Faking It Read online

  Brooke’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t think her having a disabled child is pathetic, Megan. I try to give her moral support, that’s what you do when you love someone. All she wants is for me to be happy with someone who treats me with a bit of respect.”

  Megan rolled over to face her again, stifling a yawn. “Whatever.”

  “Megan, I just think you treat this place like a hotel. I didn’t give you a key so you could come and go as you please with no consideration for me or my feelings.”

  “Do we really have to do this right now?” she asked, her hand snaking its way between Brooke’s legs. “I can think of much better things we could be doing.”

  Brooke’s temper cooled as desire overtook her senses. Megan looked up at her, hungry and lustful.

  “Let’s not fight, baby,” Megan said. With a lazy, sensuous movement she reached up and planted a lingering kiss on Brooke’s mouth before ducking beneath the covers.

  Brooke tossed her head back and arched her hips as Megan’s tongue gently teased her centre.

  Maybe the argument could wait.

  Chapter Three

  “Wakey, wakey, sleepy head!”

  The deep, melodic voice permeated Danni’s hazy brain, kick-starting it back to life with a jolt. “Who? What? Where am I?” She jerked bolt upright, glancing around her bedroom through squinted eyes before settling her gaze on the buff form of her handsome, six foot room-mate, Josh. Dressed in dark blue jeans and a tight fitted white T-shirt, he had the good looks of a young Brad Pitt, circa Thelma and Louise.

  “What time is it?” she croaked, flopping back on the pillow in sorry defeat. Her head was pounding, her mouth so dry that it was a miracle a Bedouin tribe hadn’t set up camp inside. Jeeeeesus, what on earth had she drunk?

  Josh glanced down at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock. I thought you were working tonight?”

  “Well, I thought I’d be shacked up with Angelina Jolie by now, but that didn’t happen either, now did it?” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and dragging the pillow over her head. A small groan escaped her lips as she felt the mattress depress beside her – Josh, like her hangover, wasn’t going to go away that easily.

  He wrenched the pillow from under her throbbing head and rested it on his lap. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been sacked again.”

  “If I did, would it surprise you?” she asked, peeking up at him from one half-open eye.

  “Not really, but I thought this job was a keeper?”

  “So did I - but you know what they say about counting your chickens.”

  Josh grinned. He had a wonderfully reassuring smile that made everything seem better – even though in reality, it wasn’t.

  “So what happened this time?” he asked, taking Danni’s hand in his own.

  Was it common for a man to have such amazingly soft hands, she wondered. She let out a long sigh, flipped over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “Let’s just say I was smashing.”

  “Smashing?”

  “Yeah, as in smashing plates – into lots of tiny bits!”

  “Oh. I see.” He laughed.

  “And there’s even more bad news,” Danni continued.

  “I know,” he interrupted. “I saw the letter scrunched up on the coffee table.” He leaned over and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Don’t give up, Danni. I think you’re a fantastic writer. Look at all the rejections J. K Rowling got before–”

  She rolled her eyes. “–if one more bloody person tells me about J. K sodding Rowling I’m going to scream.”

  Josh held his hands up. “Okay, okay I’m sorry.”

  “Seriously, Josh, look at what you said about that Amanda Hocking. Don’t bother getting it traditionally published, just upload your book to Amazon you said. You’ll be a millionaire you said. One year later and I’ve sold two copies; one of which was returned and the other was bought by my mum. And now, the traditional publishers don’t want me either.”

  Josh stifled a laugh. “Maybe you just didn’t promote it enough. You can’t just sit on Facebook and Twitter all day making friends and hoping they will buy it.”

  “Josh, I couldn’t even give the book away, I put it up for free for a week and had ten downloads – TEN!”

  As much as she hated to admit it, Josh did have a point – promotion just wasn’t her thing. When she first self-published her book she had spent the first week friending everyone she could on Facebook whilst posting about her book every ten minutes. Eventually, after religiously refreshing her Amazon sales report with the same frequency, she came to the sad realisation that no-one was actually going to buy it. So she had spent her days liking hilarious cat photos instead. A much better use of her time.

  Josh rose to his feet. Peering down at her he said, “Babe, I can always have a word with my dad. You know he runs a publishing company. Like I said before, I know chick-lit’s not his thing but I’d be happy to see if he knows anyone else who would consider publishing it.”

  “Thanks Josh, that’s really sweet of you, but there’s no point.”

  “So what are you going to do – mope about feeling sorry for yourself?”

  “For tonight, that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  And tomorrow and the day after and the day after that, she mused. What did she have to get up for?

  Josh cleared his throat. “Well I’m going to make you something to eat, my hangover special.”

  Danni gave a small shake of her head. “I don’t think I could manage anything if I’m honest.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Josh laughed. “I see you’ve been necking that lager that’s been in the fridge since we moved in.”

  Danni felt her stomach lurch, saliva welling up in her mouth – not a good sign. “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.” He laughed, strolling over to the door.

  “Oh my gawd. Do you think I should go to A and E? I think I might have alcohol poisoning,” she said, suddenly clutching her stomach.

