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and an email from Nina appeared. I smiled as I read the text.
    “Nina said the pictures are online. Come look at them with me,” I called, swiping the link on my phone.
    After she’d climbed on the couch and nestled beside me, she kissed my cheek. Then she described all ten pictures as tasteful and flirty. I called them honest and real. The title read: RONAN CONNOLLY WHISKS NEW GIRLFRIEND, HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT, OFF TO CABO SAN LUCAS.
    In summary, the article said that I had a new leading lady in my life and I’d swept her off to Cabo San Lucas for a romantic vacation. Details about A London Love Story were cleverly added, and it stated that I’d be shooting my new film soon. There was a tiny blurb about Holliday, which confirmed that we had been spotted out and about the past few weeks in New York City. In an effort to minimize the attention this could bring to her life, Darcy and I had told Nina that she was only allowed to print that Holliday worked at Charlotte Ricchetti Designs and had been living in the city for the past few years.
    “Oh, I personally love the photo of us kissing on the back of the boat, holding hands,” she said softly.
    We both had a good laugh at some of the comments. Others stung a bit.
    RONAN AND HOLLIDAY ARE THE NEW BRAD AND ANGELINA.
    NO, NOT BRANGELINA, THEY ARE THE AMERICAN WILL AND KATE.
    HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT IS BEAUTIFUL, I LOVE HER NAME.
    RONAN CONNOLLY IS QUICKLY REPEATING HIS PAST. #INSTALOVE. #INSTAMISTAKE.
    THAT WAS FAST. IT WON’T LAST WITH SERIAL DATER CONNOLLY.
    HE ONLY DATES MOVIE STARS AND MODELS. THIS WILL BE OVER SOON. NOBODY CARES ABOUT HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT.
    RONAN IS OFF THE MARKET ALREADY? MY LIFE IS OVER.
    DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE THE IRONY HERE? RONAN AND HOLLIDAY— A RONAN HOLLIDAY.
    “Do you see that picture?” She pointed out the scar on her shoulder.
    Yes, that one. The letter “D.” It was clear as day.
    The photo showed her hugging me, and my hand was on the small of her back. Fuck! Why couldn’t I have placed my hand over her scar? I had known damn well that a majority of the pictures would probably be PDA. That was what sold tabloids.
    “Don’t worry,” I said reassuringly, picking my cell phone up. “I can have Nina remove the photo.”
    “Wait,” she replied, grabbing my hand. “There are a ton of comments attached to that particular photo. I think it will raise more suspicion if we have it taken down.”
    “Are you absolutely sure?” I asked, leaving the worry out of my voice. “Because with one phone call—”
    “I should’ve had my cover-up on. I should’ve been more careful, knowing that my name and picture were going to be online, exposed for the whole world to see.” Throwing her hands in the air, she shook her head. “No! I’m done. Done making excuses. It’s fucking stupid.”
    With that, she padded to the bar and poured a drink, knocking the amber liquid back. A thousand thoughts were reeling through my mind, the top one being that she was bravely taking a risk to help me. I prayed that Derek Saunders didn’t read celebrity gossip blogs.
    Holliday stood near the terrace, twirling the ends of her hair—something she did when she was anxious. Silence hung in the salty air, and my heart clenched. I wanted her to live her life free of fear—I didn’t want to trigger more uneasiness. How could I have agreed to this stupid game with the media?
    I was already gambling in a high-stakes game. One wrong move and I risked losing the only woman I had ever loved. My secret plan for Saunders was beginning to fall into place. I could only hope Holliday in no way made the connection.
    “Hey,” I said warmly, but I’d be dammed if I wasn’t interrupted by her cell phone ringing.
    Oddly enough, a few seconds later, mine rang too. It was my sister, Molly. No doubt, she had seen the pictures. For all the whiskey in Ireland, I’d bet she was calling to give me a piece of her mind.
    “Molly. Cheers, dear sister,” I greeted her