CHRISTOPHER
I watch Hayden disappear into the store to buy her magazine with a smile.
“What you thinking about?” Harvey asks from his seat beside me.
“Just how lucky I am.”
“That you are,” he replies.
“We just got her back.” Valerie wrings her hands in her lap, and I know this can’t be easy for her.
“I’m going to look after her, Mrs. Whitmore. You have my word.”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears, and as if sensing an impending meltdown, she stands. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she says before rushing off.
I watch Valerie walk away while wiping her tears away, and despair fills me.
“Christopher . . . ,” Harvey says as he stares at me.
“Yes.”
“Now . . . if you know Hayden like I think you do, you understand that she’s special.”
I nod. “I do.”
“Hayden isn’t like other people. She’s different. She’s kind and trusting and hates drama. You’ll never hear her complain.”
“It’s those qualities in her that I love, Mr. Whitmore.”
“Her empathy for those around her is her biggest strength and yet her greatest weakness,” he continues. “We had hoped that she would toughen up on that trip around the world, but she’s come back so madly in love with you that she can’t even see straight.”
My eyes search his.
“What I’m trying to say is that it is up to you to make sure that she’s happy.”
I frown.
“She will put your needs and your happiness before her own because when Hayden loves, it’s forever.”
I get a lump in my throat.
“Hayden doesn’t say much, but I’m trusting you to read between the lines and guarantee me that you will protect her at all costs . . . even if that means hurting yourself.”
I imagine if Hayden ever left me . . . and the devastation it would cause.
I would never recover.
His silhouette blurs as my eyes fill with tears. “You have my word.” I shake his hand, and his eyes fill with tears too.
Fuck me dead.
I wipe my eyes, embarrassed. “Stop.” I laugh.
He pulls me into a hug. “I’m trusting you with the most important thing in the world. Promise me to keep her safe.”
“I promise.” He slaps me on the back, and I know that this is it.
From here on in, I have to adult. There is no room for mistakes in my life anymore. If I want to love someone like Hayden, I need to step up and be the man that she deserves.
“I don’t believe it,” Hayden’s voice says from beside us. “You two hugging it out now?”
We step back from each other in a rush. “I was just telling him how much I hate him,” Harvey says in his stern voice.
I chuckle, because now I know. This man is a big softy. “Sure, you were.”
“Where’s Mom?” Hayden looks around.
“Crying in the bathroom, I suspect,” Harvey replies.
“Oh.” Her face falls. “I’m going to check on her.” She hands me a paper and raises her eyebrow. “Got you some interesting reading material.”
I frown at her undertone and glance down at the Ferrara News and see the headline.
Fuck.
Harvey and I sit back down, and as he continues talking, I casually flick through the paper until I get to the story.
Christopher Miles has returned from a sabbatical with Miss Average.
I inhale sharply as the sky turns red.
How dare they.
How. Fucking. Dare. They.
Do not mess with Hayden.
Screw me over all you like, but mention one hair on her head, and it’s fucking war.
I stand, too angry to stay seated. “You want a cup of coffee?” I ask Harvey.
“No, thanks.”
I march in the direction of the cafeteria and scroll through my phone. I turn the corner and call the Miles Media head lawyer.
“Christopher,” he answers in surprise. “How are you?”
“Furious,” I growl. “There is a story run in today’s US Ferrara News about my girlfriend, and I want fucking blood,” I spit. “I want a retraction, an apology, and if they dare run one more fucking story in regards to her . . . I’m taking them to court,” I whisper angrily. “The images have been photoshopped and are complete and utter fucking bullshit.”
“Calm down.”
“I will not calm down,” I half yell. “You fix this. You fucking fix this right now!”
“I’m on it.”
I hang up in a rush. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins. The sky is so red that I can hardly see. I pace back and forth as I try to calm myself down. I’ve never been so fucking angry.
Average . . . what the actual fuck?
How dare they!
How dare they disrespect any woman with that derogatory term. But my woman . . . no fucking way.
My phone rings.
Jameson
“What?” I answer.
“I just saw it,” he replies.
“You sort this fucking shit out,” I fume as I pace. “I will not have her treated like this.”
“We’re already on it. Calm down.”
“Calm down!” I cry. “Ferrara just drew a line in the sand. They’re going to target her.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Yes. We fucking do!” I yell. My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m so angry I can hardly even speak. “I’m about to get on a plane. Sort it out.” I hang up in a rush.
I go to the window and stare out at the planes on the runway as I imagine the shitstorm we’re about to fly into.
My god.
“Babe.” Hayden’s hand slides around my waist from behind. “Is everything all right?”
I turn and take her into my arms, and instantly I begin to relax. This woman is so calming and so beautiful, and fucking hell, whatever does she see in me?
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, “that . . .” I pause. “Please know that the story is an attack on me, not you. It’s not personal.”
Her eyes search mine. “Feels pretty personal.”
I hug her and hold her tight, and I have no idea what to say to make this any better. “I’m on it,” I reply.
“What does that mean?”
“I want a retraction.”
Her face falls as she steps back from me. “So what you’ve effectively done is to make sure that everybody will know about the story now?”
“Hayden, they can’t get away with writing a story like this. I won’t stand by and let some idiotic woman write about you in this manner.”
“How do you know it was a woman?”
“Because men don’t think about women this way. We just don’t.”
“That photo was tampered with,” she says as she looks up at me. “I don’t have cellulite in my ankles. Nobody on earth does, not even elephants.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. This is so appalling.” I stare at her. My heart is in my throat as I wait for the impending explosion.
“This isn’t appalling.” She frowns. “What it is . . . is pathetic journalism on their behalf. I mean, if they called me a racist or a homophobe, I would be outraged and heartbroken.” She shrugs. “But . . . I have nothing to be ashamed about. I’m not a size two, and I’m not a supermodel. I’m completely okay with that.”
I stare at the beautiful woman in front of me. Such a different species of female from what I’ve ever known.
“I mean, not my best shot . . . obviously.” She widens her eyes. “Hideous, actually.”
“How are you not upset about this?” I frown.
“Because I’m more than that. And if someone judges me about my looks, then it’s a reflection of them and not me.”
My god . . .