Page 12 of What the Hex

She narrowed her eyes at him, but otherwise ignored his interruption. “We’ll need to call a press conference and release a public statement. We can probably have something ready by the end of the week.”

Storm shrugged. “Now is better.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Bit of a hypocritical question in his opinion, but he didn’t bother pointing that out. “Hear me out. Instead of making a whole thing out of it, if we announce my mating to fans in an intimate, casual setting, it will make them feel like they’re part of it. We get them onboard, then let them convince everyone else on social media.”

It was kind of comical to watch Priya’s expression slowly morph, her features gradually softening and smoothing. After several seconds, she resumed her seat beside him, perching on the edge of the cushion with her legs crossed at the ankles.

“That’s actually kind of brilliant.”

Her surprise wasn’t exactly flattering, but he accepted her backhanded compliment with a short nod.

“The Q&A will be a good opportunity for Damien to offer his support as well,” she added. “I’ll talk to his manager.”

It might sound like she was forcing Damien into the situation, but in reality, she was looking out for him as well. A fact for which he was immeasurably grateful. While he would face the majority of the backlash, his best friend wouldn’t escape unscathed.

There would be questions, speculation, and giving Damien a chance to tell his side of the story was essential. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to please everyone, but that was true of life in general.

Growing up, he’d been taught that certain topics shouldn’t be discussed in public or polite company. It wasn’t until three months into filming his first drama, however, that he’d learned there were innumerable ways to be “problematic.”

In the realm of social media, there were always people ready and willing to berate him for one perceived misdeed or another. There was the group that attacked him for his food choices. Another who railed against his fashion sense. Some hated the sunscreen he used. Others took issue with the way he talked.

It would be all too easy to take those comments to heart and give in to the pressure. It wasn’t logical or practical, however, and frankly, no matter what he did or changed, it would never be enough to make everyone happy.

“Storm?” Taking the hand he had resting on his knee, she cradled it between both of her own. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am.”

“I knew you’d say that.” She sighed, just a small, quiet breath that still managed to speak volumes. “I had to ask, though.”

Sitting up, he moved to the edge of the cushions and angled toward her. “Everything is going to be okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Of course, I’m going to worry about you.” Her pretty, chocolate eyes sparkled, and a smile curved her lips. Then she exhaled sharply and grabbed him by the shoulders to pull him into a fierce embrace. “I really am happy for you.”

Storm closed his eyes and hugged her back. “Thank you, Priya.”

“Okay.” She patted his back, then stood to smooth the wrinkles from her dress. “I need to talk to Sergio,” she added, referring to Damien’s manager. “We should decide on a backup plan in case this all goes to shit.”

He found her pessimism amusing, but he resisted the urge to laugh. “It won’t.”

She side-eyed him with a feminine snort but didn’t comment. “You need to get ready for the fan meet.” Resting her hands on her hips, she finally faced him fully. “You also need to prepare your mate. Don’t you dare let him walk into this blind.”

With a crooked smile, he drew an X over his heart with his index finger.

He and King had spent most of the previous day—and a good portion of the night—discussing various ways to approach the announcement. They’d even gone over possible questions that might be asked, as well as the best ways to respond. As a fan himself, King brought a unique perspective to the conversation, which proved invaluable to their planning.

In essence, he was probably more prepared than Storm was.

“Good.” Priya dipped her head with a note of finality. “I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour for hair and makeup.”

The door had barely closed behind her when his cell phone buzzed on the coffee table with an incoming message. Guessing it was his mate looking for an update, Storm smiled as he reached for the device and pulled up his texts.

KING: How did it go?

STORM: She just left.

KING: I know.