Page 22 of Faking Romance

He sighs and puts a finger up to the bartender who nods and pours more gin into Grayson’s glass.

“And…what would you like?” Grayson asks. I don’t answer. “Give us just a minute,” he tells the bartender who mutters, “OK” and walks away, tossing a towel onto his shoulder.

“I bailed your ass out. I’m leaving. You can tell Pierce we had a fight or something,” I mutter as I turn to leave. A hand grabs my wrist and I pause, spinning back around on my stiletto heels.

“Please stay, just for one drink. I feel bad. I didn’t know Al was…I didn’t know,” Grayson pleads. His eyes search mine and for reasons unknown to my conscious, I agree.

“Fine. One drink,” I state. “But only because I’m all dressed up, so I might as well enjoy a…” I look up at the board. “A kir royale.”

“One kir royale,” Grayson says to the bartender before turning back to me.

“I…” I look around us suddenly feeling super awkward. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

I scurry away before he can answer me and head toward the back of the bar, which is where I assume they are. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the restroom sign with an arrow. Weaving around partygoers, I make my way there. Under normal circumstances, I'd be looking for celebrities and excited that I’m at a Hollywood party, but today, I’m just annoyed. I find one of the unisex single-person bathrooms unoccupied, and I step inside and lock the door behind me.

I press my back against it and pull my phone out of my small purse. I have no idea why, but I call Jocelyn because my siblings won’t understand, Tay is too many time zones ahead to be awake, and Carly and Cam are clearly on team Grayson.

“Roxy?” she answers, her voice filled with confusion. “I thought you had the big date tonight.”

“I do,” I whisper.

“Why are we whispering?” she asks in a whisper.

I groan. “I don’t know. I’m in the bathroom.”

“Is it that bad?” she asks.

“Worse,” I reply as I push off the door and walk in front of the mirror. I look good. Which now seems like such a waste of makeup and hair product.

“Does he have bad hair? Oh, wait, he’s like catfishing you. Is he seventy with missing teeth?” Jocelyn asks.

“It’s a blind date. How could he be catfishing me?” I ask with a frown as I set my purse down and pull out my red lipstick.

“OK, so what’s wrong?” she asks.

“It’s Grayson.”

There’s no response. The line is silent. I pull the phone away from my face and look down at it. “Jocelyn?”

“Yeah. I’m here. Just…processing. So, is this a hard-pass situation? Like, you could never date Grayson?” she asks.

“I mean…he’s my neighbor…and he sort of doesn’t like me,” I stammer as I try to explain myself.

“One, he’s your hot neighbor. And two, he doesn’t like noise. He never said he doesn’t likeyou,” she points out and I hate that she’s right.

“Yeah. OK. But he’s so…just…you know,” I try to find the words, but I’m failing epically.

“Just give him a chance. You never know. Plus, this will make for amazing social media fodder. Like seriously, do it for the followers,” she says, her voice rising on the last statement.

“I don’t know,” I say as I chew on my lower lip. I don’t want to make things worse between Grayson and me. “I don’t really think it’s a blind date. I think he wants me to pretend to be his girlfriend. I remember Carly saying something about how he told some people he needed a fake girlfriend for this event, and then Al asks me to do him this favor by going on a blind date, and when I got here that producer came over to meet Grayson’sgirlfriend,” I explain in rapid succession.

“Shit. I still say do it. You get followers, he gets a fake girlfriend…I mean, have a talk with him about this whole fake-girlfriend thing, but maybe by doing this, he’ll warm up to you, and the store,” she says.

I stop chewing on my lip and stare at my reflection. “Fuck it. OK. You aren’t wrong. Maybe it will help. I mean, if I’m doing him this favor, then maybe he’ll lay off us about any noise we might make.”

“And for the followers,” she adds.

“Yeah, yeah. That too. OK, I’m going back out there. Wish me luck,” I say.

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