Page 62 of Is This for Real?
“No, I’ve got to answer emails.”
We set up our laptops across from each other on the kitchen table. Cue the commercial for cute couple working.
The sky darkens.
I stare out the window at the rain coming down in straight lines. The weekend is not working to quell my feelings for Rory. If anything, the opposite. My feelings are deepening. It’s like he sprinkles this fairy dust over our encounters, making them magical. He is right about love.
And I’m at a loss for more disasters I can create. I like eating too much to destroy our food supply. And my body is pretty sore and tired from the activities of the weekend already.
The best way to get over Rory might be to take a break from him. I should suggest we stop fake dating—for self-preservation. I can’t cling to another unrequited crush. Even though I don’t think it is an unrequited crush. Rory is interested, but apparently not enough. Anyway, I can’t get involved now, just when I’m on the brink of success with my novel. I need my head filled with plot twists and deepening emotional connection—not Rory.
The outdoor patio umbrella on the upper deck is rocking back and forth in the wind, trying to stay upright in its cement stand. The umbrella itself keeps fluttering up; it’s not tied tightly enough. That would be my feelings—trying to spread out and twirl but getting knocked over by the turbulent air. I grab my coat. I go outside, head bent against the wind and rain, to lay the umbrella down before it falls over and breaks.
“Time to take you out of this battle,” I say to the umbrella.
Chapter eighteen
To: Penelope
From: Agent
Date: Sunday
Thank you for sending usMidnight Masquerade.I am sorry to say that it wasn’t the perfect fit for my list. Although I like your voice and your character, there’s too much backstory. This process is subjective, so we are sure another agent will feel differently. We hope you soon find a home for it with another agent.
Istareatthisrejection. I only have one more query outstanding.
This confirms my decision not to tell Rory we should date for real, and instead, I should pull away. We finished cleaning the rest of the house this morning, and we were back in the city by midafternoon. He dropped me off at my apartment. It was quick, as if we both had made the decision to retreat and not cross any more lines. I was about to suggest we stop fake dating, but then he brought up that Callie was having a birthday party dinner catered at her house on Thursday. I asked him if he needed me as a barrier. He said that he hadn’t wanted to interfere with my writing schedule, but he would love for me to come. I’m far enough ahead in my writing that I felt okay saying yes. Then I mentally kicked myself for not sticking to my resolution to disengage. But I decided that, after dinner, I will end this fake dating arrangement.
The last agent said there wasn’t enough backstory inMidnight Masquerade, and this agent says there's too much. I need to figure it out for myself. If only my own backstory was not holding me back.
Chapter nineteen
Iamawritingmachine. Pages are pouring out of me as all the confusion and mixed emotions of fake dating someone I’ve fallen for are translated into words. But now I close down my laptop. Tomorrow is October 1, so it’s time for a Halloween-themed store window, even though I’d much rather stay here and keep writing, especially when the words are flowing. But I’ve made this commitment. And later, I’m going as Rory’s fake date to a dinner party hosted by Callie.
I bike over to the store with a full backpack of props. I hang bats upside down from the window display ceiling. A mannequin is running full-out, with its head looking back to see what’s following it.
Brawny Brian surveys my supplies by the windows.
“Well, at least we’re saving money by not hiring a window decorator,” he says. “Really, a sheet for the ghost?”
“Why did you think sales was a good career for you?” I ask. “Your encouraging vibe? All the positivity emanating from you?” Brian should be the model for my antagonist inFake Dating Folly. “Do you have any more creative ideas for making a ghost?”
The sheet is draped over a wire, ghost-shaped contraption. I take my “ghost” out to the store’s small backyard and hang it from a plant hook that used to hold a rhododendron. I drape the sheet in a ghost-like way and liberally spray it with starch. This is the way I’d make a dollhouse curtain—but with a lot less spray starch. I bring the ghost back in and hang it in the window, chasing the fleeing mannequin.
Brian goes outside and then comes back in, and I brace myself for his biting feedback. “It actually looks good,” he says. “Especially the sign to get in shape before the ghosts get you. I like it.”
I wonder how much window decorators make. Yet another stream of income to add to my motley mix of jobs. But at least it’s another creative career and meshes well with my mini-scene skills. I know Theresa thinks I need a “real” job, but these are real jobs, and I am supporting myself.
I pose my two “Penelope and Rory” dolls in my miniature gym that still sits in one corner of the window. Rob is spotting Piper as she lifts weights. I post the photo on Instagram. I’ll write up a blog post later tonight, after Callie’s birthday dinner.
I’m seated at the opposite end of the table from Rory. Callie has place cards. Rory is next to Callie. But at least I’m next to Jake, and we were both part of Rory’s circle in college, so we’re friends. The place card for his girlfriend, Audrey, seats her on the other side of Rory. I wasn’t expecting Jake to be here, but he is Rory’s best friend, so I guess Callie knows him well from when she and Rory dated. Callie’s business school friends seem to comprise the rest of the guests.
Audrey is the last to arrive, as she has some big case at work, and when she kisses Jake hello, she whispers to me, “We can always switch later if you want, so you can sit next to Rory. Or Jake and I can switch so I can hear all about your novel. I can’t wait to buy it.”
“Thank you for supporting my Etsy shop. You don’t have to,” I say to her.
“I love minis. I give the mini flowers to my friends for their birthdays. It’s the perfect New York City gift—it’s beautiful, it doesn’t take up much space, it doesn’t die, and it’s unique.”
