I had a sex life. Unless the nights I spent with my vibrator counted. “I’m not sure if people will buy that we’re a couple.”
“Countless people already think we’re sleeping together.”
“They do? Why?”
“Because you’ve stuck around this long, and because I’ve never threatened to fire you.” His eyes bore into mine, burning with intensity. “Say yes, Vienna.”
I groaned. “I’d be walking around with a divorce under my belt at twenty-five. Well, I’d be twenty-six at the time we separated, wouldn’t I?” More, if I ever remarried, I’d be unable to explain to my husband—a man I truly would love and adore—that my previous marriage had been fake. I’d never be able to tell my family the truth either.
Would I be able to fool them into believing I loved Dane? Probably. As he’d said, I had a good poker face. Even Wyatt struggled to sense when I was lying, and he had a tip-top bullshit meter. But … “I hate the thought of lying to the people I care for.”
“So you told them about the sex video?”
Well, no.
“You keep absolutely no secrets from them? You believe they tell you everything? That they’ve never lied to you for one reason or another?”
I sighed. “I get your point—everyone lies sometimes, everyone has their secrets.”
“I never told a soul about that sex video; I kept your secret for you. Would you really balk at keeping one for me? It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything that you’d need to be ashamed of. If your family could be told the truth, they wouldn’t vilify you for keeping your word and repaying a favor—especially if they knew the ins and outs of what happened with your ex. But no one besides you and me can know the marriage is fake, Vienna.”
“My family wouldn’t tell.”
“Maybe not, but you’d have to ask them to lie for you to others—including people they may care for. You’d have to ask them to put on an act for you when they’re around everyone else. Would you feel comfortable asking that of them?”
I exhaled heavily. “No. No, I wouldn’t.” It would be more unfair to ask them to play a part in the deception than it would be for me to lie to them.
“You needed my help two years ago, and I gave it to you.”
“If you think back, I didn’t actually ask for your help.” It was a weak argument, yes, but it was all I had.
“No, but you were happy to let me take care of the problem for you. And I did. Thoroughly. Now I need something from you.”
“Look, I want to help you—”
“This is the only way you can.”
I closed my eyes. Fuck. It didn’t seem wise to fake-marry a guy you had a crush on. Like at all. But whether I liked it or not, I did owe Dane. I never would have agreed to my ex’s demands, which meant the sex video would have been plastered on the internet. Once something was on there, you could never get it off. Anyone could have seen it.
My family definitely would have seen it, because my ex had made it clear that he’d send it to each of my loved ones. He’d also promised to email it to my boss and other coworkers—it would have been easy enough for him to get their email addresses from o-Verve’s website.
Even if Dane had been prepared to dismiss the matter, he couldn’t have kept me as his PA—I’d have lost the respect of everyone at the company. I wouldn’t have wanted to stay anyway for the simple reason that I couldn’t have looked any of my coworkers in the eye.
Wherever I went, I’d have been paranoid that someone had seen the video and recognized me from it. And if they had, I’d have had to deal with people laughing, sneering, and maybe even coming onto me, demanding an “encore.”
I wouldn’t have been the only one affected. My father and foster parents would have stood by me, but they’d have suffered embarrassment from it, too. People might have made cruel or snarky comments to them—maybe even at their place of work, which would have led to them defending me and possibly losing their jobs.
Since I would definitely have lost my own job, I’d have had to find another. Dane might have allowed me to conceal from future potential employers why I’d lost the job. But, knowing my ex, he’d have been spiteful enough to send my new employer a damn copy.