Page 15 of Faking It
“C’mon, there’s no excuse why you can’t leave here tonight with one,” a male voice says followed by a laugh.
“There’s plenty of excuses, mate.” My ears perk up at the sound of the Australian lilt—Zane—and I silently sag in relief feeling like I know
someone here.
Typically, I’m pretty outgoing but walking in here alone and knowing no one has been more intimidating than I anticipated. Maybe it’s because I’ve built up the event to be something bigger than it really is. Or maybe it’s because I was kind of excited to see Zane again regardless of how much he drives me crazy.
And now I’m starting to sound like my mother.
“Fuck your excuses. Aren’t you the one who told me I needed to help you sell this to him? Well, that’s what I’m trying to do. Don’t blame me that you lied and said that you found love on it. We both know that shit doesn’t work.”
“Will you shut the hell up?”
“If you don’t want Robert to know differently, then you better start figuring out how you’re going to fix this.”
“Christ,” Zane mutters.
“He’s not going to help you right now,” the other man jokes, but Zane doesn’t laugh. “But I know who can kiss it and make it all better for you . . .” Jack gestures to the people mingling in the space around them. “I mean look at all the gorgeous women. They’re prime for the picking. Now all you have to do is find the right one.”
Prime for the picking? Seriously? I hope he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.
I look to my right and in one of the lit areas I see Zane—dressed in my kryptonite: a buttoned up vest, slacks, and dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Professional yet casual and way more sexy than I want to admit. The man to his right and facing my direction has dark hair, light eyes, and light brown skin. He’s strikingly handsome as well. Together they look like a Ralph Lauren ad.
“Give it up, Jack.”
Ah, that’s Jack. I should’ve assumed.
“What about that one?”
“Which one?”
“Cream dress. Come fuck me heels.”
“Not my type,” Zane says into his glass as he takes a sip. I hate that I want to see what she looks like to try and figure out what type is his.
“She could be mine, though,” Jack says through a laugh. “Simone, then?”
“Can’t. After promo is over, then I’m all over that . . . but before?” Zane says and chuckles, “that would be unprofessional of me.”
“And if things went south . . .”
“Exactly. It would spell disaster all around.”
“How about her?”
“Legs for days?” Zane lifts his chin toward someone.
“Yeah, her.”
They both angle their head to the left and watch someone for a second. “Nah. She’s not bad . . . she’s just not . . .”
“Good,” Jack finishes for him. “You’re a picky fucker. So then what about the Chrissy Teigen lookalike over there?”
“She came with a date.”
“So? When has that ever stopped you?”
Zane says something I can’t hear and they both laugh.
