At least she didn’t ask if Jacob was good in bed.
"I graduated with a degree in public relations,” I said, after taking a breath. “I’m the assistant to the CEO of Whitmore and Creighton."
"An assistant to the CEO?” She parroted back, a frown running beneath the words. “You work for your boyfriend, right?” She did not wait for me to confirm the obvious. “That must be really awkward. Especially with all the rumors that you slept your way into the job."
Our interview had taken a turn down a road I had wanted to avoid, but I kept my voice measured. "Well, I'm here to put those rumors to rest, once and for all. My professional life and personal life are separate."
"But how is that possible?” she probed. “Your boyfriend is your boss. Isn't that kind of a conflict of interest?"
My nostrils flared indignantly. "Ask me anything you want about my professional life, Jade. But my personal life is just that—personal."
She chuckled, a haughty thing with an edge that made my stomach drop.
It had been a mistake to answer her email.
I had expected fluffy, easy questions about my hobbies or if Jacob was a good kisser. The front page of celebgloss.com was filled with stories about the latest Kim Kardashian sighting and red carpet fashion. I was not looking for hard hitting journalism. The fact that Jacob’s attraction played a role in my promotion from research aide to personal assistant still made me feel guilty.
I clutched the phone, pulling my knees to my chest. Just drill the talking point home. "I'm not going to talk about my personal life. Period."
There was a long, gut wrenching silence. It was so quiet that I made out the notes of the wind rippling across the pool. I felt the creak of the house behind me, like it was leaning in, waiting for what came next. Blood screamed in my ears as my pulse raced.
"Well," Jade said, all cordiality gone from her voice. "I can assure you that no one cares about anything except why Jacob Whitmore is dating someone like you. Some people may call you Cinderella, but I'm not into fairytales. I think you're an opportunist."
My hand trembled as the word hit me like a blow to the face. She got her soundbite.
Leila Montgomery, the Opportunist.
"This interview is over." I ended the call, slamming the phone onto the table beside me.
How could I have been so stupid?
The patio door swung open, solid steps moving toward me. I cast a look over my shoulder, locking eyes with Jacob and shaking my head.
His voice was sympathetic. "That bad, huh?"
I slowly rose to my feet. "Can't we just stay here? The local press seems to have found something more interesting than us." I roped my arms around his neck. "We can live off the land."
He smirked, blue eyes sparkling. "As appealing as that thought is, we can't run from them forever." He leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. A kiss that almost erased all the worry in my heart. As delicious as his lips were, there was still no denying the fact that the Italian press were only a fraction of what I had to look forward to back in the U.S.
He read me like an open book. "Just give it time, Leila. Once they see what I see, they'll love you."
I melted into his arms, wanting to believe that so badly. As long as I had him—everything would be okay.
It had to be.
"All right, love birds," Isabella's sharp voice sounded behind us. She cocked her head toward the door, dark locks flapping in the breeze. "Your car is here."
I moved back to the scene of my second press failure, picking up my phone from the table. The screen was illuminated with a text from Jade Simone.
Your story will be live just in time for your return to US. Good luck, Leila. You'll need it.