Page 8 of Fake Hearts and Kisses

“Are you Italian?” She eyes my black hair and olive skin.

“Greek,” I say. “My grandmother was from Athens.”

“Oh, so veryGodfather-Esque, but Greek edition,” she coos, her eyes brightening. “Is she still alive?”

“No,” I tell her. “And I’m not close to my parents anymore.”

“Any more?”

“That’s a story for another day,” I say. “What are your hobbies, my pretty, fake girlfriend?”

She flushes, and she looks so adorable at this moment that I want to grab her and kiss her red cheeks until they are on fire. “I read.”

“Nice and vague,” I say with a smile. “What else?”

“I write,” she says, averting her eyes.

There it is. I was wondering if she’d admit the writing to me. I’m a little surprised she did. “Write?”

Daisy shrugs. “Some poetry and stuff.”

I let the subject go, even though I want details. I want to know what she writes so intently in those notebooks she brings to the coffee shop. “Tell me what to expect when we arrive at the lodge.”

“My father, George, and mother, Heather, are both pretty old-fashioned. My mother has a yoga course she teaches online. My brother and his wife are easygoing, even though they are both lawyers, and my sister is a clothing designer. And then there is her entourage headed by Erin, but I think Erin is the only one gracing us with her presence this weekend.”

I find it interesting she didn’t mention her father’s profession like she did everyone else, but I guess she doesn’t advertise that George is president of the largest investment banks in, probably, the entire country. “Tell me about this, Erin person,” I say. “The way you say her name, she sounds like she will be a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, she is,” Daisy agrees. “She’s constantly taking pictures and forcing everyone around her to pose or help film.”

“Film?” I ask. I know Erin is one of those social media people obsessed with fashion, celebrities, and makeup because I glanced over her profile, but I’m still uncertain about what she does. “Pose?”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Whenever we do the Gatherings, she uses them to grow her audience or promote a new brand.”

I’m still not exactly sure what she means, but I let it go. I’m not interested in Erin, and I’m only interested in Lily and her family because they’re attached to Daisy. As much as she hascomplained to her friend about her sister, she loves her family. It’s obvious because she tolerates a lot from them, including disrespect and insults. Which I don’t like.

“How is this going to work?” I ask. “How do you propose I convince your family that I’m madly in love with you?”

She smiles, her cheeks heating again. “I guess you just do stuff that boyfriends do.”

I lift an eyebrow, and she flushes a deeper red. She pats her chest and pulls at the neck of her sweater.

“I mean, we can be affectionate. Hug, and I guess a peck here and there,” Daisy says, looking down at her boots. “My family is pretty open and doesn’t frown upon some PDA.”

My lip twitches. I rub my jaw to hide my smile. “We can work out the details involving PDA later.”

Daisy sinks back in her chair. As much as I’d like to watch her cheeks grow red as I listed the things I’d like to do to her, I don’t think she is on board. She’d be pretty shocked if she knew what I had already imagined.

Maybe I should tell her. See if she wants togeton board.

“What do you want in exchange for posing as my boyfriend?” she asks, breaking my chain of thought.

“I get a free trip to the mountains with a beautiful woman,” I say. “That’s enough for me.”

“Oh no, you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” She looks suddenly dismayed, her hand flying to her mouth. “Or, oh goodness, you don’t have a wife, right?”

“No. I don’t have the time for dating. No girlfriend. No wife.”

She puts her hand to her chest again. “That’s good.”

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