揟his is Natasha and Blair,?he introduces. 揟hey抮e from New York too.?
揂wesome.?You could hear the fakeness in my voice from outer space.
I don抰 have to see Crew抯 smile; I can hear it in his voice. 揘atasha goes to Parsons.?He looks to the lighter of the two blondes. 揝carlett is the editor-in-chief of Haute.?There抯 an unmistakable note of pride in his voice that wreaks havoc on my nervous system.
揙h my God! Really??Suddenly, Natasha and Blair are looking at me with awe, not annoyance. 揑 love Haute. I read every issue cover to cover. The articles, the photography, the design? All my friends are obsessed with it.?
Each month, I get the number for Haute抯 circulation. I judge the success of the magazine on how much money it is making and which models or actresses want to be featured on the cover. But I抳e never seen the hero worship on someone抯 face as they realize I approved every page.
揅an you sign this??Natasha pulls a worn copy of the July issue out of her bag and holds it out to me, along with a pen.
揢m, sure.?I take the pen and scribble my signature just below the bold font spelling out Haute.
Natasha takes the magazine back like it抯 a priceless treasure.
揥ould one of you mind taking a photo of us??Crew asks, holding his phone out.
I抦 surprised but I try not to show it. Aside from our wedding photos, we don抰 have any together. I didn抰 think he would want any.
Blair takes Crew抯 phone as he pulls me toward the railing. I trip over nothing and slam into his chest.
揑f you wanted to stand this close, all you had to do was ask,?he whispers as he pulls me to him. I smile as his arms tighten around my waist, pinning me against him.
揋ot it,?Blair announces. Without looking, I know what moment she captured.
Crew thanks her and we say goodbye before moving farther down the observation deck. I snap a few photos of the view while Crew fiddles with something on his phone.
揇o you not have an Instagram??
揥hat??
揟here抯 a Scarlett Ellsworth, but I seriously doubt you posted this.?He shows me the screen of his phone. It抯 a photo of me walking down the street talking on the phone.
揥hat the hell??I grab his phone and squint at it. The photo got forty-three thousand likes.
Crew takes his phone back. 揝o, no??
揟echnically, I run Haute抯 account, but I have someone who posts content for me.?
He smirks as he types. 揙f course you do. I抦 not tagging a fashion magazine.?
揟agging in what??
揑抦 posting the photo of us.?
I抦 not sure what to say to that. Why? is the only response I can think of. Then I come up with a worse one. 揇oes Hannah Garner follow you??
揑 don抰 know; I抳e never checked. Why??
When I muster the courage to meet his gaze, his eyes are dancing with mirth he抯 not even attempting to hide. 揧ou know why,?I mutter.
He grins. 揥ant me to check? Block her??
揘o.?I start walking toward the exit.
It takes us half the time to walk down the stairs that it did to climb up. Once we抮e back on solid ground, Crew leaves for the restroom. As soon as he抯 out of sight, I open the Instagram app on my phone and search for his name. Despite the fact he抯 only posted a handful of photos, he has millions of followers. The photos are mostly of scenery: Copenhagen and London and New York City. A couple feature the two guys from his bachelor party, Asher and Jeremy. One was taken in Boston; I recognize the bar from college.
And then there抯 the photo of us he just posted. I bite my bottom lip when I see what he wrote as the caption. Exploring Paris with the most beautiful woman in the world. She outshines all the sights.
I scroll down through some of the comments. A good number of them are suggestive ones involving Crew. Those don抰 surprise me. The ones that do are the ones that read gorgeous couple and you guys look so happy and marriage goals. I tap back on the photo, trying to scrutinize the image the way a total stranger would.
We do look happy. We抮e both smiling. I know mine wasn抰 forced, and Crew抯 doesn抰 look like it was either. His arms are wrapped around my middle and his chin is resting on the top of my head. Thriving greenery and stone monuments are obvious in the background behind us. I search his followers and learn Hannah is one of them. A petty part of me is pleased.
揜eady to go??
The sound of his voice startles me. 揧ep.?I slip my phone back into my bag.
揧ou抮e free until dinner??Crew confirms as we cross the lawn and head back toward the street.
揢h-huh.?
揂re you dying to go back to the hotel and do work??
For once, I抦 not. I try not to read into the realization. 揘ot if you make me a better offer.?
Crew shoots me a shocked look that I抦 not certain is entirely exaggerated. 揝omething can trump work for you??