Page 11 of Faking Romance

“I need to make a call,” I say to everyone and no one as I stand and walk over to the side of the bar area where it’s quiet.

I hit call on my phone and Pierce picks up right away.

“You ready for greatness?” he asks.

I frown because I don’t get what he’s saying.

“Because I am going to make you a household name, my friend. That demo was fucking amazing. Wade and I love it! And we’re both in agreement. You’re it. We both want that to bethesong of the film. Hell, I don’t even think we need lyrics. Just that melody. You have no idea how relieved I am to have found the right music. Wade and I were beginning to worry we’d never find it,” he states.

My jaw falls open. I did it. I can’t fucking believe I did it. I was worried that Wade Humphreys, the music supervisor for the film, wouldn’t be as sold on my music as Pierce, but I guess I was wrong.

“Wow. I, uh, thanks,” I stammer as I try to compose myself.

“Sure thing. I’m having a little post-filming party at Dot’s Bar on Twelfth Street next Tuesday around six. I’d love for you to come by,” he says.

“Oh, I…” I trail off as I try to think about what my schedule is next week. I have four contracted performances with the city orchestra, but I can’t remember which dates.

“Not just you. If you have a girlfriend, feel free to bring her,” he says, as though he thought that was my reason for hesitating.

Fuck. “Oh, uh, sure. Yeah. I’ll do that,” I say. Before I even think, the words are out of my mouth. Double fuck.

“Wonderful, can’t wait to meet her. I’ll have Haven with me,” he says, referencing his wife.

“Great,” I say as I still try to wrap my head around the fact that I just told this guy I have a girlfriend, or I implied it.

“OK, see you then. We can talk more logistics over a beer,” he says and then hangs up, leaving me staring at my phone.

“So?” Al asks as he walks over to me.

“I got it,” I say, my focus still on the electronic device in my hand.

I don’t even notice the silence until my friends erupt with cheers. Hutch tosses Ava in the air and she squeals and giggles. “Mr. Gray is gonna be famous!” he says to her and laughs some more.

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by my friends as they hug me and clap me on the back. After a few minutes and a hundred questions, we’re interrupted by the pizza delivery guy, Tony Jr., who has our usual order of two cheese, two pepperoni, and one veggie pizza with two sides of garlic and cheese bread.

Everyone lunges for the food, but Al hangs back with me, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Gray?” he asks.

I look down at him. “I may have implied that I have a girlfriend, and he invited me and thisgirlfriendto a party next Tuesday.”

“Just pretend you broke up,” he suggests with a shrug of his shoulders.

I shake my head. “That’d be weird. It’d be more obvious that I lied.”

“So, just call a woman on one of those dating apps that you kids are always talking about,” Al offers.

I don’t have the heart to tell Al that I haven’t been on any dating app ever. I had girlfriends in college and high school. I was only single for a year or so before Lydia and I started dating and now it’s been almost a year since we broke up. I’ve gone out with a few women that Hutch, Kasen, or Brayden set me up with, but none of them worked out.

“I don’t want to do that,” I reply.

Al cocks his head to one side. “I think I have a young woman who would be a great fake girlfriend for you. I’ll give her a call and have her meet you at this party. Just give me the details.”

I eye him suspiciously. First, how does Al know any single, young women? Two, why not just give me her number? Three, I’m supposed to pretend to be dating someone for a while on a blind date with them? Is he for real?

“Trust me, OK?” he urges with a wink and a pat on my back.

I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. I have got to be crazy. Or desperate. Or both.

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