Page 61 of Fake It 'til You Make It

‘And don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.’

‘I didn’t!’ She can’t even see me.

‘Well I won’t pretend I’m happy about these games the two of you are playing?—’

‘It’s not a game, Mom. I… I really like this guy.’

She sighs down the line.

‘Plus, your vows aren’t some kind of match-making event; it’s all about you and Dad. I’ll be there foryou, no one else.’

I can hear her smile in her voice.

‘I’m very happy you think so, darling. So you will come home early, won’t you? The timeline is tight and both your brother and sister are too busy. You also need to try on your vow-maid dress.’

‘Vow-maid?’

‘Yes, I want you and your sister to walk down the aisle with me.’

Wow, this is going to bebig.

What I’d like to say is:Mom, the thought of people staring at me and wearing a big puffy dress literally gives me the heebie-jeebies. Please don’t make me do it.

What I actually say is: ‘I’d be honored, Mom. So will Dee. Also, I’ve spoken to Mike. We can come on Tuesday. Is that okay?’ I don’t want to drop Dee in it on the set but more importantly, Mike and I need time to learn the things about each other that other people will expect us to know.

‘I’ll have Dad’s new secretary book you a flight. That will give us a few days. I suppose I’ll need to arrange a ticket for this date you’re bringing?’

‘Yes, please, though I can pay you back for both tickets.’

She sighs again, like I’m ruining her plans for a rekindlingbetween Andrew and me. ‘There’ll be no need for that. Does he have a full name, this new person of yours?’

I place my bags down in the lounge and look up to the ceiling. ‘Michael Thomas.’Please don’t ask about middle names because I have no clue whether he has one or not. ‘I’ll get his passport details for you. Mom, I’ve got to go.’

‘All right, darling. I’ll send flight details through. Let me know ifMikedecides not to come, won’t you?’

‘Love you, Mom. Speak soon.’

‘I love you. Even if I don’t always approve of?—’

I end the call, then kick off my sneakers and swap them for my fluffy slippers. I’m about to dish up the food from my takeout cartons when I hear the familiar, grating sound ofbang, bang, bang.

Oh dear.

I think I know a guy in apartment 8B who might need a poppadum pick-me-up.

25

TED

‘Things with Fleur wentthatwell, huh?’ Abbey says when I open the door. She’s holding what look like takeout food cartons and smell like Indian food and she nods to the baseball in my hand that I’ve been tossing against the lounge wall.

I shrug. ‘She left for the airport an hour or so ago, laden with a full day’s worth of shopping from Fifth Avenue.’

‘So do you want to tell me why you’re bashing that godforsaken ball off the walls again?’

‘Not really. I just want whatever smells so good in those boxes.’ I pad into the kitchen and start fixing us drinks whilst Abbey pulls up a stool.

‘You get a bite for every feeling shared,’ she says, shoving a piece of poppadum dipped in mango chutney into her mouth.

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