Page 33 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

To say I fled would have been one hundred percent accurate. I avoided making eye contact with the enormous, jetted tub as I used the toilet. I even put the seat up—Rachel would be so proud—and back down when I was finished. No one could say that this Alaskan wasn’t house-trained.

As I washed my hands, I gave myself a hard look in the mirror.

Courtney was old news. Ten years ago news. I didn’t love her anymore. She’d never loved me. It. Was. Over.

I was here for Victoria. I closed my eyes for a moment, pushing the emerging thoughts of Courtney and me away. I needed to find out if Victoria ticked all of the boxes on my list.

Courtney hadn’t, and I’d ignored that which had left me a husk of a man.

I couldn’t let that happen again.

I opened my eyes and looked down.

The array of hair and skin care products on the bathroom counter didn’t surprise me in the least. Crystal used twice as many. I may or may not have taken a moment to appreciate the spread of lipstick colors Victoria had brought, picturing her in each one. After I dried my hands, I opened the door and moved back out into the sitting area.

Victoria sat on the couch looking at her phone.

I’d rarely caught her in a quiet moment—Victoria’s default was moving—and I took the time to appreciate the way she bit her bottom lip and her head tilted slightly to the side as she studied the screen. Now whenever she sent me a text, I’d picture her like she looked right then.

Victoria and I had hardly spent any time alone together. Sure, there had been plenty of instances that we’d been in a different part of the house than Shane and Rachel up in Big Bear, but there had always been other people around. We’d flirted partly to see how they would react.

Now, with just me and Victoria here, I wasn’t sure what to do. I walked to the couch and sat, leaving a cushion between us. “Whatcha looking at?” I asked.

“Dresses.” She turned her phone off.

“Not happy with what you brought?” I teased.

She shook her head. “These are designs from someone that I’m considering using for my subscription boxes.”

Victoria had told me about her plan, and I personally thought it was brilliant. I also knew she and my aunt had been working together—sort of—which was a turn I hadn’t seen coming. “Anything solid?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

“Are you still trying to buy local?”

Victoria tilted her head back and forth. “I want to, but there are pros and cons.”

“Like what?”

She eyed me as if she’d never seen me before. Probably because I’d normally tease her about if she’d identified and properly represented the season’s most popular colors. “What? I run a business, maybe I can help.”

After a deep breath, she spoke, “Buying local is more expensive, but buying from overseas means I have to purchase a huge amount of each item. I’m not sure if I’ll have the need for that. Plus, the shipping delay can mean the best dress I’ve found could miss an entire season sitting in customs.”

“So, in the end, the price might be comparable?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” She sat back and sighed. “Having to make all of these decisions is frustrating. I feel like I’m juggling chainsaws or something.”

“I get it. I’m always nervous about new suppliers, new items on the menu, and new employees. It feels like everything is squarely on my shoulders, and anything that goes awry is my fault.”

She gave me a flat stare. “You’d make a crappy motivational speaker.”

“Do you want the truth or placations?” I asked.

After a blink, she said, “The truth, but maybe with a side of encouragement.”

I smiled. “Okay then, I think your business idea is brilliant, but there are a lot of moving pieces so just try to take them on one at a time. Don’t drown yourself.”

Her flat stare softened, and she took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

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