pockets of his slacks and smiled. “If she pretends to be my fiancée for six weeks, we’ll use her app, exclusively, for six weeks.”
RJ shook his head. “You’re crazy. That woman’s looking for a much longer connection to RGF than six weeks and she didn’t look at all interested in anything else, let alone hanging around you for the next month and a half.”
“I don’t know, RJ,” Desta said. She kept her gaze on Major, that smile she’d given Maurice just a few minutes ago now aimed at him. “He is the Fashion House Playboy.”
“A completely bogus title that I wish we’d all stop referring to around here,” he added, exasperation clear in his tone. The press had given him that name when they took the three dates he’d had in succession with three different models in the span of three nights as a sign that he was actually sleeping with each of those women.
If ever a label were unwarranted, it was that one.
“We took the Fashion House Playboy course the press has been on into consideration when talks about a campaign to heighten sales for Golden Bride began. Right now, a lot of fashion media is focused on you and who you’ll date next, so we’ll build on that momentum with the announcement of your engagement,” Desta said.
Major folded his arms across his chest as he stood there staring at the people in the room. He spent more time with them than any woman, but nobody reported that to the tabloids.
“I wasn’t the only option,” he countered.
Desta shook her head. “To be fair, no, we considered RJ, but you know—” she nodded in RJ’s direction “—he’s RJ. He only talks about the company to the press and nobody’s ever seen him on a date. I think he must sneak women into the basement of his brownstone.”
“It’s called being discreet. Nobody’s entitled to the details of my private life but me. A very simple concept that people should learn to accept,” RJ said in his very cordial but no-nonsense tone.
Desta shrugged his comment off. “And Maurice is with so many women all the time that making it believable that he’s settling down was going to be an uphill battle.”
“But it’s more believable that ten seconds after I’m given the silly name of Fashion House Playboy, I’d mysteriously pop up married?” He’d entertained all these questions before and the outcome hadn’t changed.
“Look,” Desta said, lifting that brow. “You guys flat-out told me not to approach Riley with this plan even though she’s dating a guy from RGF’s rival fashion house. But I definitely understand you’re her big brothers and you wanted to protect Riley from any more tabloid assaults. She’s definitely had more than her share. But that just put the three of you on the hot seat, and Major, honey, as I said, your current media attention will work so well with this fake fiancée plan.”
Actually, he’d acquiesced without putting up too much of a fight because now was not the time to ruffle feathers in his family. He already had a bombshell he was waiting to drop when he announced he was leaving the company. If agreeing to this marketing plan was going to keep things chill until he was ready to go public with his solo business venture, Brand Integrated Technologies, then so be it. He could endure for six weeks.
He nodded. “I’m fine with that. But this is the woman I want for the job of my fake fiancée.” Each time he said those words he felt ridiculous.
“I just don’t know about that,” RJ said.
Desta stared at Major, considering everything he’d said. Plans were already rolling around in her head. That’s how she worked. Silent thinking and then, poof! great marketing idea, which is why she’d risen to the top of the department in such a short time.
“I say go for it,” Maurice added. “If she says no, there’s nobody better to convince her than Major with his brash good looks and unexpected heart.”
The last was their family secret. Major was nothing like the press portrayed; his twin was the flamboyant lover of the Gold men. Major was the quiet computer geek.
“Do it,” Desta said. “Get her to say yes by noon tomorrow and we can add your engagement announcement to the lineup at our annual Summer Sip ’n’ Chat tomorrow evening,” she told him. “Let me know when the agreement is made and I’ll take care of everything else.”
He resisted the urge to do a fist