Page 80 of The Fake Dating Plan

“Why?” Mom said.

“Who did you want to piss off?” Francie said.

“Heron.”

“You two are still going on with that stupid vendetta of yours.”

“Yes. But I might as well retire it since he’s the one who keeps winning.”

“Why would you do that? Do it for us?” Mom asked. She didn’t appear angry, as I thought she would. If anything, she seemed concerned.

I let out a deep sigh I had been holding for a while. “I thought maybe you would be happy again if you saw me with her again. I thought… I don’t know what I was thinking, that maybe you would stop meddling in my love life. I guess it was a bit of under calculation on my part.”

Mom looked up at the ceiling as if contemplating my words. "I wouldn't call it meddling. More like caring."

"Over caring."

"Fine, over caring. But that's because you almost—"

I glared at her until she stopped talking.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, I won't say the dreaded word."

Francie gave her an admonishing look. "Mom, I don't think you're helping."

Meanwhile, our phones had been going crazy, beeping, dinging, and buzzing. Add to that, my hangover was fully kicking in, making my head heavy and the light pouring in a little too much for my eyes. It made me feel like I was a vampire, staring directly into the sun. Francie asked mom what truly was going on. They began talking over me. I went to check my phone. Most of the messages were from the chat. Tiago and Dad were asking what was going on, and speculating widely.

I got out of the chat and checked other messages. Some were from my assistant. One from Caiden. I opened it, hoping to get something other than fretting over my love life.

Caiden:I heard you, and Emilia broke up. What's happening?

"Oh, fucking hell!"

Mom and Francie both stopped talking and turned to face me, shocked expressions plastered on their faces. I wasn't referring to them, but they must have interpreted it as if I was. I could have explained that it was the text I was referring to, but it wouldn't be true. All of it, including the two of them, had lit a bomb of fury inside me, threatening to blow.

"Are we bothering you, dear?" Mom using that tone meant one thing. She wanted me to say no. Well, I wasn't about to.

"Yes, actually. You too Francie."

Francie shifted her weight on one leg and scrunched her face. "Oh, come on."

"Get out! Get out all of you!"

"Okay, okay. I see you're a little too emotional today," Mom said. "I better go. I have a little breakfast meeting today and I'm running late." She kissed Francie goodbye. When she turned to do the same to me, she saw the rage on my face, got spooked, and waved. "Make sure he gets his hangover cure," she said to Francie as she was leaving.

Francie nodded.

"What are you still doing here?" I asked when I heard the door close.

"I live here, remember?"

I looked her over again. Yes, that was true, but not as of late. I could hardly see her these days and whenever I did, she would come in late, sometimes smelling of alcohol. Anyone else, I wouldn't think twice about it, but Francie wasn't the sort to party all night.

"What are you doing with your time nowadays? You never said."

She cast her gaze down, her bravado withering and suddenly finding her phone infinitely more interesting. "Out with friends. There's a lot to catch up on when you're rarely in the City."

"Uh, huh?" I was about to ask her who were these friends she was catching up on when she never cared for them before. But I never got to ask. She jolted from her phone and said, "OMG, is this why you broke up?" She lifted her phone and shoved it in my face. A gossip blogger had posted an image of Emilia with that muscle face, Chad Heron.

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