Page 20 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

The sun blasted me from just over the horizon, and I wondered why anyone would live where the skies were clear so much of the time.

Or maybe I’d caught the California coast on a good day.

“Are you here for business or pleasure?” the driver, Mel, asked. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but a retired man in his sixties with a Boston accent whose wife had told him to get out of her hair for a few hours a day wasn’t it.

“Pleasure. I’m attending a wedding.” I also had business with Victoria. I wanted to know more about her and how she felt about me. Getting to the bottom of that may or may not provide pleasure.

“Alone?” Mel’s lack of tact, which I suspected was deliberate, made me smile.

We reached the other side of the bridge as I answered. “No, I’m meeting my plus one here.”

“Are you serious about her?”

“I am, but I’m not sure the feeling is mutual.”

“Oh?” Mel’s unibrow lifted as he looked in the mirror.

I shrugged. “Up to this point we’ve been flirting buddies.”

“Is that a thing?”

“It is for us.”

My phone buzzed, and I winced when I saw Vincent’s number. “Sorry,” I told Mel, “I need to take this.”

He waved a hand, and I answered.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Sorry to bother you, Boss, but we have a problem.”

Vincent had started every phone call he’d made to me this week in exactly the same way. He’d mostly kept it together up in Alaska, but I’d never realized how tenuous our supply line was until I wasn’t there to patch it when things went wrong. This had been a learning experience in more than one way. Vincent was more than capable of running the kitchen for both the Crazy and Magnificent Moose, but he wasn’t great when disaster struck.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I thought you should know that everything went off without a hitch last night, and today is looking solid.”

I glared out the window. “You’re a jerk.”

The voice on the phone changed to Shane. “Were you worried?”

“You’re an even bigger jerk than Vincent.”

Shane laughed. “I know. I just wanted to say good luck with Victoria.”

“Thanks.” It had been impossible to keep the fact that I was seeing Victoria this weekend from him. He’d mostly been supportive, except for the continuous jabs about being the next to get married.

“Just be yourself,” Shane said.

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s your plan?”

I gave him the abbreviated version. “Woo the girl.”

“Solid plan.” Something crashed in the background. It sounded suspiciously like a pot hitting the floor.

“What was that?” I asked.

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