  “A and E? AA more like. Nah, I think you’ll live. Eating something will set you right though.”

  Danni covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Josh, I really am in the shit this time, I don’t know how I’m going to cover the rent this month.”

  His tone was soft and reassuring, almost parental. “Don’t worry about it – something will come up. If the worst comes to the worst, I’ll cover it for you.”

  Danni leant up on her elbows, frowning. “Thanks, Josh. I think winning the lottery is my only hope – though there’s fat chance of that happening seeing as I can’t afford a bloody ticket.”

  Josh looked at her sympathetically. “Listen, I’ll make extra food in case you change your mind.” He smiled as he closed the door behind him.

  At least she had Josh. He really was a guardian angel. A guardian angel who makes a mean pasta. Is there any better kind?

  ***

  When Danni woke again an hour later, her bedroom was enshrouded in darkness. Low chatter from the TV leaked through her door. The faint scent of roasted tomatoes and oregano tickled her nose. Her stomach rumbled. The thought of food was now suddenly very appealing. Powered by her new-found hunger, she slid off the bed and shuffled cautiously towards the door. She was mindful not to trip over the discarded clothes that littered the carpet; her “floor-drobe” as she liked to call it.

  Danni’s bedroom was the biggest room in the flat – not that she needed the space. She knew sweet F. A about accessories and colours. It was still the same shade of pale blue it had been when she first moved in. The only furniture she owned was the double bed her mum had bought her and a desk she’d picked up in the bargain corner at IKEA.

  She followed the intoxicating aroma like a woman possessed, her nose pointed out in front of her, inhaling every beautiful scent. Reaching the kitchen, which was the size of a postage stamp, the smell of garlic struck her nasal passages like a midwife slapping a newborn baby. Josh had made her favourite sauce, just what the doctor ord
ered. She couldn’t help but salivate as her cardboard tongue began to tingle at the very thought of tasting that heaven-sent creation.

  Within minutes, she had reheated the spaghetti and was sitting on the sofa with Josh who was quietly reading one of his many self-help manuals.

  The low-ceilinged living room looked like a cross between a gym and a one-star hotel room. The wood chip magnolia walls didn’t appear as if they had been repainted by the landlord for a good ten years. On the far side of the room, an aging bench press sat with a rack of weights beside it and a poster of a half-naked body builder tacked to the wall. Though Danni was as easy going as the next person she had drawn a line at Josh’s plea to install floor to ceiling mirrors next to it. All in all, with its brown patterned sofa, black leather recliner (courtesy of Josh’s dad) and a faded wooden coffee table, the room was a disaster.

  She twirled the spaghetti on her fork and shovelled it into her grateful mouth. It was so good. She chewed for a few seconds before a feeling of intense queasiness crept up on her. She lurched forward to grab a glass of water from the coffee table, and gulped it down in a vain attempt to keep her food from popping back up to say hello. Realising this method wasn’t going to work, she placed the bowl and glass onto the table and sprinted to the bathroom.

  “Are you okay?” she heard Josh call from behind the door as she slumped over the toilet bowl and released the contents of her stomach. “Uh huh,” was all she could manage, as she vowed to herself that she would never drink again.

  After several minutes she groaned and pulled herself up from the floor. Grabbing her toothbrush, she fastidiously cleaned her entire mouth before turning and opening the bathroom door. Josh was still standing there.

  “I’m okay, Josh,” she whispered, passing by him and returning to her place on the sofa. Noticing the bowl of pasta still sitting there she retched and motioned to Josh. “Oh God, please take it away.”

  He smiled then grabbed the bowl. “Okay, okay. It’s gone. Do you want some Alka Seltzer?”

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep anything down.”

  When Josh returned from the kitchen he sat back next to her and resumed reading his book.

  Her nausea subsiding, she turned to him and read the cover – “Life Transformations : One Magic Month”.

  “So who’s promising to change your life in thirty days this time?”

  Josh looked up with a scowl and returned to his reading. He drank in every word of self-help books. Plus he got them all free courtesy of his publisher father.

  “Well?” she urged.

  “Don’t pretend to be interested, D, you always take the piss.”

  “I’m not. I swear. I’m interested.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I am,” she protested through a smirk.

  Josh let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe it would do you some good to actually read some of these books, instead of–”

  “–Instead of what?”

  “Instead of being so judgmental.”

  If she had been drinking at that given moment she would have spurted out the contents with the force of an Orca’s blowhole. Fortunately, her mouth was empty so she could do nothing but give an exaggerated gasp. She was judgemental? She was the least judgey person she knew – “live and let live” all the way. She just thought all of these books on spiritual enlightenment were a bit clichéd. A great big cynical money-making con.

  “Josh,” she said finally finding her voice. “I appreciate you believing in all this mumb–” She stopped mid-sentence. She wasn’t going to win an argument by insulting him. “–stuff, but I don’t buy it. All they seem to do is repeat the same old rubbish with a new spin. If these books actually worked, the self-help industry would be bankrupt not earning millions a year. Anybody could write them and the worst thing is the books bloody sell.” Unlike my own, she refrained from adding.

