Page 7 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting in the courtyard with a pint of beer each. Jack is still rabbiting on about coincidences and the likelihood of us meeting again.

Ollie raises his glass. “You did me a huge favour, Kit. I’ll tell Monty we’ve broken up nearer the time. That way he won’t expect to see you at the reunion.”

“Hey, hey! I have an idea,” Jack blurts out. “Why don’t you carry on pretending? Then Monty won’t patronise you. You know what he’ll be like. All ‘poor Blinkers got dumped. Maybe he hid from him too’’.” His brain-to-mouth function seems to have blown a fuse.

The thought of Ollie being bullied rankles me. “Why don’t you tell him to fuck off?”

Ollie looks at me as if I’ve spoken a foreign language. “I don’t like being that rude. Yes, he’s a dick, but I owe the school a lot. I doubt I’d be where I am now if I hadn’t gone there. My education opened a lot of doors. I’m good at my job. I wouldn’t have been able to hack it if I wasn’t, but going to that school gave me an in. If I have to give a five-minute speech, I’ll do it. Not because Monty wants me to but as a thank you.”

That was not what I expected. I look at him, past the expensive clothes and shy smile, but at him, and I see thegoodness in him. He means what he said, and I smile back. “Okay, I can pretend to be your boyfriend for the event. It’ll be a laugh.” Hell, I’d like to be his boyfriend any way I can.

Beer spews out Ollie’s nose, and he coughs. “You’re kidding me? We don’t know each other.”

“We’ve got time to get to know each other. What date is the charity ball?” Why does he hesitate? Fuck. Of course. I’m doing this wrong. I should’ve asked him for a date, not told him I’d pretend. He’s going to think I don’t want to go out with him. Shit.

Jack glowers at me. Damn, he’s noticed my fuck-up too. He’s going to be on my case when we’re back at work.

“It’s November the 30th.I can’t ask you to do that, Kit.” Disappointment is written all over Ollie’s face. His eyes, which were all shiny and happy not a minute ago, are dark now, flat even.

“You didn’t ask. I offered. I guess it’ll be a free bar and some decent food. That’s always a bonus.” Here I go again, burying my foot even deeper in my mouth. Thank god I’m saved by the waiter putting our food on the table. We bite into our burgers. Ollie’s groan goes straight to my groin, and my dick twitches. Sorry, mate, I’ve fucked up any chance of some action.

Jack chatters away. Whether he’s oblivious to the tension between Ollie and me or is trying to dissolve it, I don’t know, but I gladly let him. He shares stories about our ridiculous customers, as well as the lovely ones. He then moves on to our weekend plans. “What are you doing, Kit?”

I let out a different type of moan. “I have the monthly Sunday dinner fiasco with my mother. She will have, without a doubt, found some poor, unsuspecting man and invited him asa potential boyfriend for me. I don’t know how she does it, but every month, she leads a new lamb to slaughter.”

“You should take Ollie,” Jack says.

“Er, that would be a huge no.”

Ollie flinches like I’ve slapped him.

Fuck! I’m getting this all so fucking wrong. “Ollie, I don’t want to subject you to my horrendous mother and her scornful tongue. You’d run a mile, and I’d never see you again.”

“I’d better go. Thanks for helping me, Kit, but I don’t think I’ll need a boyfriend for the reunion. It’s probably best I attend alone.” Something flickers in his gaze, as if he’s in pain. Then it’s gone, and his eyes look sharper, more determined. He claps Jack on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

He walks back to the bar. I sit frozen, watching his back in horrified silence. Then my legs seem to work, and I push my chair backwards and jump up. “Ollie!” I call, but he either doesn’t hear me or ignores me. Probably the latter.

Jack puts his hand on my arm. “He won’t come back. What the fuck got into you? You’ve done nothing but dig yourself a huge fucking hole. I’ve never seen anyone cock up something as spectacularly as you’ve done tonight.”

I try to say something, but Jack holds up his hand. “Sit down and listen to me. That man is my best friend. I know him as well as I know myself, and he’s not going to let you back in. Ever since you kissed him, he’s done nothing but talk about you, but now you acted like a complete prick.” He stands. “I have to go after him. I’ll see you at work.”

Jack walks out, and I drop my head. What the hell have I done? Made a complete dickhead of myself. When Ollie stood there, looking even more gorgeous than I remembered, I couldn’t believe my eyes. But instead of showing him howthrilled I was to see him again, I did and said everything wrong. I trudge through to the bar to pay the bill.

The bartender checks our table number. “It’s been paid, sir.”

“Do you know who by?” Please let it be Jack. I can give him the money back.

“Yes, sir, the brown-haired man in the dark grey suit.”

Shit! Ollie. I’m an arsehole.

I return to my place, where Adam is sprawled on the sofa. A pizza box lies on the table with a couple of empty beer bottles next to it. He takes one look at me, opens another bottle, and hands it to me.

Yep, it’s time to get drunk.

“No, Jack, I don’t want his fucking phone number. I’m not interested, not anymore. The guy’s a total twat. I wouldn’t go out with him if he were the last bloody man alive.”

“He knows he fucked up and is sorry. He likes you. He really fucking likes you. He wants to apologise and see you again.” Jack pleads with me, just like he has done every day for the last week.

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