Page 52 of Love Me Like It's Real
The couple in front of us has completely stopped building their pizza, as have pretty much every other couple.
“Would you two keep it quiet?” asks the original woman who’d had a problem with Hayworth when we first stepped in.
“Sure. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I say with a forced smile and continue to build the pizza while Hayworth is just standing there watching me with a deep frown.
I have to admit. He’s playing his part extremely well. Too well, almost.
Once the pizza is in the oven I dust my hands and turn to him and he huffs.
“Happy now?” he asks.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Of course you are. You always get your way.” He grunts and I feel the laughter threaten to expose us so I contort my face every way possible until the urge passes.
“Maybe my way is the best,” I offer eventually.
“Of course you’d think that!” he huffs.
At this point some of the couples are just watching us like we’re a damn show, and who can blame them since we’re all done with cooking already. This is the lamest cooking class ever.
“Stop acting like a baby. You’re embarrassing me,” I stage-whisper and see a few heads nod along.
“Oh I embarrass you?Iembarrass you? And you don’t? You come back home every day smelling of booze, cigarettes and other men but I embarrass you?”
Woah. What a one-eighty! I wish he’d prepared me for this because I almost choke on my own laughter but I cover it up by coughing and bending over to hide my face behind the counter.
“I can’t believe this. I told you, it’s my job.”
“To sleep with other men?” he fake cries.
I take a deep breath to avoid breaking character. “No! To attend these late-night meetings. It’s not my fault they drink and smoke around me.”
He huffs and folds his arms. “I’m not stupid, Lloyd. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
Lloyd?
Wow, he’s full-on putting on a show without concern for realism here, isn’t he?
“I didn’t say you were born yesterday. I just asked you to trust me!” I shout back.
“Trust? Trust? That trust was broken when I saw the pictures.”
“The pictures?” I ask as if I’ve got something to hide.
“The pictures!” he enunciates. “I’ve seen the orgies. I’ve seen what you do in those meetings.”
The control unleashes from within my grasp and I burst into laughter and yet I manage to turn it into a fake sob.
“Sweetie, I’m sorry.” I reach for him but he brushes me off. I try again and this time he picks up his jacket, throws a “I’ve got nothing to say to you” and storms out.
I’ve got no choice but to follow him.
As soon as we’re out in the front yard he turns to me all rage and fury and I break first. I’ve been suppressing my laughter in for far too long that tears form in my eyes when I let go, but Hayworth joins me soon enough.
“Bravo!” He applauds me. “What a range!”
“Me?” I purse my lips. “What about you? You brought the drama!”
