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the money. He just wanted to understand
the setup. “Apparently you two have thought of everything.”
    Ian smiled. “This will work, Simon. If you’ll let her take
charge for a while, do everything she tells you, you’ll get Ty back. I fully
believe that. Will you meet with her?”
    “Not today.” He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to lay
into her again. Every time he remembered that whole assault thing, he wanted to
go ape shit.
    “Tomorrow, then?”
    Why not? It was worth a shot. Gail DeMarco wasn’t the most
appealing woman in the world, but she was better than the alternative.
“Fine.”
    Ian slapped his knees and stood. “Fantastic. So…are we good?
Are we back in business?”
    Simon hated to give in so easily, but in his current condition
he didn’t have the wherewithal to do much else. “Yeah, I guess so. For now,” he
added grudgingly.
    “You’ll be glad you hired me back. I promise. But…”
    “What?” Simon said when he hesitated.
    “No drinking tonight, okay? I don’t want Gail to see you like
this.”
    Simon gave him a wry smile. “You think she’ll walk out on two
million dollars?”
    “I know she will. Her reputation will be on the line. She’ll
only do it if she believes we can succeed.”
    He was probably right. That was partly why Gail had always made
him a little defensive and uneasy. His money didn’t matter to her. Neither did
his fame. And he wasn’t too strong in any of the categories that did.
    * * *
    It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Pale October
sunlight drifted into the living room of Simon’s Beverly Hills mansion through a
series of large front windows, but Gail barely noticed. They’d just come in from
outside, where Ian had taken pictures of her and Simon wrapped in each other’s
arms, their mouths only millimeters apart as if they’d just kissed or were about
to. They planned to kick off the campaign by leaking those suggestive
photographs to the press. It was all calculated and arranged. It meant nothing.
And yet…standing so close to Simon had left Gail a bit breathless.
    She tried to pretend otherwise, but Simon immediately threw her
off balance again.
    “What about sex?” he asked, taking a seat on the sofa, while
she stood closer to Ian, who had his laptop on a table and was downloading the
pictures.
    Gail had been planning to cover this herself. She just hadn’t
found the nerve. “What do you mean?” she asked, stalling while she formulated
her response.
    He held the club soda he’d poured himself. “You’ve told me that
from this minute on I can’t drink a drop of alcohol. You’ve negotiated your
price. And you’ve covered how we’ll make the marriage look real by leaking
information and photographs to the press. You’ve even had Ian take the pictures
you plan to start with.” He motioned to his manager. “He’ll be emailing them to
you any minute. Don’t you think it’s time to address how we’re going to handle
our marriage on the inside? I’m assuming I can’t
cheat—”
    “Of course not. That would endanger the whole campaign!” she
broke in.
    “So what am I supposed to do?” He slid one hand down his thigh
as he shifted, adjusting the fit of the faded jeans he wore with a simple
T-shirt and expensive-looking house shoes. “If we were talking about two months
it might be different. But we’re talking about two
years. ”
    Dressed in a standard business suit, since she considered this
a business meeting, she fiddled with one of her buttons. “I realize that sounds
like a long time.”
    “Damn right,” he said. “An eternity. You’re not suggesting I go
without, are you?”
    Hoping he’d explain why her answer had to be what it was, Gail
looked at Ian. But he merely glanced up from his computer and arched his
eyebrows, implying that this one was all hers.
    “Thanks for jumping in to break the bad news,” she
grumbled.
    He grinned for the first time. “It’s kind of funny to watch you
flounder. I’ve