Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
But what?
As we sway, he parts his lips, and says, “That was…a wild day.”
“It was. And you have been the best fake boyfriend ever. So thank you.”
He tenses for a second or two. Maybe more. Then he presses a kiss to my forehead, his voice tight as he says, “You deserve everything.”
But what I want most is you. And I want so badly for him to ask me to stay the night at his place. Just one more night where we’re together.
But his motivation to fake date me is gone.
And now my heart is breaking for real.
It’s shattered in a fresh and painful way, so much worse than when I was dumped on a Jumbotron.
This time, I ache everywhere.
I keep those thoughts locked up, where they’re safe.
52
THE TIME I WENT ON TOUR
REMY
I peel off my maid of honor dress before midnight and hang it up in the closet, finding just the right spot, then running a hand down it since I don’t want to let go of it.
I miss Lake so much. But I have to move on.
Turning around, I tug on a T-shirt and leggings, but I don’t get into bed.
I get to work.
I worked after Jameson broke up with me publicly.
This time, though, I don’t need work for a hideout. I need it for a future. I stay up late, researching, outlining, planning.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and this PowerPoint won’t be either.
But I can start a new foundation, even while this missing burrows under my skin.
* * *
I’m a bit of a broken record, but I have to answer for the con job. The next day I sit across from Daniel at lunch at Happy Cow, a restaurant in Hayes Valley, and say the words that might as well be tattooed on my tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Daniel drags a hand through his sleek hair and laughs. It sounds self-deprecating. “I gotta say, I have a pretty good bullshit detector, and I didn’t see that coming.”
Yeah, I thought it was going to be real too. “I should have told you. As a friend. Not just as a boss,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to produce so many mea culpas, but knowing that’s the price I have to pay.
He holds up a hand. “Actually, you don’t need to tell me if it’s fake or real as a boss. That’s not really anyone’s business at work. But you’re right. I think of you as a friend, and I feel a little misled.”
I take that on the chin. “That’s fair. I understand,” I say, folding and unfolding the napkin on the table.
“Make that a lot,” he admits quietly, his brow knitting. “I was rooting for you two. As a couple, I felt like every time we talked about it, we were…” He sighs, his mouth turned down, “Speaking the same language. I gave you advice. I wanted to see it work out for you because I care about you. I asked how it was going as a friend.”
His disappointment is the sharp edge of a knife. I let so many people down. “I know. And it probably doesn’t matter that it felt like I was speaking the truth. Since even though it started as fake, it became real for me.”
“Oh, Remy,” he says, shifting gears, his voice filled with sympathy. “That’s rough.”
But this meeting isn’t about him feeling bad for me. My throat tightens and tears prick the back of my eyes, but I hold my head up high, choosing honesty over perfect appearances. “I could’ve told you the truth. I don’t have an excuse, except that it was fake and we were trying to make sure nobody would find out. I was going to tell you all this the other day, including that I had feelings for him, but I didn’t, so my intentions don’t really matter.”
“I get it. Love is…hard. Really hard.”
A mirthless laugh escapes me. “It honestly is.”
There’s a pause, heavy, uncomfortable, as servers circulate around the table, depositing plates of pasta and sandwiches and taking orders. Doing all these normal things, while I try to claw my way out of a hole that I shoveled myself into.
“I guess we should still talk about the job though,” he says, but his voice sounds flat. This lunch feels obligatory. Daniel is a man of his word. He promised he’d talk to me about the full-time position and he’s doing just that. That doesn’t mean I’m going to get the job. Or keep mine.
Still, he’s here, and the floor is mine. “I’d like to be considered for it,” I say, because you can’t always clean up your messes before people see them. Sometimes you clean them up in front of other people. “I understand you probably aren’t even considering me now, but I want you to know I’ve already put together all the concepts for the Hockey Is for Everyone initiative. I finished it last night.”