It Started With A Diamond

“Of course.” The woman looked Diana up and down. “You’re her. Most definitely.”

For a split second, relief washed over her. She wasn’t losing it, after all. People on the sidewalk really had been staring at her. The triumphant feeling was short-lived when she realized she still had no idea why.

“Will one of you please tell me what’s going on? What girl?”

The woman and the barista exchanged a glance.

“The girl from the billboard,” the woman said.

Diana blinked.

The girl from the billboard.

This couldn’t be about the photos she’d taken with Franco. It just couldn’t. Artem was her brother. He wouldn’t slap a picture of her on a Drake Diamonds billboard without her permission. Of course he wouldn’t.

Would he?

Diana looked back and forth between the woman and the barista. “What billboard?”

She hated how shaky and weak her voice sounded, so she repeated herself. This time she practically screamed. “What billboard?”

The woman flinched, and Diana immediately felt horrible. Her new life apparently included having her face on billboards and yelling at random strangers in coffee shops. It wasn’t exactly the fresh start she’d imagined for herself.

“It’s right outside. Take two steps out the front door and look up. You can’t miss it.” The barista lifted a brow. “Are you going to order something or what? You’re holding up the line.”

“No, thank you.” She couldn’t stomach a latte right now. Simply putting one foot in front of the other seemed like a monumental task.

She scooted out of line and made her way to the door. She paused for a moment before opening it, hoping for one final, naive second that this was all some big mistake. Maybe Artem hadn’t used the photo of her and Franco for the new campaign. Maybe the billboard they’d seen wasn’t even a Drake Diamonds advertisement. Maybe it was an ad for some other company with a model who just happened to look like Diana.

That was possible, wasn’t it?

But deep down she knew it wasn’t, and she had no one to blame but herself.

She’d stormed into Artem’s office and demanded that he find a role for her in the company that didn’t involve Engagements. She’d practically gotten down on her knees and begged. He’d given her exactly what she wanted. She just hadn’t realized that being on a billboard alongside Franco Andrade in the middle of Times Square was part of the equation.

She took a deep breath.

It was just a photograph. She and Franco weren’t a couple or anything. They were simply on a billboard together. A million people would probably walk right past it and never notice. By tomorrow it would be old news. She was getting all worked up over nothing.

How bad could it be?

She walked outside, looked up and got her answer.

It was bad. Really, really bad.

Emblazoned across the top of the Times Tower was a photo of herself being embraced from behind by Franco. The sapphire necklace dangled from his fingertips, but rather than looking like he was helping her put it on, the photo gave the distinct impression he was removing it.

Franco’s missing tie and the unbuttoned collar of his tuxedo shirt didn’t help matters. Neither did her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips.

This wasn’t an advertisement for cuff links. It looked more like an ad for sex. If she hadn’t known better, Diana would have thought the couple in the photograph was just a heartbeat away from falling into bed together.

And she and Franco Andrade were that couple.

What have I done?

* * *

Franco was trying his level best not pummel Artem Drake.

But it was hard. Really hard.

“I didn’t sign up for this.” He wadded the flimsy newsprint of Page Six in his hands and threw it at Artem, who was seated across from Franco in the confines of his Drake-blue office. “Selling cuff links, yes. Selling sex, no.”

Artem had the decency to flinch at the mention of sex, but Franco was guessing that was mostly out of a brotherly sense of propriety. After all, his sister was the one who looked as though Franco was seducing her on the cover of every tabloid in the western hemisphere.

From what Franco had heard, there was even a billboard smack in the middle of Times Square. His phone had been blowing up with texts and calls all morning. Regrettably, not a single one of those texts or calls had included an offer to return to the Kingsmen.

“Mr. Andrade, please calm down.” Artem waved a hand at the generous stack of newspapers fanned across the surface of his desk. “The new campaign was unveiled just hours ago, and it’s already a huge success. I’ve made you famous. You’re a household name. People who’ve never seen a polo match in their lives know who you are. This is what you wanted, is it not?”

Yes...

And no.

He’d wanted to get Jack Ellis’s attention. To force his hand. Just not like this.

But he couldn’t explain the details of his reinvention to Artem Drake. His new “employer” didn’t even know he’d been cut from the team. To Franco’s knowledge, no one did. And if he had anything to say about it, no one would. Because he’d be back in his jersey before the first game of the season in Bridgehampton.

That was the plan, anyway.

He stared at the pile of tabloids on Artem’s desk. Weeks of clean living and celibacy had just been flushed straight down the drain. More importantly, so had his one shot at getting his life back.

He glared at Artem. “Surely you can’t be happy about the fact that everyone in the city thinks I’m sleeping with your sister.”

A subtle tension in the set of Artem’s jaw was the only crack in his composure. “She’s a grown woman, not a child.”

“So I’ve noticed.” It was impossible not to.

A lot could happen in three years. She’d been young when she’d shared Franco’s bed. Naive. Blissfully so. If he’d realized how innocent she was, he never would have touched her.

But all that was water under the bridge.

Just like Franco’s career.

“Besides, this—” Artem gestured toward the pile of newspapers “—isn’t real. It’s an illusion. One that’s advantageous to both of us.”

This guy was unbelievable. And he was clearly unaware that Franco and Diana shared a past. Which was probably for the best, given the circumstances.

Franco couldn’t help but be intrigued by what he was saying, though. Advantageous to both of us...