Page 48 of Faking It With the Grumpy Single Dad

“What?”

“Someone called the paps, love. Isn’t it obvious? I mean, they learned pretty early on that you weren’t going to be one of those trashy, scandalous girls who gives them plenty of material to publish on a weekly basis, so they decided to keep their distance. But now thatsomeone elsehas clued them into the fact that you might finally be getting your hands dirty…”

“But who would do that to me?”

“Beats me, babe. If you find out, let me know. I’ll take care of them myself.”

I huff out a laugh. “Right. Thanks, Amelia.”

“Take care of yourself, Poppy. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Likewise.”

I hang up, my mind racing with everything Amelia just unloaded onto me.

Squinting through the sunlight, I check the time. It’s barely seven thirty in the morning.

Deep down, I know that I have to post something online to clear things up. Hearing the truth directly from my official account will quiet most of the rumors, especially when people find out how boring the truth is. Yet, the thought of doing anything on such a large public platform feels exhausting, like throwing water on a fire that’s already out of control. I’ve already gotten so used to my quiet little life.

I scroll through Instagram. My feed is littered with the faces of people I don’t even recognize, and influencers I barely remember following. But a quick search for my own name pullsup exactly what I feared: various screenshots of articles, fan accounts speculating wildly, and photos of me with Percy and Joe plastered side by side, each with their own theories about my apparentlove triangle.

My heart pounds as I go to my profile and start drafting a statement to post on my Story. The words come slowly, each sentence a careful attempt to convey the truth without making things worse:

Hi, everyone! It seems like there is speculation going around about me, and I wanted to set the record straight. First of all, I am single and not currently dating anyone, including the two men seen in the recent photographs. I hope everyone can please respect my privacy, as well as the privacy of the other parties involved. Thank you for understanding. Love, P.

I read it over about a dozen times, debating every single word. I’ve been careful to avoid mentioning Percy or Joe directly. I refuse to mention Percy because I know it will stoke his ego no matter what, and I even more adamantly refuse to mention Joe because there’s no other way to protect him but to ensure that there are as few details as possible to discover about him.

Still, it feels frustratingly vague, like I’m barely scratching the surface of what I really want to say. But I can’t be more specific without dragging them both into this mess even more. I’d happily take myself down if it meant bringing Percy with me, but with Joe involved…

Taking a deep breath, I hitpublishand hope that somehow this will be enough to calm the storm.

Within minutes, the notifications start rolling in.

Comments, likes, and of course, many opinions.

Some people are supportive, saying things likeHang in there, Poppy!andYou don’t owe anyone an explanation!

But others are less kind, throwing words likespoiledandattention-seekerinto the mix. Backlash is expected, since mostpeople will believe whatever they want regardless of how much it makes sense, but seeing it all on my screen feels like a punch to the gut. No matter how much I try to explain, people are going to make their own personal judgments.

I’m used to this, though. Or rather, I should be used to this. I’m not a stranger to the spotlight. I never have been. People have been observing me and judging me for my entire life, good or bad.

And, really, I could probably handle this easily enough. What’s really bothering me is the fact that I’ve accidentally dragged Joe into this mess. He’snotused to this. He’s a normal guy with a normal life. Not to mention the fact that he has children.

If some creep manages to discover who he is and starts airing out his dirty laundry to the entire world, I’ll never forgive myself.

Just as I’m about to put my phone down and try to breathe through the anxiety, I hear a loudbangfrom the front door. I freeze, heart pounding. There’s a weird scraping sound, and I hear the door swing open, slamming against the wall.

I have just enough time to scramble to my feet and leap over a pile of lumber toward the foyer before the intruder comes into view.

Percy.

He strides inside, his face a mask of glowering annoyance.

I stop short. I’ve seen Percy upset before, but this is different. This is more like a raw, unfiltered fury that almost scares me a little bit.

“What the hell was that post, Poppy?” he demands, his voice low but seething. “You think you can just throw me under the bus like that?”

Hell, he’s so obsessed with himself. Of course it only took him twenty minutes to see my post and rush over here to confront me. For all I know, he’s been staking out the place all night.

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