Page 68 of Fake it ’Til Fall
Daisy leans over, reads it, and gasps.
“You’re censoring me.”
“I’m saving you.”
“From charm?”
“From yourself.”
“How dare you?”
Puck rests his chin on her boot again.
Daisy looks at him. “Can you believe this?”
“He agrees with me.”
“He is a gentleman and would never.”
“He ate my sock.”
“Allegedly.”
I write under the first note:
Parents care about safety. Donors care about optics. Kids care if you treat them like people.
Daisy goes quiet.
I feel her looking at me.
This time, I don’t look away.
“See?” she says softly. “You know how to do this.”
My hand tightens on the pen.
“Knowing and convincing are different.”
“Good thing I’m excellent at convincing people.”
“You’re excellent at overwhelming them.”
“That too.”
The bell over the door rings. A group of customers comes in laughing, bringing cold air, rain, and the smell of wet wool. Daisy’s phone buzzes on the table.
We both look at it.
MOM.
She flips the phone facedown.
“Look at that,” she says. “Boundaries. Someone call a journalist.”
It buzzes again.
She stares at the phone like it has personally betrayed the feminist movement.
