Page 30 of It's Not All Fake

I slam the door and lock it quickly, leaning my arm against the door to avoid collapsing. Angry tears stream down my face as I press my forehead against the back of my hand and try to calm myself.

“Oh my God, Chloe.” Ashley rushes over to me, smoothing her hand over my back. I shake my head.

Lucas is a monster.

And I don’t want to think about monsters. I desperately want to change the channel.

“Just pour the wine, okay?” I stand up straight and wipe the moisture off my face. I’ll be damned if girls’ night is ruined.

“Of course, just tell me what you need.” Ashley gives me a squeeze as we head back to the couch.

“Can we just watch a chick flick?” I ask, my voice wavering as I struggle to calm down from crying. Ashley agrees and throws the blanket over my lap as she clicks on the TV. I know Ashley still has a million questions and concerns about my relationship with Liam, but I need a break from the interrogation.

I just want to forget everything else and fantasize about a good man who kisses the girl in the rain.

Or buys her an entire field of flowers.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LIAM

The elevator doors slide shut, and I let out a slow breath, trying to get in the right headspace for what is about to happen.

I’ve delayed this meeting with Chloe, but I still don’t think it was enough time. I told her work came up, which it did. But work always comes up. I could have kept our original date, but I put it off. I needed time to get a grip, to remember that this is just business. Chloe is my employee.

Now, time is up.

The elevator stops moving and the doors open. I remind myself that Chloe’s job is to mess with my head and stir up feelings. The fact that I’m feeling things for her is a byproduct of that, of course.

I’ll go in tonight, tell her some personal stuff, and we’ll be done. We can move on, and continue with the façade for my mother’s sake, as we agreed. End of story.

I smooth the collar on my short-sleeve, button-up shirt as I stride the couple steps to her open office door. She wanted to meet here. I assume because our “girlfriend-boyfriend chats” are basically rebranded life coaching sessions.

It’s past seven and almost dark out. About a dozen lamps glow in her office, setting the mood for intimate conversations. She’s seated at her desk, frowning at her computer.

“Something wrong?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh.” She jumps, surprised, and stands up. “Um,” she says as she smiles nervously, “I think I have malware or something on my computer.”

I cross the threshold into the office. “I can have my tech guys take a look and fix it if you’d like.”

“Actually, sure, that’d be great. I have my client files on here, so I don’t want this thing crashing,” she explains, understandably anxious.

“I’ll send someone by in the morning,” I offer.

“Thank you,” she accepts, tucking a strand of hair that escaped her messy ponytail behind her ear. It seems like she tried to dress extra conservatively today. Her lacy blouse has a high neck, and her flowy yellow skirt almost reaches her ankles. I wonder if her outfit choice has anything to do with our meeting today. Is she trying to visually rebuild the boundaries between us and communicate that she’s off limits?

Unfortunately, her outfit choice does not detract whatsoever from how gorgeous she is.

“Do you want this closed?” I nod to the door.

“Um, yes, please.” She walks around her desk toward the armchair that she sat in last time. I push the door shut and exhale, trying to release the tension that’s creeping back in. “Please, have a seat.” Chloe motions to the overstuffed couch. This is déjà vu.

Reluctantly, I take a seat on the couch, and she sits in the armchair.

“I know this feels kind of weird.” Chloe smiles softly. “But our goal is to identify and overcome those blocks that keep you from having a loving relationship. So that, after we break up, you can be successful.”

Her tone is gentle, but I shift uncomfortably on the coach.

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