Page 4 of My Fake Lover

»I had help. A tiny bit.«

»From whom?« She narrowed her blue eyes into slits. Damn. We had known each other for far too long, and I simply couldn’t fool her.

»Some guy from one of the office buildings on 5th.«

»Some guy?«

»Okay, it was Maxwell Holmes.« This time, she widened her eyes to the size of tennis balls. Once, she had visited me at lunchtime, and Max had appeared with his macho demeanor and radiance of arrogance and hotness. Low had observed the game between him and me and then asked when we would finally end up in bed. I had brushed it off, because honestly, I didn’t think anything would ever happen between us besides a few heated glances. We lived in two completely different worlds, and not only did he find me terrible, but I found his icy demeanor just as awful.

»He knows about trucks?«

»Apparently.«

»And from the way you’re looking, he knows about some other things, too! What happened? Tell me everything!«

»It just happened,« I whispered, unable to hold back my grin.

»What happened?« she replied in the same quiet tone, as if we were being eavesdropped on.

»We kissed and then somehow made out a bit.«

»Made out?« She squealed. »I can’t believe it! While I’m bloody training my heels to the worst song from Chicago, you’re making out with the hottest guy in the whole country?«

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged, as if I couldn’t believe it either. »I know.« I let out a disappointed sigh. »And then we were interrupted, and he got cold feet and fled.«

»He could probably buy you a new Betsy or a whole fleet!«

»I can’t ask him for money, are you crazy?«

»Why not, apparently he’s into you.«

»Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he should become my sugar daddy.«

»He’s not that old!« She grabbed her phone and googled his name. I tried not to be too curious, which worked about as well as repairing my truck. »Wow, he’s a winner of the ›Forbes 30 under 30‹ and, according to his Wikipedia entry, twenty-nine. Oh, he has a birthday coming up.«

»He has a Wikipedia entry?« I took the phone from her hand and scrolled through newspaper articles, pictures from events, and posts from enthusiastic fans before handing the phone back to her. He was definitely playing in a completely different league than me.

»Anyway, I’m definitely not going to ask him for money and forget about this whole thing, because now it looks like we won’t run into each other anymore. Unless he dines at the restaurant where I have to work as a dishwasher. But he probably won’t go to the kind of places where I can get a job.«

»Sweetie, stop it! Maybe the repair of Betsy isn’t that expensive, and your savings will be enough.« Great. Everything I had accumulated in the last two years since I had Betsy would be gone? That couldn’t be true.

»Yes, maybe,« I replied, and fortunately, at the same moment, the alarm rang, and I had to take the filet out of the oven.

»Do you remember Pete?« I took one last sip and stood up to at least save the filet.

»You mean the I-have-Broadway-in-my-blood-Bitch-Pete?«

»Exactly.« Low laughed. »I love that guy! Anyway, he told me during training the other day that he now has a job as a waiter in that ridiculously expensive place in Hell’s Kitchen. Of course, only until he finally has his big break.«

»Of course.«

»Maybe they need someone in the kitchen?«

»Thanks, it would at least be a way out until I figure out what to do with Betsy.«

»Or you’ve wrapped the hot billionaire slash your new sugar daddy around your finger.«

»I’m sure he’s the only man who doesn’t let anyone wrap him around their finger.« Carefully, I opened the small aluminum foil package, and delicious steam rose from it. The scent of rosemary filled the kitchen. »You probably can’t even have a proper conversation with him. His only reactions are arrogant looks and growling. What does that tell us?«

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