Page 25 of Faking It

I have a wedding to shoot that day. Not that I’ll ever tell him that. My dad can never find out I’m running a photography company.

Especially after I read that fine print.

“You’re going, James. It’s not up for debate.”

“The last time I checked, I’m old enough to make my own decision. It’s a no,” I reply firmly.

There’s a brief pause on my father’s end, then he mumbles. “The lengths you go to force me into villainhood. I didn’t want to do this, but so be it. You’re not out of the woods regarding our agreement, remember that.”

He doesn’t need to say anymore. I quickly read between the lines.

“You won’t have this power forever, Dad.Remember that.Someday, I’m going to pay you back.”

“And until then, you’ll do what I ask.” I hear the smugness in his tone. “You’re going to show up to that party, make nice with Michael, rub shoulders with the executives, and sell yourself. By the time this movie wraps, you should be drowning in offers, making me proud again.”

I slam my car door hard, staring at the phone screen, so tempted to end the call right now. Knowing he has my balls in a tight grip quells that urge. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, wishing I could wrap them around my investment manager Jeremy’s neck instead. Fuck him for leaving me in this position. I’d be living my best life if he’d kept his grubby paws to himself.

“Did you hear what I said?” Dad thunders.

“Heard,” I simply reply, pressing the start button. “Talk to you later. I have to go.”

He grunts in response, and I cut the call. It won’t be today or tomorrow, but whatever it takes, I’ll pay my debt. I’ll free myself from his control. After then, he’ll be dead to me.

Chapter 8

Ana

“Okay, so I love that grunge aesthetic, honey,” Tori says, her index finger circling my loose-T-shirt-and-leggings-clad frame. “It might be cute for a night on the couch but not the club. Sorry, you need to go change. Micah pulled out all the stops to get this invite, and we can’t make him look bad.”

I narrow my eyes at her as she squeezes her way past me. “Clearly, you missed the text message I sent you.”

“What text message?” she asks, digging into her purse. I cross my arms as she swipes across the screen with her middle finger. “Oh.”

“Mhmm-Mhmm.”

“Bummer.”

Tori kicks off her heels and moves further into the living room, stepping over Logan’s sneakers on the floor while making a face at them.

“Yeah, it is, but this bartending gig is paying double what I’d earn at Frank’s. I have to be there in an hour.”

She stares at me with concern. “Bartending? Not the kind of job you wanted to go back to, huh?”

I shrug. “Not really. I’m not looking forward to mixing cocktails and enduring the smell of alcohol, but I’ve got bills to pay. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

My best friend sighs. “I’m still waiting on that casting director to get back to me regarding that role. Until then, I wish you’d let me help you, instead of taking a gig you hate doing.”

“You’ve done enough, Tori. You’re literally being my agent pro-bono.” I haul the T-shirt over my head while making my way to the bedroom.

Tori’s footsteps follow me. “I don’t expect payment if there are no decent jobs coming in. My other clients are paying me enough to get by. When you make it big, so will I.”

“Mhmm.”

“Is that self-doubt I hear? Don’t let me shake some optimism into you,” she threatens.

“I’m not doubting myself.” I throw the T-shirt on the bed with a sigh. “It’s been a week since Cheryl Adams rejected me, and I’m still bummed over it. After acing the audition, I thought that would be my break. A part of me feels scared to try again.”

“That fear is only another hurdle to your dreams. Leap over it, sweetie. You’re way too talented to give up.”

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