Page 2 of Faking It
“You taught me well.”
“Listen,” Arrogant Aussie says, “no matter how we play it, mate, I need to act like I’ve been through the gamut.”
“You mean you have to pretend like you found love through this shit?” the other voice asks followed by a chuckle.
“Jack. I love you, you’re my best mate, but you’re going to fuck this up for me if you don’t pretend to at least be able to keep your johnson in your pants.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” Jack says as I shift on my feet, suddenly uncomfortable at overhearing this conversation. “I mean, you’re serving up hot chicks on a platter and you’re not expecting me to sample?”
“They’re on a server, a database, not a platter. And it’s a matchmaking site, not an escort service. Let’s make sure we don’t refer to it that way when we get Robert on the call.”
“You’re such a buzzkill, Zane.” Arrogant Aussie now has a name. “Are you telling me you haven’t been enjoying the perks?”
“But perks are better enjoyed on the side and out of sight, aye. Besides… love? C’mon, now. It’s me we’re talking about.” Sounds like a real winner and just like I pegged him to be when I saw him in the elevator. “Look Jack, I need Robert’s investment. The money’s not so much the issue—capital I’ve got—but it’s his connections that I need to help launch this properly. With his background and history in launching other major dating sites, he’s the man I need to help me. Besides, he’s told me he’s in love with the platform and has grand plans on how to make the platform noticed from the get go. Failure is not an option.”
“Then don’t fuck this up.” Jack’s laugh is sarcastic and the sigh I hear from Zane says it’s not welcome.
“That’s the plan.” A chair creeks. A cabinet shuts. I feel like a voyeur. Should I leave without telling him his dog is here? Should I wait?
“Look, in all seriousness, Robert is madly in love with love. He lost his wife of sixty years to cancer last year. They had that fairytale type of shit. High school sweethearts. Perfect marriage.”
“So he doesn’t get us?” Jack asks as they both laugh.
“No . . . love is shit.”
“Says the man who’s in love with himself.”
Nailed that one on the head.
“Asshole.”
“Prick,” he says like this is a normal exchange.
“Do me a favor Jacko,” Zane says, his tone becoming serious.
“Anything.”
“I need this to work. More than you know. You helped with the introduction. Since then I’ve been busy jumping through hoops to prove to Robert that this is the right company to put his weight behind. I even promised him to narrow down the spokesperson auditions to five so he could help with the final decision at the party on Friday.”
“Such a hard job. Do you get to vet the women in all aspects of their performance?” Jack asks.
Zane’s chuckle reverberates off the walls and makes me roll my eyes. Gotta love the male bravado. “No vetting. And no touching either. Keep it zipped and don’t fuck this up for me. Robert’s already hinted that he doesn’t think I’m committed enough to run the company properly. I have to prove to him that I am.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”
I’ve heard enough. And even worse, I’ve been standing here so caught up in listening to this discussion between assholes that I lost track of time.
And then it hits me. How much time have I been standing here? How much time have I wasted listening to egos inflate? When I look at my watch, I freak.
My interview.
There goes all my thoughts of chewing Zane out for assuming that any female walking by is there to do his biding . . . and all I can think about is my empty bank account and the job interview waiting for me in suite three hundred eighteen.
Crap on a cracker!
I drop the leash on the desk with a thud and rush out of the office trying to straighten my clothes as best as possible and remove any visible dog slobber or fur.
I’m out of breath when I shove my heel on, barge through the office door of suite three hundred and thirteen on uneven balance, and move to the receptionist’s desk.
