Chapter 216
He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of oversized sunglasses, sliding them onto her face with the calm authority of someone who had already decided.
“Incognito mode,” he smirked.
She adjusted the glasses. She felt ridiculous — like they were Bonnie and Clyde. Or perhaps just Clyde and Clyde’s beard.
She sighed and turned to look out the window at the passing city.
Gaston watched her reflection in the glass. She still doesn’t get it. She still thinks this is a game.
𝘈𝘥𝘥𝗶𝖼𝘁𝗶𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝗼𝗏𝗲𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗻 𝗀𝘢𝗅n𝘰v𝗲𝗅ѕ.с𝘰𝗆
He reached over and took her hand. His palm was warm, his grip solid and unhurried.
“Relax, Jocelyn,” he murmured. “Trust me.”
She didn’t pull away. She let him hold her hand.
It felt safe. It felt real. And that was the most terrifying part of all.
The street in SoHo was a chaotic river of humanity — hipsters with oat milk lattes, tourists clutching maps, influencers staging selfies against exposed brick walls.
Gaston held Jocelyn’s hand firmly. “Stay close. Don’t get lost.”
His grip was protective. He walked on the traffic side of the sidewalk, using his body as a shield to block the press of the crowd from reaching her.
They stopped at a booth made of reclaimed wood, its shelves lined with custom leather goods.
“These are nice,” Gaston said, picking up a sleek black phone case.
“We can emboss them on the spot,” the vendor said — a young guy with neck tattoos and a nose ring. “Gold, silver, or blind emboss.”
“Let’s get matching ones,” Gaston suggested.
Jocelyn laughed nervously. “Isn’t that a bit… couple-y?”
“That’s the point,” Gaston murmured. He nodded subtly to the left. “Three o’clock. Guy in the green jacket. Long lens.”
Jocelyn glanced over. Sure enough, a photographer was attempting to hide behind a hot dog cart, his camera barely concealed.
“Oh. Right. The act,” she said, nodding — and feeling a small, unwelcome pang of disappointment. Of course. It’s for the press.
“I want this one,” Gaston said, pointing to the black case.
“And for the lady?” the vendor asked.
“She’ll take the red one,” Gaston decided. “Red suits her.”
“What should I write?” the vendor asked, reaching for the embossing tool.
Gaston leaned in and murmured something in the vendor’s ear.
The vendor grinned. “Bold. I like it.”
While they waited, a group of teenage girls passed by. One spotted Gaston and grabbed her friend’s arm.
“Oh my god, is that Gaston Collins?” she whispered — not very quietly. “He’s so hot.”
“Too bad he’s married,” another sighed.
“And I heard he’s gay,” a third said, not whispering at all. “My cousin said he saw him at a club with a guy.”
Jocelyn stiffened and glanced at Gaston.
He ignored them completely. Instead, he pulled her flush against his front, wrapping both arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on top of her head.
“Ignore them,” he murmured into her hair. “Let them talk.”
The vendor returned with the cases.
“Here you go,” he said, handing them over with an approving look at Gaston. “You’re a lucky man.”
.