Damage Control

That wasn't exactly how I imagined spending Saturday afternoon. I was in Aiden's office, staring at the laptop screen and desperately trying to control my rising panic. My moment of madness with Aiden in the Palais des Roses suite ended right after Logan's phone call. We packed and rushed back to New York City. Now I was sitting on the sofa with Logan beside me while Aiden stood by his desk, making his million-and-one call. The video of Aiden carrying me out of the pool was playing on the laptop's screen on repeat, and I just wished that someone had pinched me and woken me up from this nightmare.

I wasn't sure what triggered Aiden's agitation, but I definitely knew why I was about to go frantic. My face was shown clearly in more than a few frames of this video, and of course, so was Aiden's. I couldn't have cared less if there had been only "civilians" who watched that damn clip. I wasn't a celebrity, and even if I had flashed my naked butt straight to the camera, I would have shrugge