Page 59 of Waiting for Acceptance
Damn right.
We pull up to the hotel where the event is being held, and I take the chance to check my hair and make-up while he parks. Before I can shut the mirror and unbuckle, he’s at my door, opening it and offering me his hand.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing you be…nice.”
“Really?” he muses, shutting my door behind me. He starts walking in front of me, then I notice his hand outstretched behind him—waiting for mine. I place my fingers in his palm and his hand quickly envelopes mine. He moves to intertwineour fingers and something resembling butterflies, flutters to life in my stomach. He leans into me and whispers, “I’d say I was pretty nice last night. You woke up nice and toasty, didn’t you?” He pulls back just enough for his eyes to meet mine and I shake my head at him.
“I—” I’m cut off when a dark-haired man in a three-piece suit approaches us.
“Fitz,” the man says sternly, but Fitz lets his eyes linger on me a bit longer before turning to face the man. He looks upset, but I can’t tell why.
“Father.”Oh, that explains it.I have to keep my expression under control because I was not expecting this man to be hisfather.
“You’re late.” Fitz checks his watch, looking back at him with a blank expression.
“It’s 8:15. I’m an hour early.” They stare at each other for long enough that my anxious need to fill the silence kicks in.
“Hi, I’m Lauren. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I offer him my hand and he looks down at it before barely shaking it. Ew, my seven-year-old godson has a better handshake than him.
“The girlfriend, I presume?” I try to ignore the disapproval dripping from his tone, but it’s damn near impossible.
I force a smile. “You presume correctly.”
“Well, maybe next time you can get him up on time. Remind him that being late isn’t good for his image. If you even care.” He looks me up and down and I feel my face grow warm with embarrassment.
“Don’t speak to her like that. I’m fully capable of getting myself up and here on time, as I’ve done for every other event I’ve ever been to.” He takes a step closer to his father, invading his space as his jaw tightens. “And if you can’t speak to her with respect, then don’t bother speaking to her at all,” Fitz growls back at him and it takes me completely by surprise. I squeezehis hand and after facing off with his father a moment longer, he finally looks down at me. “We’re going to make sure everything is ready in the conference room.” He barely gets the sentence out before he’s pulling my hand, guiding me down the hallway.
I look behind us, seeing his father now outside on the phone, then turn back to Fitz. “What the hell was that?” I pull my hand away but he grabs it back quickly, his grip tighter now, but not so much so that it’s painful. It’s firm, like he needs it.
“Your unfortunate introduction to the man from whom I get my name.” I stop for a moment and take him in—seeing the anger in his eyes, the way his chest looks tight, and how his nostrils flare as he looks back at his father. “I am so sorry he spoke to you that way. I knew he’d probably have some issues with me bringing someone he didn’t hand-pick for me, but that—” the anger builds as he rubs his free hand over his mouth. “That was unacceptable.” I’ve never seen Fitz like this before. Sure I’ve seen him upset, but this? This is something completely different. I know the feeling of having parents that make you want to be anywhere, or anyoneelse, and from my very brief introduction to his dad, I fear that may be a common denominator between us.
“Hey.” I reach up and guide his eyes back to me, cupping his cheek in my hand. “Look at me. This is why I’m here, right? When you feel…whatever you’re feeling right now. Find me and clear your mind. I’m sure I won’t be far.” His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and his chest finally relaxes. Then he grabs either side of my face and leans in, making my breath stall, yet again, before he kisses my nose. He grabs my hand again, intertwining our fingers and his thumb caresses mine, leading us to the conference room. He’s making a habit out of kissing my nose, and I’m not sure I like how comfortable I am with it.
I’ve always considered myself a good businesswoman. I learn my trade and excel in every avenue of it. But I only treatbusinesslike business, not my entire life, friendships or relationships. I fear I’ve met my match in professionalism with Fitz, because he’s flawlessly taken on his promotion to fake boyfriend, not holding back in the role. Whereas I foolishly thought things wouldn’t change that much. If the lines are already blurring, and we’ve only been at this, officially, for 24 hours, then I’m gonna be screwed trying to keep my head straight for the nextyear. He kisses my nose and holds my hand in public like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Meanwhile, I can’t decide if I still hate him or not. Today is not the day to debate that though. Today I’m in full fake girlfriend mode. Which shouldn’t be too hard to do since I get the feeling the best way I’ll be able to be here for him, is to distract him from any interactions with his dad.
After ensuring everything is in place in the room Fitz is speaking in, he takes us to the registration table to get our name badges. They’re laminated and have little VIP ribbons in the top corner that give us access to the open bar and a mixer later tonight. I can’t imagine having to do this on a regular basis, it seems absolutely exhausting. Sure it was fun when I got to come to my first one last year, but it’s a lot different on the other side. They sell out of these tickets months in advance and the speakers do two different events—keynote speaking and a panel with the other colleagues.
“I’ll take one last question before it’s time to wrap up.” Hands shoot up all across the room and I watch as Fitz picks someone out. Pointing to a man a few rows behind me.
“Why is social media marketing such a big deal for real estate? I mean, if people want to look for a house, chances are they’re going to visit the website to begin with, right? I understand having an app to download to make it easier to browse, but why social media?” I practically choke trying to cover up my half scoff, half laugh, catching the attention of theman of the hour. Fitz raises a brow and smirks at me, and I feel the embarrassment all over my face.
“I’m going to let my associate, Ms. Long, answer that question for you. Ms. Long is one of the most educated people I know in the sense of media marketing. Lauren.” He holds his hand out, motioning for me to take the floor, but I’m still shaken from the complement he just gave me. I finally recover and scowl at him, standing up and taking the microphone from the girl who randomly appears with one.
“Oh, thank you.” I hold the mic up, addressing the whole room. “Social media marketing has resulted in a 60% increase for most real estate companies that utilize it properly. Think about it, you’ve been pondering the idea of moving for a while, dreaming up where you’d like to live. Maybe you and your partner, roommate, or family have been discussing it, but you don’t think your dream home is out there. One day, you’re scrolling Instagram, or any other social site of your choice, and you stop when you see it—your dream house. With a perfectly manicured lawn, the two-car garage you need to keep from fighting over who has to park in the rain, and even a doggy bath in the mudroom for Fido. You click the link and a few weeks later, you’re in your new dream home.”
The guy scoffs. “Yeah, but like. how often will that actually happen?”
“I’ve had fifteen clients this year tell me they came across my company’s listings while scrolling on social media. It’s a big deal. If you don’t trust me, trust the stats.” He sinks back down into his seat and people begin clapping. I hand the mic back to the girl, Aimee—aww, that makes me missmyAmy—and catch a wink from Fitz before I take my seat.
“Well, I think I know who will be speaking at the next event. Thank you, Ms. Long, for that insight on social media marketing.” The smile on his face is truly captivating as he clapsand dismisses the room for lunch. I remain in my seat, waiting for him to move before I do, but he practically falls into the chair next to me.
“Wow. That was amazing.” I look over at him and see the smaller, playful smirk on his lips.
“Just shop talk.” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing.
“You seem so passionate about what you do, and you’re so charming while you’re up there.” I glower at him. “Oh my god, you’re an even better actor than I am.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
