Page 16 of Faking Romance

“I like women who wear their hair up in a ponytail or bun. I mean, not like all the time, but sometimes,” I mumble as I try to rationalize why I am vocalizing these words. I sound like an idiot.

“Got it. OK, I think that’s enough to work with. I’ll find you a date. When was this party, again?”

I don’t even need to pull out my phone to check the party details. I’ve been worrying about it for days now. Pierce Pointer had emailed me with the details for the film’s post-filming party. It was in two more days at a bar not far from here. I should have called Pierce then. I should have told him the truth or at least lied and said my ex and I broke up, which isn’t a total lie, we did break up, months ago.

I hold out my phone and show him the calendar.

“I’ll find you a date before then,” he assures me.

“Al, I can seriously just ask a friend or something,” I say as I think of Cam or Carly. As if reading my mind, he laughs.

“Ava has ballet practice that night, so Carly won’t be available. And Cam is meeting with the owner of her bakery to talk about buying out the business,” he says.

And there goes my two most likely dates. I fucking hate this. Why did I have to lie? What the hell is wrong with me?

Al pats my shoulder as he walks to the door. “Gray, it’ll be fine. We all fuck up once in a while. You just need to see this through. You can always fake a breakup later. It’s Hollywood. Those things happen all the time. And plus, you need to start dating again. And this is the perfect excuse.”

I give him a deadpan stare. “Al, this wouldn’t be a real date. Remember, fake date.”

He waves a hand at me. “Sure thing. Fake date. It’ll be like practice for a very overdue real one.”

I roll my eyes. “Right.”

He opens the door and turns back to me. “You know, I met Edith on a blind date.”

I look over at him. He has a ghost of a smile on his lips. “She walked into the restaurant in a red dress, and I knew then that I could never let a woman that gorgeous get away or I’d regret it for the rest of my life. Then, we spent the whole night talking, and by the end of the date, I knew she was the one.”

“You’re a lucky man, Al.” I pause and then add, “To have known a love like that…it’s special. Not everyone gets to experience that.”

He nods. “I know. I miss her every day.”

I give him a sad smile. “We all do,” I state because it’s true. Edith was a great lady and everyone in this building misses her warm smiles, bear hugs, and apple strudel on Sundays.

“See you, Al,” I add as he opens the door and leaves me alone with my thoughts, which are a melting pot of high ponytails, fake romances, and blind dates. Even my music doesn’t push them away. Instead, I lean into them and use my instruments to pour my feelings out into the universe, as if I’m some sort of Pied Piper that can call the perfect woman with my musical notes.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Roxy

I put my hands on my hips and swivel. A smile threatens to form on my face as I look at my bookstore. It’s actually looking like a bookstore. I have a tablet set up for payment. There are books on the shelves. Tables sit throughout the store with more books, T-shirts, bookmarks, stickers, and other merchandise. The pale pink walls, antique chandeliers, and floral theme make my threatening smile emerge despite all my jitters about my upcoming soft opening.

“It looks great,” Jocelyn says from beside me as she stands up next to the bookshelf she was organizing.

“It does. We just need to finish the reading nook, the book club area, and that selfie area,” I state as I mentally tick off items in my head.

“Sooo…” Jocelyn says as she follows my gaze around the room. “Are we still planning a soft opening for a week from Monday?”

I nod slowly because it feels like pulling off a bandage on a wound that may or may not be completely healed. I’ve dreamed of this for years. My obsession with romance books started when I was fifteen and spent two weeks at my grandmother’s house. I found her old romance books and devoured them. Then, I’d sneak off to the bookstore or the library and find more. My siblings are all overachievers. I was not. So while they were winning awards and sports games, I was curled up with my books. It sort of became my entire personality. While my brother and sisters began doing amazing things with their adult lives, I floundered. Sure, I went to college, but then I couldn’t figure out what to do. I felt paralyzed. I took odd jobs that paid minimum wage. I dated all the wrong men for all the wrong reasons. And the final blow was when my ex cheated on me. I knew my life trajectory was going in the wrong direction as I had loaded my boxes into my car following our breakup and then into my old childhood bedroom. There was no way I wanted to continue down this path, but I felt stuck.

Until my grandmother died. God, that was awful. But somehow, through all of it, I survived.

And then I learned about my inheritance. It was way more than I ever thought possible. And so, I started to dream big. Hell, I started to dream period. I hadn’t done that in years. One night while going through a box of books, I had this idea. It was only an idea, but soon it grew bigger like a flame being stoked. I had no clue if I could pull it off, but here I am. Standing inside my dream next tomyemployee. Holy shitballs! I did it. I just hope I can make it work. I’m not sure I can survive my dream being crushed.

“Yep. It’s time to double up on our social media posts. I’m not changing the date now. We’re doing this,” I state as there’s a knock at the door.

Walking over to it, I open the door to find Al standing there.

He looks past me and smiles. “Edith, my wife, would love this. It’s beautiful,” he says before focusing back on me. He had mentioned her before and I learned that it was her antique store that was in here before I leased the space. It makes my heart hurt for Al. And it makes me feel silly for being upset about my cheating ex when Al has lost the love of his life.

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