Free Web NovelChapter 341: Public Appearance
Franz woke at dawn, the way he always did, no matter how late he’d slept the night before.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the early light. Arianne lay beside him, naked beneath the sheets, her dark hair spread across the pillow. Red marks marred her skin—his doing, from the long night and the longer weekend. They traced across her shoulders, her chest, the curve of her hip. Evidence of the hours they’d spent tangled together while the estate was hushed and the twins were gone.
It had been nearly three in the morning when he’d finally let her rest. She’d been half-asleep already, her voice drowsy, her body pliant under his hands. He’d cleaned her with care, the way he always did, and she’d murmured something unintelligible before sinking into sleep. She hadn’t moved since.
The entire weekend had been just for them. Two days with no interruptions, no twins, no demands for snacks. Arianne had barely left his bed. When they weren’t making love, she’d read emails on her tablet, the screen glowing in the dim room, her fingers moving efficiently as she answered the ones that required her attention. Gio hadn’t looked for her directly but had sent occasional updates. The quarterly assessments were progressing. The board meeting minutes were ready for her review. Everything was handled.
Franz slipped out of bed, letting her sleep. He freshened up in the bathroom—cold water on his face, teeth brushed, hair pulled back—and returned to bed with his phone. The sheets were warm from her body.
Messages from Daryll had arrived overnight. The first batch was about the agency: the required documents for registration, a draft of the business plan, a proposed timeline for the next steps. Franz scrolled through them, making mental notes, flagging items that needed discussion.
The second message made him pause.
Noah Hart had been nominated for Best Actor at the upcoming television awards. The Second Cut, first season—his performance had been recognized. The ceremony was in two weeks. Daryll’s message was characteristically direct: Congratulations. We should discuss attendance. Consider bringing Arianne. Public appearance with her would increase visibility and popularity. Your call.
Franz set the phone down on his chest and stared at the ceiling. The nomination was good news. Better than good, but Daryll’s suggestion required more thought. Bringing Arianne to an awards ceremony meant cameras. Red carpets. Questions about their relationship that neither of them had fully answered in public. He’d discuss it with her when she woke. Whatever she decided, he would follow.
Around seven, his phone buzzed again. A message from his mother. Amanda had sent a photo: the twins in her kitchen, already in their pajamas, helping make breakfast. Lily was arranging bread slices on a plate, her tongue poking out in concentration. Leo stood beside her, spreading jam with the intense focus he usually reserved for his drawings. The whale was visible on the counter behind them, propped against the fruit bowl.
Franz smiled. He saved the photo immediately. He’d show Arianne later.
He busied himself reviewing the documents Daryll had sent while he waited for her to wake. The agency was taking shape on paper—legal structures, financial projections, a timeline that stretched across the coming months. It was theoretical, fragile, but it was becoming real.
–
Arianne woke near lunchtime.
She sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist, and let out a low groan. Her body ached in ways that were entirely Franz’s fault. The red marks from the weekend had darkened into bruises along her collarbone. She pressed her fingers to one absently, noticing the soreness, and then swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Franz was gone. The bathroom door was open, the light off. She could hear sounds from downstairs: voices, the clatter of pans.
She bathed quickly, the hot water easing the ache in her muscles. She dressed in comfortable clothes, soft trousers and a sweater that had been Franz’s but had somehow migrated to her drawer. She didn’t examine the migration. It had happened gradually, the way all boundaries between them had gradually dissolved.
She found him in the kitchen.
He was standing at the stove with Aunt Estella beside him, a pan of oil sizzling in front of him. A tray of tempura vegetables sat on the counter, sweet potato, broccoli, shrimp, some of them golden and crisp, others a shade darker than they should be. As she watched, he dropped a piece of battered sweet potato into the oil and jumped back when it sizzled and spat.
"Too much batter," Aunt Estella said calmly. "Shake off the excess before you drop it in."
"I did shake it."
"Shake it more."
Arianne took a seat at the counter. "What are you doing?"
Franz turned. His hair was tied back, but a few strands had escaped and were sticking to his forehead. He looked mildly harassed but determined.
"Cooking lessons. I don’t want the twins to tease me about burning food anymore. Lily brought up the pancake incident last week. It was unforgettable"
"It was unforgettable. The smoke alarm went off for twenty minutes."
"That was the pan’s fault."
"Aunt Estella said it wasn’t."
"Aunt Estella was being diplomatic."
Aunt Estella laughed. "Cooking is a survival skill. Everyone should learn. Even actors." She guided his hand, showing him how to turn the tempura in the oil. "Wait until golden. Don’t rush. The oil knows what it’s doing."
Franz obeyed, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked, Arianne thought, the way Leo looked when he was drawing, completely absorbed, deeply intent, taking the task far more seriously than it probably warranted.
Aunt Estella wiped her hands on her apron and turned to Franz. "Will you be getting the twins from your father’s estate this afternoon?"
"Yes. In a few hours." He glanced at Arianne. "Would you like to come? You don’t have to. I know you have work—"
"I’ll come. I have something to discuss with your father anyway."
Aunt Estella nodded approvingly and excused herself, leaving the kitchen in Franz’s hands. The tempura was done. He plated it, arranging the pieces the way Aunt Estella had shown him.
"The nomination," Arianne said. "I saw the message on your phone. Congratulations."
"You looked at my phone?" he asked. Not that he was bothered by it. There isn’t anything he should hide from her anyway.
"It was on the nightstand. The screen was visible." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
"That’s still looking."
"You left it open next to my head. It was unavoidable." She picked up a piece of tempura and bit into it. It was good. Slightly over-browned, but good. "What did Daryll say about the ceremony?"
"He suggested I bring you. Public appearance. Visibility. Popularity." Franz leaned against the counter. "I told him I’d discuss it with you first."
"And what do you think?"
"I think I’d like you there. But I understand if you don’t want the attention. There will be cameras. Questions. Speculation about our relationship."
"There’s already speculation about our relationship."
"I know. But this would be different."
Arianne considered. She took another bite of tempura. "When is it?"
"Two weeks."
"Will you win?"
"I don’t know. The other nominees are strong."
"That’s not what I asked."
He smiled. "I think I have a chance."
"Then I’ll be there. If you want me there, I’ll be there."
