Page 14 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

I give my sister a look. A look that tells her that I know what she’s doing. She’s once again using her powers of persuasion—or, as the whole family calls it, manipulation.

“I’m sure there are plenty of decorators I could choose from,” I reply.

Milly shrugs as though she doesn’t care one way or another. “Sure. I suppose you could if you want a shoddy job. It’s just, well, you know,” she continues in her off-the-cuff manner, “Charlie has won awards for her work. Her clientele all earn six figures. If you want this place to be fine dining and all…” She trails off.

And even though I know I’m being played, I now want to see what Charlie could do to the place. My mind goes back to my welcome home party and Charlie’s obvious reluctance to be there.

“Did Charlie come to my party willingly, Titch?” I ask.

Milly suddenly looks uncomfortable and turns away from me. She starts walking through the tables, mumbling something I can’t quite hear. “She showed up, didn’t she?”

“I know that. I was there, remember? You’re avoiding the question. Did she come to my party of her own volition?”

“What difference does it make?” Milly counters. “I thought you didn’t care about her one way or another.”

“I want to know, Titch,” I say, trying not to lose my cool with my sister’s avoidance.

“Look—”

“Milly!” I say firmly.

“Fine,” Milly huffs. “I told her I was taking her out for dinner to say sorry for not telling her that you were moving in next door. There. Are you happy now?”

“You gave her the same tall tale that you told me?” I balk, hardly able to believe my sister’s deceit.

“I thought it might break the ice between you guys,” Milly defends herself. “Are you mad at me?”

I sigh and shake my head. I’m not mad at Milly. I do, however, feel a wave of disappointment wash over me. Even though I already knew the answer, it would have been nice to believe that Charlie had been there because she wanted to welcome me home.

It was a foolish notion, and as I consider it, I wonder why I’m so disappointed. But I know the answer to that, too. While standing at the bar talking to her the other night, old, familiar feelings came rushing back. She looked stunning in that dress. Her soft, musky, floral scent hardly helped, nor did her glistening black hair.

I’m in trouble already, and I haven’t been home for a week yet.

“So, are you going to ask Charlie to come and take a look?” Milly asks.

“Maybe,” I reply.

You’re going to ask her. You know you are.

Yes. I know.

7

Charlie

The key is in the ignition, but no matter how many times I turn it, the darn car will not start. Again!

It’s my own fault. I should’ve gotten rid of this pile of junk by now. Well, getting it to a mechanic might be a less dramatic step. I just never seem to find the time. Besides, I need my car to get to my clients, which is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing this morning.

After multiple attempts at starting the car, losing my temper entirely, and finally concluding that I’m going to have to cancel on this new, very affluent client, I rest my head on the steering wheel and heave a massive sigh of frustration. Clearly, I was some evil fiend in a past life, and karma is only now catching up with me.

I gasp in shock at the sound of a sharp knock on my driver’s door window. Straightening in my seat, my heart thumps in my chest as I look out and up at Troy, who is currently peering in at me inquisitively.

Great!

It’s been five days since Milly conned me into attending his welcome home party, and apart from brief greetings whenever we happened to have seen each other, we haven’t really spoken. If I’m honest, the situation hasn’t been anywhere near as bad as my overactive imagination predicted.

It turns out that I didn’t have the first clue what Troy was doing in Paris, and thanks to Milly, I now know that he’s actually a fully qualified chef. Not just any old chef, either. He was trained by some of the most prestigious chefs in the city. I’ll admit, I was pretty impressed with that information.

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