Page 24 of Faking It With the Grumpy Single Dad

He rolls his eyes, haughtily pretending that he still has the upper hand here, and heads toward the door.

It slams loudly, followed by the stomps of his fancy leather brogues on the porch steps. I’m frozen in place, unable to move until I know that he’s actually left the property. Joe remains still, too.

I hear the hum of an engine—probably some ridiculous sports car that he’s rented—and then the crunch of gravel against the tires.

Then, miraculously, he’s gone.

Chapter Eight: Joe

When Mr. Fancy Pants leaves, it takes Poppy a moment to defrost.

Upstairs, the guys, who were not-so-subtly eavesdropping after I decided to come down here and figure out what all the fuss was about, start working again.

I clear my throat, casually stepping away from her as she finally releases her iron-tight grip on my arm. I’m pretty sure the gemstone-encrusted ring on her middle finger left a permanent indent.

At the same time, however, it was kind of nice to pretend at being her anchor.

“I’m so sorry,” Poppy says, turning away to run her fingers through her cornsilk hair. “That was so inappropriate. Thank you for playing along. I’m so embarrassed.”

Joe is also my boyfriend. I would’ve laughed if I hadn’t been so shocked. In the reality that I know, a woman like Poppy would never end up with a man like me. Pretty Boy bought it, though.

“Who was that?” I ask.

With a groan, she sinks against the wall, offering me a look full of guilt, shame, and exhaustion.

“Percy Barclay. My ex-boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

Of course. Right. Because, in the reality that I know, a woman like Poppydefinitelywould end up with a man like that.Thatmakes sense. They’re both prim and pretty, tan and blond. Their outfits likely cost more than my mortgage.

“I’m really sorry,” she says again.

I shrug. “There’s no need to apologize.”

“I made you lie, though. About theboyfriendthing.”

There’s a strange swooping sensation in the pit of my stomach when her cheeks turn pink.

“I’ll survive,” I insist. “It seemed like it was a necessary lie. He’s not very pleasant, huh?”

Poppy massages her temples. “He’s embarrassing is what he is. I seriously can’t even believe that I was ever into him.”

“How long were you together?” Really, I should be getting back upstairs to continue working, but I’m also hesitant to leave Poppy alone at the moment. She looks distressed.

“A couple years.”

“Oh.”

“But I dumped him over a year ago.”

“Ah.”

“He was just so controlling. Like, psychotically so. I mean, at first, he was completely normal. He was sweet, actually. Maybe too sweet.” Poppy chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “For the first couple months, he would overwhelm me with gifts and flowers and surprise trips. Like, he flew me to Paris for our one-month anniversary and arranged for us to have a private meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

“Wow.”

“It was ridiculous. And windy.” She sighs. “Anyway, soon enough, he started acting weird. He would get annoyed when I wanted to go do something without him. He’d become obsessed with my friends and constantly be talking to them about me. Like, what was I doing when he wasn’t around? What was I talking about? Was I saying anything weird about him? Things like that.”

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