Page 53 of Hard to Fake

I’m ready to hang up when she adds, “Brooke, would you stay on the line with me?"

The others click off, and it's just the two of us.

"Listen, I'm not sure how to say things so I’ll just say it.” Her thick lash extensions blink. “I’m bringing Kevin to the reunion.”

“I see.” I don’t let on that I already knew, but I’m glad I did.

“I know you dated for two years”—four, actually—“and you were completely obsessed with him. I don't want it to be weird."

My brows lift. "I was never obsessed with him, Caroline. We grew up together, and it ended.”

In truth, the idea of the two of them makes me slightly nauseated, but I’m not about to admit it.

Her lips pinch together, and she plays with her hair. “I think it’s getting serious, or I wouldn’t bring him. Because sisterhood comes first.”

“Great,” I say. “Just so we’re clear, I’m speaking to Elise about her brand sponsorship.”

“You are?”

“I know you’re probably in the running too, but you’d care way too much about sisterhood to let this get in the way.”

Caroline nods, but I see the doubt in her eyes. “We don't need any drama during the reunion."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle seeing my ex.”

She smiles. "I know you can. No matter what mess you land in, you bounce right back.”

My hand forms a fist, manicured nails digging into my palm.

She’s talking about what happened at the end of junior year.

"Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” I ask tightly.

She shakes her head. "No, I think that's everything. Thanks again, Brooke. You're a lifesaver."

“Miles and I will see you at the reunion.”

"You mean Miles Garrett, that basketball player you had a crush on through college?”

My finger hovers over the “Call End” button.

“When you were dating Kevin,” she goes on slyly, “we always thought you secretly liked Miles."

Surprise jolts me. “He was in the NBA when we were in school.”

“Sure, but he used to come around.” She laughs, a tinkling sound. "Don't get your panties in a twist. It’s cute you’re still chasing after Miles after all these years. Why haven’t I seen any pictures of you?”

“We’re keeping it on the down-low.”

Her slow smile is predatory. “Maybe there’s something to jocks after all. I mean, they get a free ride through school, and they don’t even have to get good grades.”

My fingers brush one of the piles of clothes and land on the Louboutins Miles had fixed for me.

“Seems to me that while most people we knew were milking family contacts or popping pills to get into law school, Miles figured out how to make millions a year with his hands.” I turn the shoe between my fingers. “They’re big hands too. Compared to every guy I’ve dated before, he definitely has enormous… hands. I’ll see you at the reunion,” I say breezily, ending the call.

Her pretty face freezes in a satisfying O before the image disappears.

That was a load of performative bullshit. But I’m most annoyed over her dig about Miles. He’s smart and funny and kind and talented, and he gets what’s important. More than most of the guys I went to school with. Definitely more than Kevin.

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