I nod, glancing over at Viv. It probably would have been a good idea to discuss our strategy going into this, but it’s too late now. I’ll just have to follow her lead.

“Cara will be recording this session, just in case we need to review anything later, all right?”

I look at Viv, who seems nonplussed, so I nod my agreement again.

“Okay, let’s start at the beginning. You’ll most certainly be asked this. How did you two meet?”

I grin automatically in response to her question, recalling the moment Vivienne literally crashed into my world. I glance at Viv, who’s already looking at me. I tilt my head in a silent indication she should go ahead.

“We ran into each other on campus,” she says.

Anne holds a pen poised over her notepad, clearly waiting for Vivienne to elaborate. When neither of us say anything else, she glances up expectantly.

“It was a brief conversation,” I contribute.

Viv snorts, and I wink at her.

Anne jots something down on the paper. “Okay then. When was the next time you saw each other?”

“We happened to run into one another a few weeks later,” Viv answers. “Also on campus.”

“Stalker,” I cough. Viv elbows me sharply.

Anne makes another note. “Did anyone witness this interaction?” she asks.

“I don’t think so. We were out in the open on campus, but it was early in the morning. There wasn’t really anyone else around.”

“Okay,” Anne replies. “When was the first time you were seen together?”

“Uh…probably when Jace took me to the football stadium. He was trying to show off—”

I scoff at that, although it’s true.

“—and the whole team saw us together.”

“Could there be any photographs or recordings of that interaction?”

“I don’t think so,” Vivienne replies, looking to me.

“There are security cameras in the stadium,” I state. “But I don’t know if Lincoln keeps the recordings.”

Anne nods. “It shouldn’t be an issue. Any other public interactions?”

“We were at a party together,” Viv admits.

“And people saw you together?”

“Yes,” I respond this time.

“Photos or videos?” Anne questions.

“It’s possible,” I acknowledge, recalling the stares when I caught Viv in the kitchen. “But I imagine they would have come out by now if there were any.”

“You might be surprised by what people can be convinced to come up with for a few thousand dollars.”

“A few thousand dollars?” I laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I can assure you I’m not, Mr. Dawson.”

“For a grainy video of me carrying Viv up the stairs?”

“You carried her upstairs at this party?” Anne asks. “In front of other students?”

I falter. “Uh, yes.”

“To your bedroom, I presume?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I defend. “She was—”

“I’m not asking you to divulge any details regarding your private interactions with the princess, Mr. Dawson,” Anne interrupts. “My job is simply to ensure the public narrative doesn’t involve any more surprises and assure the media your brief relationship is long over. I’m sure you can appreciate why a photograph or video of you carrying the princess to your bedroom wouldn’t be helpful for either of those goals. Regardless of what may or may not have happened behind closed doors.”