Page 41 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

I’m not averse to the idea; I’m just completely taken aback. It’s been one of those days, right? One surprise after another.

“So? Will you do it?” Troy presses. “You’ll have full creative freedom. I won’t stand in the way of your suggestions.”

I take a deep breath in and let out a long sigh. Secretly, this is my dream. Never before have I been given such a blank canvas to work with, but more importantly than that, none of my previous clients have ever told me I could just do what I wanted. It really is a beautiful restaurant, and a vision is already forming in my mind.

“Charlie?” Troy says.

“All right,” I answer. “I’ll do it.”

I’m beaming with delight, and the next thing I know, Troy has lifted me in his arms and started swinging me around like I weigh nothing at all.

“Yes!” he exclaims. “Thank you.”

When he puts me down again, I say, “Don’t thank me yet. You have no idea what I have in mind.”

He looks the slightest bit perturbed. “But you’re going to tell me, right?”

I playfully skip toward the door, push it open, and step outside.

“Charlie?” I hear him call, but I’m too busy laughing to answer.

18

Troy

I’m buzzing. That’s the only way I can describe it. Three days ago turned out to be the best day since I came back. Not the part where Charlie was upset, obviously, but everything after that. I took a chance asking if she wanted to try again, and boy, am I glad I did. Since then, I’ve seen a lot more of her, though the fact that she’s agreed to be my interior decorator has a lot to do with that.

She’s been over several times with drawings, color palettes, and samples of materials. While half of what she says doesn’t make any sense to me, I’m just glad to see her. Had I known she enjoyed her work so much, I’d have asked her sooner. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get so excited talking about fabrics.

More than all of that, though, we’re reconnecting. I’ve realized that I never stopped loving her, even after all this time. And now that the barriers have fallen, I’ve been blessed with growing closer to the wonderful, warm person she always was.

I’m on the way to Mom and Dad’s for dinner. Mom called earlier, and apparently, she misses me. “I saw you more when you lived in Paris than I have since you’ve been back,” she said.

She’s great at guilt trips.

As I pull into Mom and Dad’s driveway, I remind myself that it’s still early and to keep my mouth shut. Besides, I don’t know if Charlie wants anyone else to know. Maybe that’s a conversation we need to have sooner rather than later.

I step into the house, but I don’t see anyone around, so I make my way into the kitchen, where I can hear conversation and clattering utensils.

“Troy!” Milly cries when she sees me. She runs over and gives me her usual affectionate hug. I realize that I’ve missed those as much as Mom has missed me. I’ve just been super busy.

“So, are you guys back together?” Milly blurts, looking up at me with a beaming grin.

Mom’s standing at the stove, supervising a bubbling pot. Dad’s sitting at the breakfast bar with a beer in one hand and a newspaper in the other. And after Milly’s less-than-discreet question, everyone is looking directly at me.

Am I supposed to lie to my family? Should I pretend that I have no idea what Milly is talking about? Or do I just ignore her question altogether?

By the questioning look on Mom and Dad’s faces, the last one isn’t an option. Besides, ignoring it is just going to look even more suspicious. I’ve never been great at lying. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t say goodbye to Charlie when I left. If she’d asked me why I was going, I couldn’t have told her the truth, and she would have figured out that something was wrong.

“Well?” Mom presses.

“Didn’t you already think we were back together at Grandma’s party?” I deflect.

“Yes, but I got a confession from your younger sister when I told her I thought Charlie was acting strange.” Mom gives Milly a stern look. “I can’t say I was pleased to hear that she had tricked that poor girl into going.”

“Oh, for goodness' sake, Mom,” Milly huffs. “She’s not a girl, she’s a grown woman. Besides, she could have refused to go.”

“Tricking her was still wrong,” Mom says defiantly.

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