Page 39 of Fake It 'til You Make It

‘Did you just check me out?’ I ask, channeling my brother, except he’d turn it into some sort of cheesy pick-up line and I just don’t have enough pizazz for that.

She quickly drags her eyes back to mine, and her cheeks pinken. ‘Only to note that you’re in my way. Can we get on with this, please? I have places to go, people to see and all that.’

I step aside and let her in, now realizing just how much of a mess the apartment looks. Whilst Abbey and I were being anti-social last night, only engaging in the virtual world, beer bottles and pizza boxes were being scattered around almost every surface. It’s a shame the cleaners don’t come on Saturdays.

‘I’ll go grab a top,’ I say.

‘Erm, yes, please. We don’t need any distractions. We’ve got our work cut out for us here.’

I’m walking away when her words land. ‘Are you calling me a distraction?’

Mike would be proud. If this wasn’t Abbey from 7B, annoying and kind of angry, I’d sound like I’m flirting. Something Mike and Roman have confirmed I am appalling at.

She rolls her eyes and shoos me with a wave of her fingers, making me chuckle. I head upstairs for a shirt.

‘I’m sad to see you didn’t turn up in your big panties and fluffy boots, 7B,’ I shout down from the mezzanine level.

‘They’re for one week of every month, joker.’

I chortle all the way to my temporary wardrobe.

When I come back into the lounge, Abbey has made two coffees and is scrolling through her phone. Her hair is contained in a disorderly yet pretty bundle at the nape of her neck, exposing pale, flawless skin all the way down to beneath her shoulders.

Fleur was always tanned, be it from the sun or from a bottle. Her skin was punctuated with defined bones. Chiseled, she called herself. I guess that got her a lot of work as a model. She’s beautiful. Photographed, she is truly a work of art. Unreal. Untouchable.

She proverbially knocked me off my feet the first time she showed an interest in me at Mike’s celebrity birthday bash in San Francisco. It was star-studded and showy, the kind of thing I really dislike. I would have much preferred taking my brother for a celebratory beer. Fleur loosely knew a woman Mike is friends with and the two of them came along. Her friend got flirty with Mike. Roman found someone he knew to talk to. Then Fleur and I were kissing.

In the lounge, ‘Fireflies’ by Owl City is playing through Abbey’s phone. I like this song. And I also like how Abbey’s hips are wiggling and her shoulders are bopping to the beat. She’s happy and somehow, that rubs off on me, too. I feel light-heartedas I head over to the coffee and the woman pulling back on her yellow gloves.

‘You can play music through the apartment’s surround,’ I tell her, making her jump, as if she forgot I was in the building.

‘Finally, you’re decent,’ she says, gesturing to my shorts and T-shirt. ‘It’s loud enough through my phone. As you’re well aware, I don’t like loud noises disturbing the peace.’

I roll my eyes. I may have ultimately won the game-off last night, impressing even myself with my virtual bouldering, but I have taken on board her complaints and will try to stop the absentminded banging of Mike’s baseballs on the walls.

‘Is one of those for me?’ I ask, nodding in the direction of the two steaming cups of coffee.

‘Yep. I wasn’t sure how you like it, so you’ll have to take it as it comes.’

‘Which is?’

She shakes a black trash bag, opening it out, followed by three more. ‘Something akin to a white americano. Unless you have an allergy or intolerance?’

There’s panic in her voice, like she’s terrified of having done something wrong.

I pick up the cup and take a gulp. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you.’

‘Phew. I don’t have an EpiPen and I definitely don’t want to wind up cleaning alone.’

‘My anaphylaxis is your secondary concern, then.’

‘Anaphylactic shock probably would have stopped your ignorant banging sooner than me being forced to clean up your stinking apartment from your dirty friends.’ Ah, she’s back, the crabby as hell, stuck-up Abbey. She crouches down to pick up three of the trash bags, holding out two for me to take. ‘Two each. Keep the recycling separate. We can save the planet one glass bottle at a time.’

‘If we were being very eco-friendly, there’d have been a beer keg and reusable cups.’

She shrugs. ‘I didn’t throw the party, I just got sucked into it.’

As soon as I relieve her of two bags, she starts picking up mess from the kitchen floor. ‘Your guests were animals.’

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