Page 45 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

The clapping and cheers lasted long enough to cause my traitorous blush to heat up my entire face. I put the mic on the stand and swept the room for the one face I needed to see. Disappointment nearly knocked the wind from me. Luke hadn’t stayed for the entire song.

I left the stage, and a few people stopped to tell me the performance was great. But there was really only one person’s approval I was seeking, and he couldn’t even be bothered to sit through a four-minute song. A new singer went on stage. I walked to the bar. The woman standing behind it was smiling. “That was fantastic. What can I get you?”

“Just a glass of water, please. Did you see Lucas?” She looked confused. “Tall, dark hair, wearing a black T-shirt, I think.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Greyson.” She leaned closer. “Just between you and me, those two are going to make next year’sPeoplemagazine cover. They look like something the Greek gods produced.”

“Those two?” I asked, but I knew then and it hit me harder than expected. Luke had left with Alex.

I drank the glass of water and left the party for the refuge of my oversized guest room. As I passed the room that led to the veranda, I decided a few gulps of fresh air would do me a world of good. I pushed out the French doors. An almost crisp breeze was floating over the immaculate grounds, carrying with it the fresh scent of grass and roses. Even the smells were snobby and exuded wealth. I sat on one of the outdoor sofas and rested back. I was right. The cool air was washing away some of the wretched feelings that had taken hold. Between the crickets’ rhythmic tunes and the leaves ruffling in the breeze, I heard a woman’s laugh, light and airy and annoyingly posh. Rich people didn’t even know how to laugh organically. It all came with those overtones of ridiculous and surely undeserved privilege.

Then two figures emerged on the path coming up from the rose garden. I didn’t need more than the splash of moonlight and lights on the footpath to recognize the statuesque, gorgeous couple. She had her arms wrapped tightly around his, and she even rested her head against his shoulder as they walked.

I hopped up, rushed into the house and ran for my room. Tears were falling by the time I was safely tucked inside. I flew toward the bed and launched myself into the pile of pillows. “You’re a stupid, stupid girl, Isla Lovely.” I knew going in that this was nothing more than a business proposition. But I let my guard down and fell for the man anyway. Well, I’d certainly learned my lesson. I just wished it wouldn’t be such a painful one.

“Time for a bubble bath.” My phone beeped as I dropped down from the bed. It was a text from Luke.

“You are an incredible singer … angel.”

I stared at the text for a long minute, then threw the phone onto the bed. It rang as I reached the bathroom. I hurried back to see if he actually had the nerve to call me after he’d ducked out on theincredible singer. It was Ella.

“Hey, El, everything all right?”

“That’s what I’m calling to ask you. I was out walking on the beach, admiring the moonlight on the waves, and a cold wind brushed past me. It felt dark and clammy, so I rushed inside to make sure you were all right.”

I climbed up on the mountain of pillows, grew frustrated with how slippery and satiny they were and threw three across the room in quick succession and with a grunt.

“Uh-oh, three grunts. That can’t be good. I’m glad I called. Is it still the wretched mother?”

“This time it’s the wretched man. Oh, El, I’m such a fool. I told myself I could do this and keep it business-like?—”

“But your heart got in the way,” Ella finished for me. “In your defense—he is quite dreamy and tall and even his voice sort of makes your legs wobble.”

“Not helping,” I said.

“Right and none of that matters—the strong jaw, incredible physique and green eyes—if he has a wretched soul.”

I yanked yet another pillow out from behind me and hurled it across the room. “Ridiculous pillows. Seriously, what can you possibly do with so many pillows. You’ve only got one head.”

“Uh, I’m confused. Does Luke have a pillow problem?”

I laughed and it felt good. “No, sorry. I got sidetracked by the ludicrous number of pillows on the bed, and that’s just it, El, I don’t think he has a wretched soul. He’s charming and kind and funny. But I’m not part of his world. We might as well be from different planets. The woman his mom matched him with—the match he tried to avoid—she’s part of his world. They are a stunning couple. By the way—” I sat up into my juicy gossip position on the bed. It caused two more pillows to fall on the floor. “Remember when I told you there was a karaoke party?”

“That’s right. How’d you do?”

Bringing it up reopened the wound. “I thought I did pretty well, but Luke was too preoccupied with Alexandria. They left in the middle of my performance.”

“What a stinker. How was her performance? Did all her years of training pay off?”

“Meh, she wasn’t all that great, but here’s the kicker. She stole my song. She saw me pick The Chicks’ ‘Cowboy Take Me Away,’ so she showed up in her posh western look, and she marched right up on that stage and sang my song.”

“Oh my gosh, it’s Sandy Ingersoll all over again. Remember when she stole my poem in the recital?”

I smiled. “Yes, El, because you’ve brought it up at least once a year since the sixth grade. But you’re right. It’s Sandy Ingersoll all over again, only Sandy wore braces and she had that funny lisp. Alexandria looks like she stepped out of a mold, like she was created in some lab where they make perfect humans.”

“She probably did,” Ella said.

I laughed.

---