Lila

CHAPTER THREE: Lila’s POV

“Going somewhere?”

I froze with my hand on the doorknob, an oversized cap hiding half my face, heels dangling from two fingers and my box beside me like a woman who genuinely believed she could tiptoe her way out of a five star scandal.

“Yes, actually. It’s a new day and some of us have our own lives to live. Revolutionary concept, I know.”

Zeek was leaning against the wall by the window, arms crossed, all cut shoulders and unfairly good bone structure for a man who’d been screaming a few hours ago. It was almost offensive, how well the arrogance sat on him. I hated that some petty part of my brain noticed how attractive and masculine he looked. 

“You think this is over because you got dressed and found the exit?”

“I think this is over because there’s nothing left to discuss.”

“Nothing left to discuss? My career is on the line because you decided to sneak into my room, make yourself known to the paparazzi and cost me everything I’ve worked for.”

“Let’s forgive the fact that your facts are incorrect.” I turned to face him fully if  he wanted a fight, I’d rather have it facing him than with my hand uselessly on a door that clearly wasn’t opening. 

“What am I supposed to do? Beg your arrogant ass for forgiveness before I start my day?”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I just did. Bye, loser.” I tried the door again more firmly this time but unfortunately it didn’t budge.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You want to lock me in against my will?”

“No. I want you to pay for the trick you pulled last night.”

“Okay.” I crossed my arms, matching his stance, refusing to let him see me rattled. This was a man built to feed on other people flinching, and I wasn’t about to be breakfast. “How much are we talking?”

“Three months.”

I blinked at him, waiting for the number that was supposed to follow.

“For?”

“Be my girlfriend.”

“The fuck? Hell. No.”

“Yeah. Same, not like you’re my type but the photo from midnight’s making rounds, my fiancée was spotted with Leo Cane, and I need a relationship that looks real by tonight. Who better than the woman caught in my room.”

Like I want to be a Pig’s type but Wait. What could my brother be doing with Zeek finance? He didn’t mention it the last time we talked or could they have mixed him up with someone else? 

Focus Lila. 

Focus.

“First off, it’s my room, you’re the one who—”

“This is room 106. If you haven’t been living under a rock, you’d know I only stay in 106. Not my first time here. So how, exactly, is it your room?”

106.

The screw. The bent one hanging off center, upside down in the dark, looking exactly like a nine to a woman running on three hours of sleep and a migraine. I’d broken into his room over a loose screw but I refused to give him the satisfaction of watching me realize it.

“That’s beside the point,” I said instead, filing the humiliation away for later. “I’m not interested in being your fake girlfriend.”

“You don’t have a say. My lawyer’s already on his way with the contract. You sign, you play the part for three months, and nobody finds out you snuck into my room in the middle of the night. Simple.”

“You must be out of your—”

His phone shutter clicked, once, twice, before I could react.

I turned too late with my cap slipping and hand flying up to cover the rest of my face. 

“Delete that.”

“Now I have your picture. Should I send it to the blogs myself? Let everyone know exactly who broke into my room.”

I made myself go still. Panic would hand him exactly what he wanted, and I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to be the one who flinched first.

Here was the truth I wasn’t about to say out loud: it wasn’t the photo that scared me. It was what came after it, someone connecting my face to Richy, to a stepfather who owned this hotel and Zeek Marlow team, or someone connecting me to a brother about to walk onto ice in a few hours with cameras already circling him. One wrong headline and Leo’s biggest day became a story about me instead of him.

And underneath that, was a second thought I liked far better. Three months inside Zeek Marlow’s life was three months of proximity I’d never accessed on my own, the same chance I’d been chasing for years since Gabby stopped answering my calls after her night with him. 

So if  Zeek Marlow wanted to hand me a front row seat to his secrets, I wasn’t about to hand it back out of pride.

“Fine,” I said, letting my shoulders drop just enough to sell defeat. “But I have conditions.”

“You’re not in a position to negotiate.”

“I have exactly one, and you’re going to agree to it, or I let every camera outside write whatever story it wants.”

A knock landed against the door just then, a man I recognized from Richy’s circle stepped in with a briefcase, and I angled my face away out of habit.

Zeek signed his copy without bothering to read it while I  took my time with mine, scanning every line twice, making them wait.

“My privacy,” I said, sliding the pen between my fingers instead of signing yet. “No full face in any photo release until I say otherwise. You can spin whatever story you need publicly, but you don’t put my face out there until I decide it’s time.”

“Fine. Sign it.”

I did that slowly and deliberately, watching his face the entire time instead of the paper, because I wanted him to remember exactly who chose to put her name on this and the fact that it was on my terms and not that of his arrogant ass.

He had no idea he’d just handed me the one thing I’d been hunting for since the night Gabby disappeared.

My phone buzzed against the table. I glanced down out of habit, and the screen lit up with my wallpaper, Leo mid stride, stick raised, the exact frame that won me picture of the year last season.

Zeek’s eyes dropped to it before I could lock the screen.

“Cane is your fucking wallpaper?” His voice dropped low, furious, hatred and something else tangled underneath it.

“Yes. So?” If only he knew Leo was more than my favorite player.

“Who is he to you? Did he pay you to sneak into my room and ruin me right before our finals? Is that what you’re here to do?”

Talk about being dramatic. As if my brother will stop that low when he could boldly whoop his ass on ice.

I cleared my throat carefully. 

“Let’s not get ahead of our—”

“What’s your full name? What’s your relationship with fucking Leo Cane and his team?“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​