They Called My Fake Date Boring, So I Kept Him novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Red Carpet

Cora runs the red carpet her own way. Gavin keeps blocking the wrong camera and ends up holding his own rose over the sponsor's logo. Cora hears Miles defend her off-microphone.

The fans had crossed out FORGIVE, and nobody had told them what to write instead.

One sign said WE ARE LOOKING INTO IT.

Another said WE SUPPORT YOU CORA (PENDING).

In the back row, one loyal man had written FORGIVE back in, in a larger marker.

Miles arrived on the red carpet in the gray cardigan.

Wesley looked at it and reached for an assistant's spare jacket.

"Just for the photographs," he said.

The jacket had three shiny buttons and sleeves cut for someone smaller.

"That belongs to a smaller man," Miles said.

"Then stand behind Cora," Wesley said.

"I'm not a changing screen," I said.

I handed the jacket back to its owner and took Miles's arm.

"No jackets," I told Wesley. "No cards. We're doing it my way."

Wesley opened his mouth, looked at the cameras, and closed it.

Miles's sleeve was soft against my bare wrist.

"Too crowded?" he asked quietly.

"A little," I said.

He steered us to the edge of the carpet without pulling me ahead of him.

At the barrier, I stopped in front of the woman holding PENDING.

"Pending is fair," I told her. "Check back later."

She laughed and held the sign higher, which helped nobody.

Gavin was waiting at the first photograph position with a white rose and his revised card.

Someone had relabeled the tape under his shoes.

It now said COUPLE.

"The couple, please," a photographer called.

Gavin stepped forward and presented the rose to the lens.

"Sir," the photographer said, "the other couple."

He stepped aside and blocked a second camera.

"You're in my shot," the second photographer told him.

He stepped back onto the COUPLE tape.

"That mark's for the lead and her date," the first photographer said.

Gavin looked down at his own handwriting.

I couldn't help smiling, and Miles saw it before the camera did.

He smiled back instead of manufacturing a hostile stare, and every shutter on the carpet fired at once.

Gavin pushed through the noise with the rose held out toward me.

"For making things difficult," he said.

"You can say what happened without handing me a prop," I said.

His smile stayed in place because the cameras were very close.

"We've all made mistakes, Cora."

"You still have the card," I said.

Miles moved to my side, which left Gavin alone with the flower.

"Sir," a photographer called, "can you hold that higher? You're covering the sponsor."

Gavin raised the rose, and the photographer shot the sponsor's logo beneath his chin.

A presenter reached us with a microphone before he could lower his arm.

"Have you two always been so close?" she asked.

"No," Miles said.

I tried not to look relieved by how simple it was.

"What's changed?" she asked.

"We're spending time together," he said.

She waited for something more dramatic.

Miles waited too, because he had finished answering.

I could have rescued the moment with a clever line.

Instead, I put my hand more firmly around his arm.

"Did Gavin encourage the date?" the presenter asked.

"I asked Cora," Miles said. "She said yes."

It was accurate, and I felt absurdly pleased by it.

The presenter swung her microphone toward Gavin, still holding his rose above the logo.

"Any advice for them?"

"Enjoy the attention while it lasts," Gavin said.

Miles thanked him with such sincerity that I nearly laughed.

The advice had failed to sound like a threat, and we went inside before Gavin could improve it.

The music in the lobby was quieter than the crowd.

Miles looked toward a tray of drinks.

"Water?" he asked.

I said yes, and he brought back two glasses.

He took his own instead of waiting for me to praise him.

I drank mine slowly, and for a few minutes the evening felt like something we might have chosen.

I stopped at the coat desk to fix the strap of my bag.

Miles stayed beside me, holding my empty glass.

"You don't have to take care of everything," I said.

"I'm holding a glass," he said. "You told me I could."

I laughed and handed him the bag as well.

Somebody hurried past, and his hand touched my shoulder.

He left it there until the crowd moved on.

I wished the corridor were more crowded than it was.

Wesley called me toward the interview room, and I took back my bag.

Behind me, Gavin said something too low for the microphones.

Miles's answer carried clearly across the gap.

"No, she doesn't owe you a statement," he said. "Stop making her explain your choices."

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