“I asked you,” she grits out. “No—I begged you—not to keep any more secrets from me after the wedding.”

At least he has the decency to look contrite when he responds. “You did.”

“And you didn’t see fit to tell me the woman you married just happened to be pregnant?”

“It’s not his fault,” I cut in, shaking like a leaf but unwilling to let him take the fall. “I asked him not to—”

“Of course it’s your fault,” she snaps. “Every bit of this is your fault. Before you, I had some control over this one.” She swats a hand toward Lyle, who is the picture of calm, albeit a touch annoyed.

“You’re overreacting,” he says, rolling his eyes, which only further enrages her.

“Am I?” She scoffs. “Because there is no way we can pass this child off as yours, considering the image was clear enough to zoom in and read the due date!”

“So?” he shrugs, while I stir beside him, damn near hyperventilating.

“So,” I answer, meekly, “We either have to say we slept together while I was still with Trent or admit that I was already pregnant when we wed.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Anika appears to be on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. “Your fans haven’t even fully accepted her as your wife yet and now this.”

“It’s a fucking baby, Anika. Everyone loves babies!”

There he goes, finally showing some emotion. Though I’m not sure it’s the kind that’ll help our cause.

“Not women who fantasize about having you for themselves.” She scrubs a frustrated hand over her face. “Women who we’re trying to sell on some fairy tale love story.”

“We just need to make a statement,” he says to her, but his mollifying tone says it’s more for my benefit. “Go grab your laptop.” He shoos his manager toward the door with a few backward waves of his fingers. “And let’s get this thing handled.”

“No,” she says shaking her head side to side in rapid succession. “You and your new PR nightmare here can figure this one out on your own.”

Shit. “I have to sit down,” I say, panting for breath before plopping down on the foot of the bed. Lyle’s rigid posture says he’s about to blow.

From this vantage point I can only see the back of his head, but can clearly envision the look he gives her. “I can appreciate that you’re upset. But that’s enough of this tantrum throwing.” He takes a purposeful step toward her. “It is literally your job to smooth this shit over. It’s what we pay you, quite nicely I might add, to do. Get off your fucking high horse, go get that damn laptop, and let’s get this dealt with like adults.”

Other than some heavy breathing, Anika handles her berating fairly well.