  Josh put the book on his lap and turned in his seat to look at her with all the innocence of a gullible child. “If that’s the case, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and write one, Ms Guru?”

  She stared at him blankly.

  He rolled his eyes at her lack of response adding, “Why don’t you write a self-help book?”

  Danni shuddered at the thought. Though she could turn her hand to any piece of writing with a good dollop of research, she didn’t like the idea of someone in a vulnerable state of mind taking her words as gospel. “Ah, I didn’t say I could write one … I … uh.”

  Josh turned back to his book. “Like I thought, all talk.”

  “Hang on a big gay second,” she said laying a hand on his forearm. “I didn’t say I couldn’t write one. I simply mean I don’t have the time to dedicate to such a … uh … life-changing work. Some of us have bills to pay.”

  Josh turned at stared at her. “So are you saying you could do it if you had the time to?”

  “Of course I could. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

  “Ok, then do it. You have the time now, prove me wrong.”

  “Oh yeah, and how am I supposed to support myself while I write my seminal masterpiece? With chocolate buttons? Correct me if I’m wrong, but last time I checked the currency in this country was pounds and pence. We don’t all have a rich daddy to fall back on.”

  Josh’s face suddenly looked troubled. “D, we need to talk.”

  He snapped his book shut and put it down on the coffee table. Josh never stopped reading halfway through a book. Her gut began performing somersaults. Was this the end – had Josh had enough of her being unreliable and broke? Oh God she knew it – she had known her days were numbered. Though who could blame him? Who wanted to carry a useless heavy load? Well, actually she was quite slim, but that was immaterial. God she would miss him. She loved this man like a brother.

  Her face was bleak with sorrow as she said, “It’s okay Josh. I know what you’re going to say. And it’s okay. I totally understand. Believe me when I say this, nothing will change between us. I’ll always be your friend.” Fighting back the tears, she put her feet on the floor and attempted to stand. Josh gripped her hand and looked at her with a confused expression.

  “What the hell are you talking about, D?”

  “I’ll go tomorrow.”

  “Go where?” he asked, a mask of uncertainty on his features.

  “Back to my mum’s. Only until I get a job. Then I’ll–”

  Josh pulled her back down onto the seat. “D, why are you talking about moving out?”

  Danni’s eyes widened. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

  “I do but it’s not about you moving out. Why on earth would you think something like that?”

  Danni shrugged her shoulders. “Dunno. You just look so serious.”

  Josh ran his hand over the top of his head, his features twisting in frustration. “This is nothing to do with you – well not directly anyway.”

  “What is it Josh? Has something bad happened?” Danni was on tenterhooks as she waited patiently for him to speak.

  He took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Yes and no.”

  Only one thing truly bugged her about Josh – he could never get straight to the point. “Well … which one is it?”

  “It’s my dad.”

  Danni’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God, Josh, I’m so sorry. Here I am talking about–”

  Josh held his hands up in the air. “He’s not dead, Danni.”

  Danni’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, sorry. I mean, good.”

  “He’s turning sixty on Saturday.”

  Danni grinned. “Oh, well that’s good isn’t it? I mean, him being alive and all at sixty.” Her words were not coming out quite as she wanted.

  Josh rubbed his chin. “Depends how you look at it.”

  “Oh, Josh, you’re driving me insane. Just tell me what the problem is.”

  “My dad doesn’t know I’m gay,” he mumbled.

  “Ooookaaaay.” This news wasn’t surpr
ising to her. Josh wasn’t exactly an “easy spot”. Yes he was well-groomed and dashingly handsome but he didn’t work in fashion, PR, or any other of those stereotypical professions that set the alarm bells ringing. He was a builder; a builder devoid of any design sense and one with zero affection for either Barbra Streisand or Judy Garland. In fact, how could he be gay?

  “My dad thinks I have a fiancée,” he said sheepishly.

  Danni’s eyes widened. “What? Why on earth would he think such a ridiculous thing?”

  “Because, that’s what I told him.”

  She clapped her hand to her mouth. “You told him. Why?”

  “I don’t want him to disown me. You know I told you we had a falling out last year.”

  Danni nodded.

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly honest about what we fell out over.”

  Danni frowned. “I’m confused. You said it was over money.”

  “It was. Well sort of. My dad was going to loan me money for a deposit on a house, until he found out who I was going to be sharing it with,” he said angrily as he shot up from the sofa and paced the floor back and forth.

  Danni watched him pace, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. “Adam? Big camp Adam?”

  His expression momentarily took on a look of disgust. “Yes. I told my dad about Adam being gay and let’s just say he was less than kind about the idea of us buying together.”

  “But you weren’t even shagging Adam, he’s just a friend.”

  “I know, D, and that’s my point. He didn’t want me sharing a house with him in case everyone thought I was gay.”

  “But you are Josh.”

  “I’m well aware of that Danni.”

  “Did he actually say that to you? That it was because he was gay. I mean, I doubt anyone would want their son sharing a place with camp Adam.”

  “Not in so many words but it was obvious that was the reason.”