,” Hailey says.
“How can I? What would I say? How do they even know I’m here?”
I go back to my office upstairs while Hailey tries to get them to leave. When they wouldn’t budge, I finally succumbed and put a call through to Brandon. He makes it to Giancarlo in less than an hour, and somehow, manages to push through the crowd of reporters and get into my office, where I’m sitting on the sofa with Hailey.
“What do they want?” I ask as soon I see him.
He puts one hand in his pocket and runs the other through his midnight dark hair. “To speak to you. This happens now and then.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He throws his hands upward and continues. “You just married one of the most eligible bachelors in Seattle. Of course, the press is going to want to know who you are and where you’re from.”
“Well, why didn’t they come to the house, then?”
“They know better. My mother let dogs loose on them one time.”
“What do we do?” I ask quietly.
“She doesn’t have to respond to them if she doesn’t want to, right?” Hailey asks Brandon.
“No, she doesn’t. But the problem is… If they don’t get a definite response, they’ll keep coming back. The best way to keep them at bay is to give them a story they can chew on.”
I raise my gaze to meet his. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, let’s go out there, speak to them, and give them something to talk about.”
When Brandon and I step out to meet the reporters, my heart is in my throat, but I try to keep my breathing steady. Lights flash before our eyes and voices topple over each other. Brandon places his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to his side before turning to face the press.
“One after the other, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice holds an iota of mirth.
“How did you two meet?”
“Is it true that yours is an arranged marriage?”
“Why did we never see you two together before the wedding?”
With his arm still wrapped firmly around my waist, Brandon answers, “My wife and I met here at Giancarlo. One look at her and I was a goner. I knew I had to marry her. We were never out together before the wedding because Natalie is a very private woman. She doesn’t like to be in the public eye.”
“You haven’t answered my question, Mr Martinez.” A red-headed reporter in a suit dress says in a ringing voice. “Is it true that yours is an arranged marriage? Did Rebecca Martinez set you two up with each other?”
My heart beats faster than usual at her question. I can totally understand how they would see through our crazy love story. After all, didn’t the chairwoman come here to publicly ask me to marry her son? Any of the staff of Giancarlo could have tipped them off. Brandon looks pointedly at the reporter and lets a smile spread across his face. “Now, you tell me darling, if this looks to you like two people in an arranged marriage.”
The only warning I get is the tightening of Brandon’s hand around my waist. All of a sudden, he turns me to face him, and with those midnight sky eyes of his, holds my gaze as though he is staring through my soul. When his lips touch mine, I feel the tingling sensation at the base of my stomach erupts into a full blown explosion. His lips search mine and I open myself up in surrender. When his tongue prods my teeth, I let up, and let him in.
Everything is gone. At this moment, there are no reporters, no photographers, no bulging eyes from inside Giancarlo. No. At this moment, it is just the two of us; Brandon and me. I place a hand on his chest and hold on to his waist with the other for support. I hear his breath catch as his hands search my face and I realize that whatever it is that I’m feeling, I’m not alone.
When he pulls back from the kiss, my knees buckle and only Brandon’s steadying hand around my waist keeps me on my feet. Sound slowly begins to come back. There are loud boots and cheers from inside Giancarlo, and even the reports seem dumbfounded.
“Well now, ladies and gentlemen, if there will be no more questions, please excuse my wife and me. We have some unfinished business to settle at home.” Brandon’s hearty voice and his implied meaning cause the crowd to chuckle. As we head towards the car, more questions fly around, but Brandon places a firm grip on my waist and leads me into the car. He gets in after me, and the driver zooms off, shutting out all the questions being thrown at us.
As soon as we were away from the crowd, I let out a ragged breath. The memory of what just happened still makes my heart sing. I take a look at Brandon and see that what has on is a blank look. I reach for his hand but he deftly pulls it away and clears his throat. The reality of the situation suddenly hits me and I feel my heart hit rock bottom. An act. Of course, the kiss was just an act. He was just trying to prove a point. Whatever I thought I felt, I was alone. He was just proving a point.
What the hell was I thinking? He told me explicitly that we had to give them something to chew on. Shame envelopes me and I inch further from Brandon as much as I can. I rest my head on the door and push back the tears that threaten to fall. Get a grip, Natalie. This is a contract marriage. You have no business getting emotionally invested, I chide myself.