I always felt comfortable with a pen in my hand. It meant I was writing something. And for me, writing was everything. It was a safety net that highlighted who I was. If a pen could be a spirit animal, that was mine.

But as I stared down at a contract filled with legal jargon I didn't understand, with eyes and cameras watching my hand as it hovered over the dotted line, I suddenly hated the pen.

My hand was sweaty. Can the cameras see that? I hope those are low-resolution cameras so they will miss the ketchup stain on my pants. I couldn't rely on Aiden to catch every potential ketchup stain, or he'd never be off the clock.

I had brought a cardigan with me in the car, which made my "running errands" outfit look somewhat presentable for signing the biggest deal of my life. Well, at least it hid my "Get Your Groove On," t-shirt I wore under it. Overall, I was a casual mess but I had refused to leave the pier early enough to change before heading to the studio. Instead, I had thrown my hair up into a casual messy bun and decided that wearing comfortable clothes was the only way I would survive the event.

I didn't realize how many people would be there until I had walked inside, Aiden a step behind me and several cameras flashed, startling me and nearly causing me to trip backward and land on my butt. But Aiden, like a ninja, had steadied me and after a moment of confused blinking, I managed to make it to the large oak table where the signing was being held.

I stared down at my name for what felt like the eighth time, in awe. sat in bold at the bottom of the document next to .

After a deep breath, I reached down and signed my name, and was rewarded with cheers and more blinding flashes. I had done it. Seapunk Princess was going to be made into a movie. Sanders was the first one to reach my side, her smile wide and proud.

"See! That wasn't so bad! You did great!"

I offered her a weak smile, "why didn't you tell me about this?" I whispered quietly, trying to hide my irritation. I hadn't been able to get a word in with her before the signing and I was going to take advantage of my moment. "I was blindsided at a bookstore."

Her smile turned sheepish. "I know, I know. Someone on their marketing team leaked the news early. I didn't even know until a few minutes before you walked into that bookstore." She gripped my hands in hers, her touch gentle. "I'm so sorry Laliana. That must have been terrifying."

I relaxed, relieved that she was just as shocked as I had been. A part of me had worried that she had known and kept it from me. "It was." I looked around and smiled back at her, "I can't believe this is real."

She laughed. "Now don't go getting all dumbstruck like you do whenever you see your face on a book cover. You better get used to it. This is just the start. And we have A LOT of work to do."

"Ms. Summers," a tall man in his forties, with pale blond hair, beady eyes and a slight villain energy held out his hand, interrupting our conversation. I tried not to wince as we shook hands. His grip was tight, making the bones in my hand crash into each other in an unnatural way. That's not normal.

"Mr. West," he said, introducing himself as he let my now bruised hand go. "We have a few things to discuss in regards to the next steps in the process as we go into pre-production for this movie."

He motioned for Sanders and me to sit at the large oak table as the press and other employees that apparently I didn't need to meet were ushered from the room. Moving to the other side of the large table, Mr. West held up a large black folder and pushed it across the table towards us.

"Now I know you are both busy, so I will jump right into it." When I stared back at him, waiting for the somewhat villainous-looking Mr. West to continue, he motioned for me to look at the contents of the folder.

I opened it to the top page and stared back up at him, shocked. "What is this?" I whispered.

"Photos," he answered as if it were a stupid question.

"I can see that, but why do you have these?"

Mr. West wove his fingers together and placed his elbows on the table. "We confiscated them from several tabloids that wanted to run a story on you."

I stared down at a picture of me with Tate at the grocery store. I was adjusting a can in his arms, but the angle made it look like I was leaning in for a kiss. I would have laughed if the idea of someone creeping in on me at a grocery store wasn't so infuriating.

The next picture sent a chill down my spine. It was a picture of Aiden and me. We stood on the pier, hours before, his hands pulling his suit jacket around my shoulders. His back was to the camera, but my face was in clear view. And I was smiling up at him, beaming like an idiot. Gosh, you'd have to be blind to miss how attracted to him I am in this picture.

"So, me going to a grocery store and someone lending me their jacket is supposed to be enough to inspire a trashy story?" I asked, more insulted than anything. Who cares how I spend my time? These people must not have a lot of celebrities to follow right now.

I didn't dare look over at Aiden who stood on the other side of the room by the door. I didn't want Mr. West to know who the man was. He was beginning to give me creeper vibes. "This industry can be quite... cutthroat Ms. Summers. And although you are an author, you have been placed in a unique position."

His dramatic nature was irritating. It was taking him too long to get to the point of the conversation. For someone who began it with 'I know you are both busy,' he certainly enjoyed taking his time. "You write stories of love, adventure, and revenge."

Oh good, you've read my books, I nearly blurted. But I had enough common sense to keep my mouth shut. It was not the time to be sassy.

"Most authors can go their entire lives without being recognized, but your fans are quite taken with you." I stared down at the table, remembering my fans chasing me out of the bookstore in a frenzy.

"Your age and your lack of romantic attachments are inspiring your followers to read into everything you do and that can be a risky investment to those who want to work with you." He motioned to the pictures. "Which is why we came up with the relationship clause."

The world stopped. "I'm sorry?"

Sanders answered, surprising me. "Mr. West is just trying to explain why a clause has been added to your contract."

"I understand that," I said, my calm leaving. "What I don't understand is what a relationship clause is."

Mr. West smiled like one would at a small child who knew very little about life. It was a condescending smile that made me want to prove him right by launching across the table like an ill-behaved child and slap him across the face. "This particular relationship clause states that while the first movie is being made, you will enter into a contractual relationship with someone."

He waved his hand casually like he was discussing the color of the walls in the room and not like someone who was talking about romantic prospects being forced upon me. "You will remain in said romantic relationship until after the movie is out."

"I don't want that," I said turning to Sanders, panic setting in.

Sanders refused to look at me. Her eyes stayed on Mr. West who spoke again. "But you've already signed the contract Ms. Summers." I found it hard to breathe. "If you had a problem with it, you should have read the fine print and brought it to our attention."

I glared at Sanders. "You knew I would never want this."

She finally turned to look at me, a tight smile on her face. "Which is why I didn't tell you."

And there it was. The air left the room as realization hit. I had lost my ability to go places alone. To sleep without fear and now I had lost my ability to choose who I would date. Who I wanted to spend time with. It would all be an act. A fake relationship was the last thing I wanted. It was the last thing I needed.

"Sanders, why?" I said, my voice breaking on the last word. I had never felt so betrayed. And by the person who was supposed to be on my side.

"Because this is the best thing for you. You need to trust me on this." Her brown eyes were apologetic, but the set of her jaw told me there was no point in arguing. "It's not for forever Laliana. You'll do great."

"These relationships are quite normal," Mr. West insisted. "In fact, if you will look further into the folder you will see our top recommended candidates. They are all other celebrities doing well in their fields. Musicians, artists, actors, etc."

I stood up, too stunned to speak. Sanders stood up too, most likely to make us look like a united front. "We will let you know our pick by Friday," Sanders said before reaching across the table to shake Mr. West's hand. "Thank you for your time."

"Of course. Always a pleasure to work with you Sanders," Mr. West replied, his smile looking strange on his sharp features, like a shark, trying to look friendly. It was all wrong.

Then he turned to look at me. "Welcome to the InternationalSisters family. We are looking forward to watching you and your story blossom."

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Okay, the real question, how do you think YOU would do in a fake relationship?