Page 56 of The Fake Date Deal

“To help,” I said, feeling like I was beating a dead horse. “It’s as simple as that. I’m doing my part. I was out for a while with the whole wedding whirl, then my little break from reality with Marco. But I’m back now, and?—”

“They don’t need you.”

I jerked like she’d slapped me. “Excuse me?”

“They don’t. They have people to do this stuff, and it’s not what you want. Even if it’s true it was all fake with Marco, what about your life? What about your dreams?”

“I’m awake now,” I said. “No time for dreaming.”

Gabriella made a pthbbt sound and drained her champagne. “No way you’re that cynical, and I know you’re not stupid. So what does that leave, besides a broken heart? Are you scared? Is that it?”

I stood up. “Whatever.”

“No, not ‘whatever.’ I saw those outtakes from your commercial.”

I turned away. “So what?”

“So, you were happy. You were laughing your ass off. I never saw you so bubbly, lit up like a light bulb.”

I tumbled back through what felt like vast tracts of time, back to a moment that felt like a dream, the lights and the cameras. The clifftop kiss. Marco. That day was a blur to me, a bright comet trail, all of my fantasies caught up in one. I’d seen it that day, a fresh, trembling vision, all the threads of a new life ready to weave. All I needed to do was reach out and grasp them. Fame on my own terms, a new career. Marco beside me, cheering me on.

“All I’m saying is, he must really know you.” Gabriella had risen, and she took my arm. “He knew what to do to put that smile on your face. Not only that, but he went out and did it. Don’t you owe it to yourself to at least hear his side?”

I jerked my arm away. “What side is that?”

“The side where he messed up? Where nobody’s perfect? Where you aren’t, either, hiding away? You always do this. You always run scared. The first hint of rejection, and?—”

“And what’s wrong with that, with protecting myself?” I realized I was shouting. The florists were staring. Gabriella yelled back at me, blocking my way.

“Maybe he’s as scared as you are. You ever think of that? Maybe he’s pulling back before you can dump him.”

I clutched at my head, trying to clear it. I couldn’t think past the cobwebs from nights of no sleep. “It doesn’t matter,” I groaned. “He— he— I was ready. I was ready to fight for him. To tell him, let’s do this. That’s why I went back there, to make it real. I’d just chickened out again, but then I thought, why? What’s the worst he can say to me? ‘I don’t feel the same?’ I was ready to hear that. I’d have moved on. But it was so much worse, so mean, so awful, and?—”

Gabriella tried to hug me, or maybe corral me. I squirmed away from her, ranting on.

“And it would be just like that if I tried to do acting. Did you know Meryl Streep got told she was ugly? Too ugly for acting, that’s what they said. That’s how it is out there, that’s the real world, and you know what? I’m done with it. I don’t need it. I’m fine with my fake life. With all this right here. I’ll marry the next one, the next Rafael.”

Gabriella held her hands up. “O-kay. You need sleep.”

“No. No, I’m fine. I’m good where I am.” I took a deep breath, so deep my head spun. When I let it out, I swayed on my feet. I could hear myself talking from far, far away, repeating the same line, I’m fine. This is fine.

If I shouted it loud enough, maybe I’d believe it.

CHAPTER 22

MARCO

Dear Eve,

No, too formal.

Eve,

Too curt.

[insert proper greeting],

I don’t blame you for blocking me. What I said was the worst. I wish I could upload my feelings right now, and send them your way as an email attachment. I don’t know how else to show you how sorry I am. But what’s that worth, really, me being sorry? I didn’t mean a word of it, but I still said it, and nothing I say now can unring that bell.

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