didn’t think Vik would be as easily swayed. If he thought Maddie needed a bodyguard for her security, she’d have one.
The same way the company’s on-site security system had been upgraded because Vik deemed it necessary. Her father had been all for it, though.
Nothing was too good for Archer International Holdings.
The limo was waiting in front of the elevator bank in the parking garage. Thankfully, no enterprising reporter had managed to keep vigil. Which probably had less to do with the parking garage guards than the two additional indigo-badge bodyguards standing at attention on either side of the elevator doors.
One of them stepped forward to open the door to the limo and she stepped inside, only then realizing that Vik had taken the conference call on his mobile.
Every dark hair perfectly in place, his designer suit immaculate, he nodded at her while carrying on a conversation in Japanese.
His words did not falter, his Japanese smooth and unhesitating, and yet she felt the weight of his full regard. Like his attention was fully on her.
Like she mattered.
Succumbing to the desire to sit beside him, Maddie settled onto the smooth leather seat across from AIH’s media fixer. Relieved that none of the bodyguards had instructions to join them in the back of the limo, she was still grateful the other occupant gave her an excuse to give in to the irresistible urge.
The need to be near Vik was verging on ungovernable, just like it had been six years ago.
Maddie wanted to chalk it up to the exceptional circumstances. She just wasn’t sure she could.
Which was not enough of a caution to move to the other seat. There was simply no comparison between Vik and Conrad, who until that morning she had found slightly annoying but now considered flat-out obnoxious.
The PR guru took a break from typing madly on his tablet to silently acknowledge her. If his smile looked more like a grimace, she wasn’t interested enough in interacting with him to call him on it.
Besides, Perry’s fake exposé had triggered an ugly media frenzy beyond anything Maddie had ever experienced for her far more innocent escapades.
There was even speculation now that some of her riskier endeavors had been the result of orders from her master. That wasn’t even the worst of it. Maddie did not know how a virgin could be labeled a sex addict with obvious intimacy issues, but she’d stopped reading her Google alerts after that headline.
The limo had exited the parking garage and pulled away from her building when Vik ended his phone call.
“Are you okay?” he asked Maddie.
Honesty would reveal a level of vulnerability she wasn’t comfortable sharing with Vik, much less Conrad. She had no idea how her life had spun out of control so fast.
And Perrygate was only part of it. Her father’s ultimatum and the realization their relationship would never be what she wanted had been followed too closely by the equally alarming, if for different reasons, acknowledgment that she was actually considering marrying her girlhood crush.
“I’m fine.”
“Good,” Conrad said, as if he’d asked the question. “Containing this media bloodbath is going to take serious effort and you need to be on your top game.”
He didn’t have to tell her. Maddie had spent the time since Vik had dropped her off earlier worrying about what would happen if she couldn’t reclaim her reputation.
The all too real prospect of losing her dreams of opening a small charter school tightened Maddie’s throat, so she just nodded.
Once the media started looking more closely at Maddie’s life, her alter ego was bound to come to light and the probability of losing her volunteer position was pretty much guaranteed.
While she enjoyed the anonymity of her Maddie Grace persona, she’d only taken rudimentary steps to keep her two lives separate. She wasn’t James Bond, after all, just a socialite who craved time contributing as a normal person.
The only reason no one had cottoned on to Maddie Grace and Madison Archer being the same person before was that the news simply wasn’t all that interesting. Or it hadn’t been.
Her notoriety as Madcap Madison had been of the innocent variety, good for filler pieces in the social columns, but not salacious enough to really impact circulation numbers. Therefore she had not been interesting enough to be targeted by any serious digging.
She’d no doubt reporters were getting out their sharpest spades now. Perrygate was all that and a bag of chips for the gossipmongers.
The most painful part of Maddie’s predicament was that it wasn’t just her dreams on the line here; Romi was equally invested in the charter school.
Vik sent a text and then pocketed his phone. “Our lack of an immediate response opened the door to other spurious claims from supposed former lovers.”
Vik gave Conrad a look that left no doubt exactly who the VP of Operations for AIH blamed for that mistake.
Maddie felt no smugness at the media fixer being so obviously in the doghouse with Vik. Her life was too out of control to harbor even a hint of that, but she couldn’t help the small thrill of pleasure at him taking her side.
From the moment he’d stepped in and ordered Conrad’s cooperation that morning, Maddie had known she wasn’t alone in facing the painful consequences of her onetime friend’s betrayal.
Conrad tugged at the collar of his shirt. “We’re working on retractions, but the best strategy for solidifying the prank angle is to give the media hounds another story.”
“What do you mean? Like a two-headed baby from outer space, or something?” Maddie asked as her phone chimed to indicate a text from one of her select group.
Thinking it was Romi, she pulled out her phone and checked the message. It wasn’t from her SBC; it was from Vik and said, You are not fine. We will talk. Later.
She texted back. If you say so.
Vik pulled his phone out and replied to her text while speaking. “Or something. A glossy celebrity gossip magazine has already offered a two-page spread announcing our formal engagement in exchange for exclusive photos of a lavish, well-attended wedding reception.”
“We’re engaged now?” Had she missed something between the text convo and their in-person discussion?
Vik didn’t answer, but waited in silence for her to come to her own conclusion.
“It’s the best way to stop any more dirty snow falling in this avalanche,” Conrad said unctuously.
“Dirty snow? Really?” she asked sarcastically.
“Do you have a better word for it?”
“Perrygate.”
“Appropriate, but don’t use it on your social networks,” Conrad instructed her. “It implies a negative rift between you and Mr. Timwater. We’re dismissing all this as a joke gone wrong.”
“Then you can play it off as the bad joke that ruined a friendship. I won’t play nice with Perry.” She couldn’t.
Conrad frowned thoughtfully. “It would be better for you to be seen as the forgiving friend. Waiting a few months to cut the man from your life will increase your popularity.”
“I don’t care.”
“Timwater isn’t coming within a hundred feet of Madison, not even to apologize.” Vik’s voice brooked no argument.
And Conrad proved he was more intelligent than other evidence to the contrary because he didn’t make one. “Fine. Fine.” He started taking notes. “‘The Prank That Ended a Friendship.’ I can use that. We can spin the angle even. ‘The Bad Joke That Almost Ended an Engagement.’”