Page 29 of Faking It

“Ah, looked what the cat dragged in,” a deep drawl sounds behind me as I move toward the balcony where there’s less foot traffic and where the music’s not so loud. “James Carter, as I live and breathe.”

Summoning a polite demeanor, I turn, facing the guy who played a hand in almost ruining my life. I didn’t miss his deliberate use of my first name. He knows how much it pisses me off. “Michael.”

He stops a short distance away, an attempt to keep at eye level with me. With a five-inch advantage on him, a closer range would force him to look upward. Michael’s ego would never allow that.

“Of all the reasons for crawling from under that rock you’ve been hiding under, you chose my little bitty event. I should be flattered.” Amber liquid swirls in the tumbler as he rocks the glass in his hand. “But I’m not.”

“Good for you.”

His silver eyes narrow. “Want to know why I’m not flattered,old friend?”

“I bet you’re just itching to tell me.”

“Because you’re a sellout, a coward.” He stabs a finger in my direction as he speaks. “A fucking spineless bastard.”

Michael’s comment earns a few glances from people nearby. I calmly narrow the distance between us. “But you love scapegoats, don’t you? Perfect to hide behind, am I right?”

“Oh, you should’ve been honored that I gave you that privilege, you ungrateful shit.”

“Yeah, I felt so honored when the cops put me in handcuffs and threatened to slap me with a drug charge,” I spit. “Or when the tabloids have me painted as a violent, destructive monster. That was so much fun.”

Michael rolls his eyes at my sarcastic tone. “As if my dad didn’t get you off that charge. And so, what if people think you’re a monster? You were never a saint before those incidents, anyway.”

I close the distance between him, seething. “Before then, I was a dumb kid who did stupid shit, you know that. Getting in a few tussles with the paparazzi won’t compare to being a drug addict.”

Michael clicks his tongue impatiently. “The charges didn’t stick!” he hisses. “You don’t have a fucking record.”

“The court of public opinion matters just as much,” I retort sharply.

“Whatever.” He flashes me off. “Fuck you and your cowardice, fuck the court of opinion, and you know what? Fuck your dad for pushing me to invite you here.”

Seriously?

He catches the surprise on my face and smirks. “You thought I did it out of the goodness of my heart, didn’t you? No, dude. Your dad called me the other day, laying it on thick about how far we’ve come, and I shouldn’t forget that. Fuck me for having a bleeding heart. I felt sorry for you when he told me about that social boost you wanted.”

Social boost?I almost laugh.Oh, Dad. You shouldn’t have.

Michael downs the liquid, then swipes at his mouth when he’s done. The anger in his eyes intensifies. “You wouldn’t need a boost if you hadn’t jumped ship, you fucking idiot. Who the hell gives up such a glamorous life?”

“You’re pissed off because things ended on my terms, not yours,” I reply calmly. “For once, you didn’t get your own way. Guess what, I don’t give a fuck. That was my decision.My life.”

“It wasn’t just about you. We were a team. Your decision affected me.”

“A team.” Now I laugh. “We weren’t a team. I was the fall guy. You were the instigator behind all that shit.”

His face curls into a sneer.

“I heard about the cops’ early morning raid last month. Must’ve pissed your pants, huh?” I smirk. “Yeah, I’d be upset if I couldn’t hide behind the big, bad, unruly Gideon anymore. Now, everyone is seeing who the real Michael Galanos is. Your book of sins is wide open for the entire world to judge you.”

“My sins, as you call them, are still hidden where they belong. Those cops have already paid dearly for their audacity,” he replies haughtily.

“Mhm. Let’s see how long your father’s influence will last. He can’t buy out the entire police department.”

I expected a snarky reply, but he jerks his chin toward the glass balcony. “The has-beens are by the pool, Gideon,” he snarls. “Standing right beside the never-beens. How about you join them? I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

I resist the urge to flip my middle finger at him before he walks away. Despite my negative feelings toward him, he’s still the host. I’ll show him respect until I leave this god-forsaken place.

At least, I’ll try.

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