Page 26 of The Match Faker

‘Hmmm?’

‘What you doing?’

‘Just looking through my client list to see who else to contact for the case study videos I need to submit for the competition.’

‘I bet that’ll be a walk in the park! Your clients love you!’

‘Two have already agreed, so I just need one more. If only the face-to-face interviews were so straightforward.’

‘When you see this, it’ll make things a whole lot easier.’ A wide grin spread across her face.

She got up, clutching her phone, then thrust the screen in front of me.

It was a text.

From Liam. I scanned it quickly.

Liam

I’m in.

Holy shit.

12

Mia

Although it was a cool Monday evening, as I stepped out from the Tube station, beads of sweat trickled down my back.

Must be because the carriage was hot. I definitely wasn’t nervous. I was only meeting Liam. I wasn’t one of those women that swooned over him or thought he was some kind of sex god. He was just the guy I grew up with from the age of seven until he moved to Spain at seventeen. No big deal.

Yeah, we were meeting alone at his place in Notting Hill to discuss the terms of our fake-dating agreement, but he had as much to gain or lose from this as I did. If he thought I was going to kiss his feet because I was so grateful, he’d better think again.

I took out my phone and pulled up directions. According to the map, it wasn’t too far to walk from the station, so I must be close.

My ankle twisted. I shouldn’t have worn these heels. Or these bloody knickers.

After crouching behind a car and checking the coast was clear, I discreetly pulled the flimsy piece of fabric out of my bum where it was wedged.

I hadn’t got round to doing the washing over the weekend because I’d been at the office working all day on Saturday and most of Sunday too. So it was either these lacy panties that Boris had bought me that weren’t really my normal style (or size) or the ones I’d had for at least a decade with multiple holes that I hadn’t got round to throwing out. I’d thought these would be the better option, but now I was having second thoughts.

Even though it was mild, I’d worn a hat too. My hair needed washing, but again, I hadn’t had time.

Although I generally wore my hair straight, my natural hair was thick and curly, so even though I got a keratin blow-dry, it always took me a couple of hours to wash, condition, and dry it, then smooth it out with irons and style it. Especially because my keratin appointment was long overdue. So today I’d thrown it up into a bun and hidden it under a hat.

I took in the sight of the colourful houses and expensive cars lining the streets. After walking for a few minutes, I eventually found the road. Wow. How the other half lived.

It was a white two-storey double-fronted house with a garden and black iron-gated entrance.

Even if I lived to a hundred, I’d never be able to afford a place half the size of this. It was funny how two people could grow up on the same street, but one went on to live in a fancy house in an area like this and the other ended up being me, struggling to make ends meet in a one-bedroom flat.

After finding the house, I rang the buzzer. Several seconds later, I heard the latch on the gate go. I walked through towards the door, pushed it gently and stepped inside.

‘Hello?’ I called out. It was boiling in here. I quickly took off my jacket and silk scarf. Even though it was still supposed to be summer, the British weather was temperamental, so you had to be prepared for all seasons.

I took off my hat too. I’d rather sit in front of Liam with a bad hair day than with sweat pouring down my face.

‘In here. The room on the right.’

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