Page 9 of Faking the Face Off

“As long as they’re likeable, relatable, and an everywoman,” I add to the melee.

“Yes,” Lara says, wagging a finger in the air. “For Ollie.”

“Do you think he’ll be open to the idea?” Jimmy asks no one.

“Probably not,” I say as I reach the door, holding in a gargantuan laugh. “I’m only using him as an example, anyway. This idea might be better suited for someone else, not Ollie. He’s too nice and has a heart of gold. He’s the type who wouldn’t want to fake anything.”

When I hear the words come out of my mouth, I’m surprised at how protective I’m feeling of my friend, but of course I would be. He’d do the same for me. It’s how we roll.

“If it’s just for a little while, he could,” Lara says, brushing off my comment without a second thought.

“We’ll find him someone who is a good strong fit, throw them together for a bit, and then they ‘break up’ once his profile’s where we need it or on a proper trajectory,” Lara says as Jimmy nods in agreement, and my stomach churns.

This is exactly the part of publicity that makes me want to scream. The calculated moves, the packaging of real people into fake stories—it’s so cold, so transactional.

“Okay, well, it sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” I say, forcing a smile that feels like it’s cracking at the edges. “So I’ll leave you to it.”

I open the door, the conversation already weighing on my shoulders as I step out.

“Thanks for the input, Anna!” Jimmy calls, and I resist the urge to slam the door behind me.

As I walk down the hallway, the buzzing fluorescent lights above seem to amplify the storm brewing in my head. Whatstarted as a simple pitch from your local busybody assistant attempting to help, has spiraled into something I can’t control.

I tried to steer them away from Ollie. I really did. But I might as well have handed them a blueprint. They’ll run with it now.

And Ollie? He’ll never see this coming.

I stop in the middle of the hallway, my chest tight as the weight of it all sinks in.

What have I done?

CHAPTER 4

OLLIE

The rink is quiet except for its natural hum. I’d gotten here early this morning so I could have it to myself; I like early mornings at the arena, all alone. It’s just me, my thoughts, and the ice.

I’d spent at least ninety minutes working my body over, and when I call time, I park myself on a bench to start taking my skates off. I’m ready for my post-practice massage and an episode or two ofBelow Deck—my guilty pleasure. I can’t help it. There’s a woman from New Zealand, Aisha, and she’s hands down the best yachtie ever. She’s cool and doesn’t seem to fluster easily, which of course reminds me of Anna. And Captain Sandy’s a boss, so there it is. My reasons for watching. I can hear Anna ridiculing me for even carving time out to indulge in my ‘mind-numbing show’, as she likes to sigh. But after having my butt kicked all day, I like disappearing into dramas that aren’t mine, even if they are of the loosely scripted variety.

I’m scrolling through an episode list, loving my options for binge-watching today, when I overhear someone talking to someone else. I can’t tell who it is, though. Standing up, at first I see no one, but when I crane my neck and look around the rink, I can just make out someone who looks like Danny Denault, ourKing of Ice Resurfacing, as I like to call him, who is also Anna’s father. Otherwise, he’s also known as Big Daddy Zamboni Guy.

“Stop calling me. This is bordering on harassment.”

When I hear these words come out of his mouth, echoing across the arena floor, I immediately make my way over to him. No one goes after a Renegade family member, no matter who they are, without one, or all, of us being involved.

When I get closer, I notice Danny doesn’t look like he usually does. The guy I know walks with his head held high, shoulders pulled back, proud. This Danny is hunched, looks tired, and is pacing in a circle and seems agitated.

“No.” He holds up a hand, slicing the air with it. “Stop this now. I’ll take care of it. I said I would.”

I don’t see the stray water bottle on the floor that I manage to kick, thus announcing my arrival to Danny. He spins around, his eyes widening when he sees me…and he immediately hangs up his call.

“Hey, Ollie,” he says, his stature straightening and his eyes lighting up as he slides his phone back into his pocket. “Didn’t see you there. How was practice?”

“Good.” I stoop down to pick up the empty water bottle and toss it into a recycling container nearby. I want to say something to him, but to be fair, I was also eavesdropping. I’m not sure where the line is drawn when you worry about someone, but I know I don’t want to find out right now. All I can go on is assumption. “Just making my way back to the locker room now, but I saw you and wanted to say hello.”

Danny laughs, but also looks at me with a little side-eye. Why? Because I’ve never just walked over to say hi before, probably. “I caught the last few minutes of your solo practice, you’re looking good.”

“It’s all me.” Ben’s voice booms from behind as he appears as if he’s a vapor and is suddenly standing with us, clapping Dannyon his back but staring at me. When I turn around, my insides do a little hop and a skip. Anna stands beside him.

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