Page 12 of Faking Romance

“Yeah, alright. But, Al”—I pause as I look at him—“she has to understand it’s just a short-term fake thing.”

“Of course, of course,” he assures me with a smile and walks back over to join our friends as they dig into the pizzas.

I stand there for a few seconds as I consider the events of the last twenty minutes. Everything is going to be different now. I’ve done it. I actually made this music career work. I text the only family member that I still regularly speak with, my sister.

Me: My music got approved by the producer.

Adriana: OMG! Congrats! That’s awesome. Maybe that’ll help Mom and Dad come around.

Me: Highly doubt that.

Adriana: You never know.

Me: I won’t be holding my breath over here.

Adriana: Still, I’m proud of you.

Me: Thanks, Ad.

I put my phone in my pocket. My parents disowned me when I told them I wasn’t going to be part of their family business and would instead be pursuing music. I won’t lie. A part of me would love to rub it in their faces. But first, I need signed contracts…and a fake girlfriend.

CHAPTERFIVE

Roxy

I sit on the floor surrounded by a pile of boxes with Jocelyn next to me. She’s sorting merch and I’m sorting books. I’ve had so much delivered here over the past few months, but the real work has been these last few weeks.

Troy is here installing a new light fixture. Al had saved some antique chandeliers from his wife’s store and offered them up for the store. They are gorgeous and perfectly in line with the vibe I’m going for.

“Hey, you want a coffee?” I ask as I glance at my watch. We’ve been at it for three hours.

“Sure,” she says, not looking up from where she is entering quantities of stickers she’s unboxing into my inventory database.

“I’ll be back.” I get up and dust off my jeans. I make my way across the street to a little café where I discovered Cam works.

She looks up as I walk inside.

“Hey,” she greets me with a smile.

“Hi. Can I get two…” I trail off as I read the sign written in chalk behind her. “Caramel mocha lattes?” I finish.

“Coming right up. You should try our double-fudge muffins. I added a little something extra in them and they are amazeballs,” she says as she gets to work making our drinks.

“Sure. I’ll take two,” I say as I look around the café. It’s a bakery that serves coffee. There are dozens of types of pastries and cakes under the glass of the display case. I’ve stopped over here a few times this week.

“So, how are things?” I ask, trying to make small talk while she finishes frothing some milk.

“Good. The owner of this place is looking to sell it,” she leans over the counter. “I think I might try to buy it.”

“Seriously?” I ask.

She shrugs and goes back to making the lattes. “Yeah. I have just enough saved that I might be able to put down some and pay the rest with a small business loan.”

“Well, having just done some of that myself, I have plenty of tips. So let me know if you need any help,” I offer.

The door to the café opens and Carly walks inside.

“I need a double macchiato and two triple-chocolate oatmeal cookies, STAT,” she declares as she walks over and leans on the bar top at the end of the counter.

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