Page 27 of Faking It
“Perhaps, but just like the secret stash of candy I loaded in your backpack, I needed to make sure you were prepared.”
“There will be food on the bus, you know.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “But I also know I’m going to miss you and this is my little way of letting you know.”
I hated that tears burned my eyes, but I knew that if I let them show, she’d be more worried about me than she was already feigning not to be. “I’m going to be perfectly fine.”
“Of course you are. You’re my girl.”
“And I’m going to miss you more than you know.”
“Nonsense. You’re going to have so much fun.” When that dreamy smile of hers ghosted over her lips, I leveled her with a glare.
“Stop it. Nothing is going to happen. He’s my boss. He’s still a jerk—”
“A jerk who gave you an incredible job,” she corrected. “Kind of like a prince swooping in to save the day.”
“Now I’ve heard it all,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “Let’s hope while I’m gone you find a man yourself so you can stop dreaming up fairytales about my life and make them about your own instead.” I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. We both sniffled but pretended we didn’t. “It’s just work. That’s all.”
“It’ll be work, but it’ll be fun.”
It’ll be work, but it’ll be fun.
My mom’s words from our conversation earlier today replay in my head as I suck in a deep breath to manage the nerves buzzing through me.
I can put my body on display in lingerie. Walk a catwalk without flinching or meeting a single person’s eyes. But there is something about the people staring at me—not the clothes I’m tasked with showing off—that make it feel like they’re closer, more real.
It’s just the first event jitters. Night one and fifty-ish more to go. At least we’re still in Los Angeles. My home turf where there are a few familiar faces out in the crowd—all wondering no doubt when exactly I hooked up and became the girlfriend of Zane Phillips.
Because with the launch of the ad campaign came curiosity from the public along with the media’s scrutinous attention. How did the entrepreneur and quasi-playboy known for hanging with the Hollywood it crowd suddenly go from single-and- ready-to mingle to smitten and monogamous?
The audience laughs and brings me back, settling my nerves.
Time to earn my money and convince those who know me best that I really am in love with him. If I can pull this off, then the rest of the trip will be a breeze.
“Why is SoulM8 different?” Zane asks the audience before sliding a hand around my waist, pulling me against him, and planting a chaste kiss to the side of my head as if it were the most natural action in the world. “Because it works.”
A muffled laugh goes through the audience and I fight my own instinct to stiffen when he touches me.
Play the part, Low.
“Such a man thing to say,” I say through a chuckle and pat his cheek before turning back to the audience. The theater is a good size but the feel is intimate. I can see the faces of the people in attendance. Men and women alike dressed in business attire, expressions intrigued, body language engaged, hope of finding their soul mate in this hectic world sparkling in their eyes.
“Would you want me any other way?” Our eyes meet and for the briefest of moments, I acknowledge to myself that I was wrong.
The man can definitely sell.
He’s even selling me.
“Of course not, but we need to explain to these people why it worked. Why it’s different than the other platforms out there promising to find them love. How it could make an unattainable bachelor such as yourself decide to try it in the first place.”
“Unattainable?” he plays off of me and does so perfectly.
“Keep the ego in check, Phillips. We need space for the rest of the people in the room.”
The audience chuckles.
“She loves me. Can’t you tell?” A playful tap on my ass to continue the ruse.
