Page 23 of It's Not All Fake

She nods and manages a smile. “Well, don’t be sorry for all of it.”

What does she mean by that? I wonder if she’s referring to our PDA. I hope she’s not sorry about that part.

I notice she’s wearing a simple silver necklace that draws my eyes to her bare skin, which I enjoyed tasting too much last night.

“You look beautiful,” I say honestly.

“Thank you. I borrowed the outfit.” She shrugs. “Trying to look the part.”

I want to tell her that she doesn’t need to wear other people’s clothes. She doesn’t need to try that hard, or at all. I want to say so many things, but now is not the time. My mother’s waiting.

“Chloe, I already told my mom that we’re a couple,” I explain since we had initially planned to tell her together. “It’s all over the tabloids, so I wanted to make sure she heard it from me first.”

“Oh, I understand,” she says, but then she looks worried. “What did she say?”

I chuckle, thinking of my mother’s reaction. “She’s ridiculously happy, of course.”

Chloe smiles, relieved. She’s sweet—humble—to have any doubt about my mother’s positive reaction. To me, it had always been a sure thing. I knew Chloe was the perfect woman for the job.

“Shall we?”

She nods, grabbing a light cardigan off a nearby armchair as I lead her out of the library. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d brought a cover-up.

She slips it on quickly before we exit the house, and I notice a mix of relief and regret for the obscured view of her sun-kissed skin.

I reclaim her hand and lead her outside onto a steppingstone walkway alongside the house, passing a wall covered in vines. The path is narrow, so Chloe walks behind me as I lead the way. There’s a more direct route to our destination, but I want to buy the staff a little time, just in case they’re still setting up. Besides, this route will give Chloe a more dramatic reveal of our destination.

The walkway ends abruptly at the edge of the house and opens onto the veranda. I’m relieved to see everything arranged beautifully, with no staff members in sight. I’m surprised my mother isn’t out here yet, but I suppose she is taking her time, probably on purpose.

I move out of the way of Chloe’s view, pulling her to stand next to me. I watch as she inhales sharply at the sight before her.

The veranda is a sea of color, filled with buckets and vases overflowing with every type and hue of flower imaginable. It looks like every local flower shop was bought out because those were exactly my instructions.

Chloe stands motionless, her mouth opening in silent awe. I lean closer to her. “I don’t know what your favorite flower is yet,” I explain, “so I got you all of them.”

She looks up at me in disbelief. “These are for me?”

“Of course.” I smile.

She looks puzzled for a moment.

“It’s a beautiful set.” She looks genuinely impressed with my efforts, but she has the wrong idea.

Turning to face her, I explain. “Chloe, the backdrop doesn’t matter to my mother. This isn’t part of the act.”

“Really? Then, why do it?” She looks genuinely confused.

“The giant dick tax, I think,” I tell her, wanting her to understand this is for her, not my mother.

Chloe laughs, the dimple in her right cheek appearing, and I’m relieved to see her smile. With my hand still wrapped around hers, I gently guide her toward the beautifully set table for three in the middle of the sea of flowers. It’s a perfect sunny morning, though fog has settled around the Hollywood hills. Chloe looks amazed by the entire scene, which makes me smile.

“So, what’s your favorite?” I inquire, openly gathering intel.

“If I had to pick, I’d say tulips. I used to plant them in the fall with my mom,” she reveals, and I notice an almost imperceptible hint of sadness pass over her otherwise cheery expression.

I realize I know next to nothing about her family, but I intend to change that when the time is right.

“Chloe!” my mother’s voice calls out behind us. We turn around and she’s rushing toward us with a speed I didn’t know she was capable of.

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