Page 44 of The Fake Dating Plan

“Who the hell are you hiding!” I heard the voice say. It sounded familiar.

“What makes you think I’m hiding a person.” I could hear their footsteps getting louder and their voices clearer as they drew closer.

“Is it—”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, my god it’s her!” And as she said so, a young woman in her twenties stumbled into the doorway. She looked like a female carbon copy version of Ax. Her black hair had white highlights. That was the only fashion statement on her. Unlike the rest of the Reid clan, who took their appearance seriously, she wore clothes according to necessity. Her jeans and sweater were more functional than fashionable. When she saw me, her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face. She turned to Ax, who was standing directly behind her, and said, “And she’s in your bed!”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “Hi, Francie.”

Francie burst into the apartment like a hell storm. Her first port of call was the fridge, as always, where she took out a bottle of orange juice and drank some. She ruffled further into the fridge and took out some salami and groaned in appreciation. She looked like she was coming from a hunting excursion with her boots, big bottle-green coat, and thick cream sweater. Knowing her, she was probably coming from a date. But wherever she had been, I wish she had stayed there.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her.

“Hello to you too. Hi Gerry.” Gerry looked up from the soup he was making and nodded at Francie.

“I thought you’d be gone for the day.”

She strode over to where I was standing, next to Gerry, peered into the pot, and asked, “Why are you making soup?”

“None of your business,” I said.

“I wasn’t asking you. You’re not ill, are you?”

“Where have you been?”

“Mom dragged me all over town, in and out of shops, and in and out of clothes. I knew I shouldn’t have come back to New York. Why is Gerry making soup?”

If she was with mom, no wonder she was hungry. Francie looked around and her gaze stopped when she noticed Emilia’s coat draped over the couch. I had brought it with me when I carried her back here and threw it there.

“Is the soup for a woman.”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

She frowned, pursed her lips, then they widened into a smile. “Is this a different woman? Is she special?”

“Francie—”

“Oh, my God!” She covered her mouth. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“I think you need to go. Go find someplace to stay that isn’t here.” I fished out my wallet and took out my card. “On me. You can stay in your favorite hotel. All expenses paid.”

“Fuck that. I want to see her. When mom said you two were back together, I thought she was out of her mind.”

“We’re not back together.” Then I remembered the deal I struck with her. It was to fool mom, but if we were going to pull it off successfully, everyone had to be fooled. “I mean, it’s complicated.”

“So it’s Em. I have to see her. She looks great now if her Insta is anything to go by. Is that why you bought her business, to get back into her pants?”

“That is not what’s going on.” Technically, it was, but I didn’t have time to explain myself to her. I wanted my annoying little sister out of the apartment so I could spend some time alone with Emilia. I was barely tolerating Gerry, who was taking forever to make the soup. Before I could stop her, Francie was making her way up the stairs. I tried to stop her, call out to her, but she reached my bedroom first.

“And she’s in your bed!” she screamed at me. Of course, she would think we were fucking.

“Hi Francie,” Em said with a quiet voice. She seemed just as embarrassed as I was, and her eyes as she stared at me seemed to say, ‘get her out of here.’

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

“Then what is it?”

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