Page 53 of Fake It 'til You Make It

I shake my head, perhaps saying no, maybe just trying to make sense of everything whizzing around up there, shaking away the image of Fleur and my best friend, willing the vivid memory to disappear.

With our contact broken, Fleur lets out another sob. ‘It’s over between Rome and me, I promise.’

I scoff, standing, needing to be away from her.

‘Is that so? It’s over and now you want me to be here, waiting, happy to accept anything you send my way?’

‘No. It’s not like that. I made a mistake and now it’s over.’

I’m pacing the floor, needing to move. ‘Last week, you told me you love him.Him, not me.’

She sobs harder. ‘It was a mistake. I was confused.’

Sinister laughter comes from a place of darkness I didn’t know I had. ‘Were you confused when you thought you loved me? Were you confused when you agreed to marry me? Or are you confused now about being in love with my best friend?’

As Fleur blows her nose, a thought occurs to me. ‘Who ended it?’

‘Pardon?’ she says, in a way that tells me she is playing for time, orchestrating a response, weaving another lie.

‘He ended it, didn’t he? Roman ended it between you two.’

She rubs a knuckle under her wet eyes. ‘Yes. Officially. But we both knew it was wrong.’

Pressing my fingers to my temples, I continue to pace. ‘Fleur, you need to leave.’

She stands from the sofa. ‘I just got here.’

I walk to the front door and pull it open. ‘And you’ve already been here too long.’

God, am I kicking her out? Where will she go? She’s familiar with New York but I don’t know that she has any real connections here, any friends. Ha, for all I know, she could be screwing someone in this building.

‘You are not serious?’ she says, her eyes pleading from where she remains in the lounge, unmoving. ‘Where will I go? Can we just talk about this?’

I can’t look at her or I’ll cave. Until… her tone changes from desperation to anger.

‘We both have things we need to work on,’ she says, hands on hips.

Unbelievable.

‘Fleur, I know I am far from perfect but?—’

I’m interrupted by the pinging of the elevator as it arrives at my floor.

Who now?

My stomach sinks. Tell me Roman hasn’t followed her. Is he here for her or me?

But the doors open and when I see Abbey’s beaming smile, a moment of calm washes over me.

Abbey. It feels like she walks toward me in slow motion, bringing down the pace of the last half hour, turning hate to peace with the curve of her lips.

‘So, I think I have another favor to ask of you,’ she says, and God knows I’d rather hear about Abbey’s favor than spend another second arguing with Fleur.

‘Who is it?’ Fleur’s voice cuts through the peace as both women approach me from opposite sides of the door.

Abbey’s sunny demeanor switches to surprise and Fleur scrutinizes Abbey in a way that irks me, the way Fleur considers every woman who isn’t her own reflection, in fact, like she’s superior to them.

‘Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you had company,’ Abbey says, flush with unnecessary discomfort. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think you would.’

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