Chapter 2 Dangerous Distance

# Chapter 2: Dangerous Distance

The headline blared from Wynne's tablet screen: "PERRY'S NEW PASSION: TECH TITAN FINDS LOVE WITH CRISIS QUEEN." Below it, a series of photographs showed Magnus guiding her into La Grenouille, his hand placed possessively at the small of her back. Another captured their silhouettes through the restaurant's window, heads inclined toward each other in what appeared to be intimate conversation.

What the camera hadn't captured was their actual discussion about the quarterly earnings report and media strategy for the upcoming shareholders' meeting.

"Well, that was fast," Wynne muttered, scrolling through the article as her Uber navigated morning traffic toward Perry Group headquarters. Three weeks into their arrangement, and already the gossip mill had elevated their staged outings to "whirlwind romance" status.

Her phone chimed with a text from her assistant: "Social media mentions up 3000% overnight. #MagnusAndWynne trending."

Wynne sighed. She'd expected coverage, but not this level of interest. Magnus Perry rarely featured in gossip columns despite his wealth and position—his dating history was notable for its brevity and discretion. Which made their "relationship" all the more newsworthy, apparently.

Lydia met her at the elevator, tablet in hand. "He's seen it," she said without preamble. "Conference room three. Crisis management team is waiting."

"Crisis? It's just tabloid nonsense."

Lydia's perfectly penciled eyebrow arched. "The stock jumped seven points at opening bell. Board wants to capitalize."

The conference room buzzed with energy as marketing executives debated how to leverage the publicity. Wynne slipped into an empty chair, noting Magnus's absence. The Chief Marketing Officer was mid-presentation.

"—perfect timing with the Paris expansion. We're thinking exclusive interview with Vanity Fair, carefully controlled—"

"No interviews," Wynne interrupted. "That's not part of the agreement."

The room fell silent as everyone turned toward her.

"Ms. Valdez," the CMO said stiffly, "this relationship presents a unique branding opportunity—"

"It's not a branding opportunity," she corrected. "It's a private arrangement with specific parameters."

"Parameters that benefit this company," came Magnus's voice from the doorway. He entered with characteristic efficiency, taking the seat at the head of the table. "But Ms. Valdez is right. No interviews."

The meeting continued with revised strategies that Wynne half-listened to, distracted by Magnus's unexpected support. When the room finally cleared, he remained, eyes on his tablet.

"Thank you," she said, "for respecting the boundaries."

"I drafted them," he replied simply, still not looking up. "The car will collect you at seven. Board dinner at The Pierre."

She nodded, gathering her notes. "I've cleared my schedule."

"Wear something impressive. The Japanese investors will be there."

Wynne paused at the door. "I don't actually need fashion advice, Magnus."

For a moment, his eyes met hers, something unreadable flickering across his face before he nodded once. "Of course not."

---

The Perry Group offices emptied by nine each evening, but the executive floor lights often burned until midnight. Wynne had taken to working late, using the quiet hours to catch up on her actual clients—the contractual exclusivity with Perry Group only applied to crisis work, not her entire portfolio.

Tonight, she needed financial projections from Magnus for a joint press release. His office was dark, but she knew his password from their shared communications protocol.

The desktop illuminated with the Perry Group logo. She quickly located the financial folder and was about to close the system when an anomaly caught her eye—a folder labeled simply "WV" tucked into a subfolder of encrypted files.

Her initials.

Wynne hesitated. This was beyond professional boundaries, yet...

A sound in the hallway made her decision. She closed the system quickly, heart racing as security made their rounds. The existence of that folder nagged at her as she gathered her things to leave.

Why would Magnus have an encrypted folder with her initials?

---

The annual Perry Group gala transformed the New York Public Library into a showcase of understated opulence. As Magnus's "girlfriend," Wynne found herself at the center of attention, graciously deflecting personal questions while steering conversations toward the company's philanthropic initiatives.

"You're quite good at this," Magnus murmured as they circulated among guests. "Almost too good."

"Should I be more awkward?" she whispered back, smiling for the benefit of watching board members.

"No, just—" He stopped abruptly as a waiter passed with champagne. "That's the wrong vintage. We specified the 2008."

Wynne placed a gentle hand on his arm. "No one will notice but you."

"I notice," he replied, but his tension visibly eased at her touch.

As the evening progressed, Wynne became aware of curious glances and whispered conversations that ceased when she approached. Even the staff seemed to be watching them with unusual interest.

During dinner, she finally understood why.

Magnus arrived at their table after a brief absence, and Wynne blinked in surprise. His burgundy tie perfectly matched the deep wine color of her gown—a vintage piece she'd found in a small boutique last week. The coordination was so precise it seemed planned.

"Did Lydia tell you what I was wearing?" she asked quietly as he took his seat.

His brow furrowed slightly. "No. Why?"

Before she could respond, the chairman's wife leaned over. "You two are just adorable with your matching outfits. Magnus never coordinated with anyone before."

Magnus glanced between his tie and Wynne's dress, genuine surprise registering on his face. "Coincidence," he said flatly.

Later, as they moved toward the dance floor for the obligatory first dance as hosts, Lydia appeared at Wynne's side with a glass of water.

"Your favorite, sparkling with lemon," she said, handing it to Wynne. "He had the bar stock it specially."

"Magnus did?" Wynne asked, startled.

Lydia's perfectly composed face revealed nothing, but her eyes held meaning Wynne couldn't decipher. "Yes. Quite unusual, actually. The CEO never remembers his partner's preferences."

Before Wynne could question further, Magnus's hand found the small of her back, guiding her onto the dance floor. His touch was light but certain as they moved to the orchestra's waltz.

"Everyone's watching," she murmured, conscious of hundreds of eyes tracking their every move.

"Let them," he replied, his voice low. "It's working, isn't it? The board is satisfied, investors are confident."

"And yet you seem tense."

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Three reporters asked if we're moving in together."

"What did you tell them?"

"That my personal life remains private despite appearances to the contrary."

They turned gracefully as the music swelled. Magnus was an impeccable dancer, maintaining perfect form while keeping appropriate distance between them.

"This arrangement," he continued, "is becoming more complicated than anticipated."

"Having second thoughts?" she asked, surprised by the twinge of—something—she felt at the possibility.

"No." His answer came quickly. "But expectations are... escalating. We may need to adjust our strategy."

The music ended, and Magnus stepped back with practiced precision. For a moment, his hand lingered at her waist, then withdrew as applause filled the room.

"We'll discuss it later," he said, his public smile returning as photographers captured their image.

The flash of cameras illuminated them in momentary brightness, preserving the careful distance between them even as the world saw only what it wanted to see—a powerful man and the woman who had supposedly captured his interest.

But as they separated to mingle with guests, Wynne couldn't shake two unsettling questions: Why did Magnus have a folder with her initials hidden on his computer? And why had he bothered to memorize how she took her water when nothing in their contract required such attention to personal detail?

The dangerous distance between their public persona and private reality seemed to be shrinking, and Wynne wasn't sure which side was encroaching on the other.