Page 14 of The Fake Out Flex

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Feel free to use me in any way you see fit."

She perks right back up, pulling her hand out of my grip. "Can I pick what suit you wear?"

"Of course."

"Can I order you to break into his house and steal random stuff like the microwave turntable or one shoe from every pair of shoes he owns?"

"No."

"Okay. Forget the microwave turntable and the shoes. What if you break into his house…"

"No."

"Steal his beloved PlayStation…"

"Still no."

"Pawn it…"

"I know you can hear me."

"And use the money to sponsor a pig at the local petting zoo, which we'd name after him?"

I suppress a smile. "We are not doing any of that."

"You're no fun." She pouts, but she's trying not to smile, too.

I peer over into the kitchen. Levi's almost done plating up seconds. I don't have much alone-time left with her.

So I take Evie's hand in mine again and say, "You are not defined by what that guy did to you, okay? We are going to that wedding, and you will show him and everyone else there that you are a brilliant, vibrant, beautiful woman who has moved on with her life."

Her hazel eyes meet mine, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Because I promise you this, Evelyn Freeman, I will do everything I can to be the best date you've ever had."

3

Evie

"You busy, Evie?"

My boss's commanding voice startles me. I snap my laptop shut—hoping she didn't catch a glimpse of what I was about to view for the eighty-seventh millionth time—and swivel around in my desk chair to face her.

"Never too busy for you." I lift my gaze and offer a smile. "What's up?"

Margo glances around the cubicle farm. "Come on. Let's walk and talk."

"Okay."

I tuck my laptop under my arm and join her as we commence one of her infamous 'walk and talks' around the office. It's a step up from her impromptu, oh you're in the next cubicle, let's have a chat in the ladies' restroom meeting.

"I need your top three reasons for why I should not get a tattoo," she says in her thick Australian drawl as we commence our walk. "Go."

"Um, okay…"

Margo Bailey.

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