A Very Exclusive Engagement(30)
Francesca could handle June. “I’ll call over there Monday morning,” she agreed. Part of her hoped the president and his staff would see what a bad idea this was. She knew it would mean good ratings, and maybe a boost in public opinion for ANS, but it felt wrong. If she had been adopted, she didn’t think she’d want those first reunion moments captured for the world to see.
“Sounds great.” Liam set aside the folded paper and reached his hand across the table to rest on hers. “Thank you for asking her. I know you felt uncomfortable about it.”
“It’s Ariella’s decision to make, not mine. If she thinks it’s the right choice, far be it for me to tell her no. It’s her life.”
“I think you’ll do a great job running the show. I know it isn’t something you’ve handled at the network before, but you’ll do a bang-up job. Everything has been so crazy since I started at ANS, but I really believe that we can bring this network back. If all goes well, I’ll get absolute control of the stock and we can end the fake engagement. The exclusive with the president and his daughter will earn us Brownie points and market share for our time slot. I know I can rebuild this network—with your help. So thank you for everything you’ve done so far.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, fidgeting with her coffee mug. A lot of pieces had to click together for these miracle scenarios to work out. And deep in her heart, Francesca worried that eventually, things would start to go awry.
*
Monday morning, Francesca breezed into Liam’s office without Jessica’s usual announcement. He looked up from his computer as she entered and a wide grin broke out across his face. He should be smiling after the weekend they’d spent together. “I see you’re enjoying the new privileges of being the owner’s bride-to-be.”
“Exclusive access, anytime,” she said with a grin.
Liam was glad to see her relaxed and happy. At first, he wasn’t sure they could pull this off. Liam would never admit to that out loud; this had to work or he’d lose the network. And he knew Francesca had her own worries. She wore every emotion on her face. But after their time together this weekend, he was certain they both had sunnier outlooks on the arrangement. The lines of doubt were no longer wrinkling her brow, replaced with a contented smile that suited her much better.
Francesca set a to-go cup of coffee and a bag of Italian breakfast cookies in front of him. She was going to get him addicted to those things and he’d never be able to find them without her help.
“Grande drip with one cream, one sugar,” she announced.
“Just how I like it,” he said, turning in his chair to give her a hello kiss.
Francesca leaned into him but pulled away before his hands roamed too far. As much as it annoyed him to not be able to touch her when and where he wanted, he understood. Their relationship might be for the sake of the company, but public displays of affection at the office were a little much. She sat down in the guest chair with her own cup.
“Have you called the White House yet?” he asked.
“It’s nine in the morning and I just handed you a hot, fresh coffee from the bakery. No. I haven’t been to my office yet.”
“Okay, sorry,” he said, taking a sip. “You know I’m excited to move this plan forward.”
“I know. I’ll call once I get to my desk. Hopefully it won’t take very long. I have a million things to wrap up this week before the gala on Saturday.”
Liam nodded, but the details of the event didn’t really interest him. The gala was really just a blip on his radar. And they were only doing it because she had agreed to be his fiancée. He couldn’t have justified the expense given the state of the network. As it was, every mention of centerpieces and orchestras made dollar signs run through his mind.
“Now about the gala,” she continued. “I’ve got most everything in place. Ticket sales have gone well and our sponsorship will see to it that it’s the best year we’ve had yet. You’ll need to make sure your tuxedo goes to the cleaners.”
Liam made a note on his blotter so he wouldn’t forget to ask Jessica about that later. “Check.”
“And write a speech.”
“What’s that?” Liam looked up, his brow furrowed. He didn’t like public speaking. As a matter of fact, he hated it. Avoided it at all costs and had since prep school debate class. Not even his aunt’s declaration of mandatory matrimony made his stomach turn the way approaching a crowd of people with a microphone could do. There was a reason he preferred to be behind the camera instead of in front of it.