Page 73 of Second Down Fake

“That’s not what I said.”

“I understood what you meant.” I sighed, raking a hand through my hair. “So, is that a no forever or a no for now?”

“It’s not a no.” Her mossy green eyes met mine, and she smiled shyly. “It’s a not right now. A deferment.”

“Until…” I prodded. "

“Ask again, once the contract is over.”

TWENTY-FOUR

CASSANDRA

What happened in Vegas should have stayed in Vegas.

“Ollie?” I asked a harried-looking man in a business suit, gesturing down to the chunky corgi running circles around him.

The man handed over the leash, phone glued to his ear.

“Yeah. I’m heading in. No, I don’t have that paperwork yet. Give me a minute,” he barked to the person on the other end of the line. “This is Ollie. He needs at least three miles, or he’ll whine through my two o’clock meeting. Just text when you’re back.”

Without another word, the man turned and walked back into the office building.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Ollie.” I patted the pup on the head and took off down the street.

Playing Diego’s fake girlfriend definitely had its perks. Night club openings, free booze, the occasional box seat with catered meals, but it didn’t pay the rent. Or the utilities, rather. Becca would pay if I called, but she’d also give me a long speech about responsibility that would nicely dovetail into her second favorite person to worry about, Diego, and my distracting presence in his life.

Increasingly distracting presence based on the conversation we’d had the week before.

So, I’d fired up a dog walking app I’d relied on in Boston and taken a few clients. Mostly business professionals whose pandemic puppies now trawled office floors and needed to be taken out at regular intervals. It was an easy gig, and during business hours when the boredom of being alone in an apartment got to me, I could at least make a couple of bucks.

I pressed play on an audiobook and aimed us toward the tourist district, eager to distract myself from the football game in Cleveland.

Diego wanted me in the stadium, but with Lena staying in Norwalk for the weekend and utility bills looming, I offered to housesit instead. Las Vegas had shaken my resolve that I could even fulfill the contract.

Diego was a born flirt. Hell, so was I, and had we continued to teeter on the line between friendship and sex, I probably could have ridden out the season, moved back to Boston or New Hampshire or wherever I wanted to go next with a good story and an intact heart. But now…well, I excelled at complicating things. At attracting the wrong man at the wrong time, even if he didn’t realize it.

A jaunty chime interrupted the audiobook I wasn’t listening to. I pressed the side of my earphone to accept the call.

“Oh, you’re answering your phone now?” Becca barked before I had a chance to greet her.

I grimaced. “Hey, sister.”

“Don’t you, ‘hey sister’ me, Cassie. You’ve been dodging my calls.”

“Not dodging your calls.” I tugged on Ollie’s leash, preventing him from running away from a woman with a fearsome duo of Pomeranians. “You seemed upset last time we talked, and I wanted to give you room to process.”

“Room to process?” she barked out a laugh. “Coward. How was Las Vegas?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. She didn’t know. Couldn’t know. But a wave of guilt hit me, anyway. “Nice.”

“Nice?” Becca paused as I turned down a side street, navigating through a pack of tourists. “That’s it? Nice?”

“Fun,” I offered instead. Telling Becca I slept with Diego would be on par with announcing I’d become a sovereign citizen or a flat-earther. She’d fly down to Norwalk for a wellness check. “I went to a couple of shows and an art exhibit. The game was…a game. The Breakers won, so I guess that’s good.”

“Better than good,” Becca sighed. “They’ve really got a shot at the Super Bowl this year. Everything is clicking, and Diego looks fantastic.”

A hint of regret laced her voice. “Everything good in New England?”

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