Page 43 of Faking the Face Off

“I’m impressed you know who he is,” I acknowledge.

She taps the side of her head. “I have a ridiculous memory, it’s really good, so it’s safe to say that Ollie made an impression on us in Chicago a long time ago.”

“I didn’t pay her anything to say that to you, either, Elle,” Sutton says under her breath as we all shuffle along another few steps. I look and I’m the next one up to the counter already, after the current customer is done.

“She really didn’t,” I agree because it’s true. Sutton didn’t and wouldn’t have to. When you get to meet someone who has broken the glass ceiling like Elle has, you aren’t gonna mess about. “My dad liked watching you play ice hockey when you played for the Sunbeams, when you were in school in Florida. Said you’d go places, so we weren’t surprised when we heard that after you were in the Olympics—and all the consulting you were doing, of course—the Chicago Turbines would want you.”

Elle blushes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a plant and all part of the Renegades plan to woo me.”

“Woo you?” My eyebrows shoot up, my eyes rocking to Sutton’s as I’m called up to the register. It only takes me a quick second to get what I need and pay for it, and as soon as I do, I simultaneously grab my keys as I spin around to Sutton and Elle once more. “Who’s wooing who?”

Elle’s eyes widen as she turns to Sutton. “Uh-oh. Did I let something slip?”

“Not at all,” Sutton says, placing a hand on my forearm. “Do me a favor, Anna, keep this between us? Not everyone in the Ivory Tower knows that Elle is here today.”

I don’t crack a hint of a smile when she uses the unofficial nickname given to her family’s offices. I can only search her eyes for a hint of more, but there’s nothing. Nothing except trust.

“Whatever this is,” I say, flipping my keys in my hand, “your secret is safe with me. I have to go anyway.” I hold up my purchases as my stomach growls. “Duty calls.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Elle calls out after me as I wave at the pair and make my way outside into the morning light.

Glancing at my watch, I’m relieved that I’m making good time even with the holdup in the hardware store. Knowing Molly won’t be at the school for a little longer gives me some relief, so I toss the bag in my car, then add more time to my meter before jogging down the street to grab some breakfast.

Shelly’s Southern Sweets is my favorite spot to hit in the morning, when I have time. Shelly is from North Carolina and makes everything with extra butter and extra sugar, which makes everything she bakes even more delicious. But if I have too much too often, there’s no way I’m gonna fit into my clothes. But these are things I am not going to worry about today.

Opening the door to step into her small bakery, I’m accosted by the smell of cinnamon and apples. I close my eyes and inhale, already decided that an apple fritter is what is needed.

I wait patiently in line, placing my order and getting my treat wrapped in one of Shelly’s signature pink bags before I go. I land outside on the sidewalk and can’t resist, opening the bag to take another whiff of my sugary treat, which I’m gonna shove into my face once I’m alone in my car.

“Still a sucker for one of Shelly’s fritters?”

There are moments when someone enjoys being surprised. Your birthday for one, a fun day to get all kinds of surprises. I think when you’re feeling down, too. That’s a good time for a surprise. I think it’s also a nice surprise when you open your mailbox and it doesn’t have a bill that needs to be paid waiting for you inside.

But when you’re running errands with half-brushed hair in an old white T-shirt that’s yellowing from too much bleach over the years and you maybe have a questionable relationship with deodorant today? Well, you don’t necessarily want, nor need, asurprise of any kind. Like this one: when my eyes fly open to find my ex standing in front of me.

“Jason.” I stop in my tracks, my hand frozen inside my purse where it’s searching for my keys. Not someone I care to run into, if we’re being honest, but here we are. It’s what small towns were made for. Awkward moments.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my temporary paralysis lifting as my fingers touch the cool metal of my keys. Good. I’m closer to leaving. “Thought you moved to New York or Jersey.”

“Philly,” he corrects me. “But I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You never did have a habit of listening to me.”

Here we go. He’s a good-looking guy, super smart. Like, lawyer smart all rolled up into a guy who could, if he let his hair grow out and lifted some weights, look like Jason Momoa if he wanted. But, sadly, it’s his personality that will kill it for him every time.

“Sorry about that,” I say as I incline my head toward my car. “But, I’m in work mode. Gotta meet Molly soon with something for the kids.”

“Still assisting Ben, huh?” His voice oozes with apology, but I’m not sure what for; it’s as if I could do better but I’m not. And it hits me in the heart like a poison arrow.

“Yep,” I say tersely. In my imaginary Anna-land, I’m now pulling the arrow out of my heart and holding it firmly in my hand. And then I let the arrow go. “Are you still working for your daddy?”

Whoops.

Jason’s eyes cloud over as I hit the nail on the head. He works for his family’s business as their in-house counsel, and there’s nothing wrong with it. But don’t come after me for my job, which I got on my own without help, thank you very much, when I know your parents gave you yours because you couldn’t find one. It all circles back to that winning personality of his, but hey.He’s not my problem anymore. Not him, his power drills, nor his Brita filters––none of it is my problem.

“I see you haven’t changed,” he says as he grunts. “You still like to badger, don’t you?”

After hanging out with him for one night, even my father declared we were like oil and water. I had six months with this guy that I’ll never get back. Shaking my head, I hit my key fob to unlock the car and start to walk away.

“Nice seeing you, Jason,” I call out as I go to open my door, surprised when I hear something behind me and turn around to find he’s followed me. “What do you want?”

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