Page 23 of Faking Cinderella
Yeah.
Yeah, I know something about wanting to belong.
Something about wanting to have a family.
“I thought that was you,” Margie says. “You look like your official author photo.”
“That’s actually me.” Lucky puffs his chest. “His assistant booked the photographer for him since he was overdue for new headshots, but he didn’t want to do it, so I grew my hair and beard out and posed for the photo shoot. I make him look good.”
“We’re identical, dumbass,” Decker says.
“Only in the outside stuff. On the inside, my vibesparkles, and that’s what makes your author photos so magic. The camera loves my sparkly vibe. Just like all of the people at that litRPG con loved—never mind.” He looks at me. “Speaking of sparkly vibes, you’re rocking those lavender streaks on your face.”
I blink at him.
It’s a slow, intentional,shut the fuck upblink.
Margie purses her lips together like she’s hiding a smile.
I shift my glare to her.
“What’d you say you used? To make the streaks?” Lucky says to Margie.
“Purple hair dye,” she tells him. “I got the idea off the internet. A girl can’t be too careful, you know? The internet said if you mark the intruders in some way, the police can find them easier later.”
“Wouldn’t have worked against a bear,” I tell her.
She lifts one brow at me like I’ve proven a point.
Shit.
Right.
The man and the bear thing.
She probably would’ve rather a bear broke in last night.
What thefuckis wrong with me? I’m off my game.
“I’m a little sorry about your face this morning.” She says it to me like it’s a confession, and she accompanies it with another smile that would be charming if I wasn’t certain she’s hiding something.
“Just a little? And only about my face?”
“I had a friend once who knew someone who knew someone who said their sister came home to find a guy jacking off in a box of her favorite cereal. You really can’t be too careful these days.”
All three of us stare at her.
“That’s so for real,” Sabrina says as she delivers a cup of hot water to Margie, then sweeps the tea box away. “Totally something Theo would’ve done to Laney back in the days when they hated each other. Maybe. Though that might’ve been too far even for Theo. Maybe. Then again, he did some pretty messed-up stuff…”
Now we all turn to stare at Sabrina, who shrugs, flips two mugs up onto the counter in front of Lucky and Decker, grabs a coffee pot from behind her, and pours for both of them, then disappears again.
Lucky breaks the silence. “Decker should be more sorry about Rhys’s face,” he says to Margie before glancing at me. “If he couldread a calendarandcommunicate, you wouldn’t be wearing hair dye streaks on your face.”
Decker rolls his eyes. “I’m working on a book that happens in May. You know I lose track of shit when I’m in the groove. Especially when I’m writing a book in the wrong season. In my head, the aspens are just getting buds, and then I walk out the door, and they’re turning golden. It’s fucking with me.”
Lucky squints at him like he knows Decker’s fabricating excuses. “I’m pinging Nell.”
Decker groans. “Don’t ping Nell.”
