Faking It Page 3
Danni looked doubtful. “Okay, if you say so.”
“Look, after his reaction to me sharing with Adam, there was no way I was going to tell him about myself. Especially with my mum being ill, I didn’t want to add to the stress.” Letting out a sigh of annoyance he said, “The point is, however screwed up it all is, I don’t want to lose him now we’re on good terms again. He’s all I’ve got left now my mum’s gone.”
Danni sat motionless, staring at Josh with pity. “I wish you would have told me the truth, Josh.”
“I’m sorry. But I was ashamed to tell you my own dad had behaved like that.”
“It’s not your fault he’s a bloody bigot,” she said in a half-grunt. Tapping her temple with the tip of her finger she continued, “Just give me a minute to get my thoughts together and I’ll come up with a plan of action.”
He came to an abrupt halt and looked at her with a dazzling smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Say what?” she asked hesitantly, a frown creasing her otherwise smooth forehead.
“That you’d help me of course.”
“Oh, you know I will. Anything you need, just name it.”
He was by her side in seconds, on his knees, looking up at her with his blue pleading eyes. Oh God, is he going to propose?
“D, will you … pretend to be my fiancée at my dad’s birthday party?”
Danni jerked back as if she’d been tasered in her lady parts. “What! I … I,” she spluttered unable to get the words out.
“Come on. It’s one party. You’re witty and great with people, you’ll easily pull it off. And if you help me, I’ll help you. Like I said, my dad’s a publisher, you’re an aspiring writer. I know you want to make it on your own and I admire that, but he could really help.”
“Josh, I don’t know. And why your fiancée? Why not just your girlfriend?” Could she really go through with such a charade, pretend to be Josh’s fiancée? She hated deception and was a terrible liar. Surely his dad would be able to see it in her eyes.
Josh’s shoulders sagged, “Every time I talk to him he asks me about my love life – when I’m getting married and having kids. Last time I spoke to him I just caved in and it slipped out. Now I don’t know how to backtrack.”
“Just tell him you split up or something. Tell him she ran off to a convent. Tell him anything, Josh. You don’t have to put yourself through this.”
He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “But he was so happy, Danni. I haven’t seen him so happy since my mum died.”
“How long are you going to lie to him? The truth will come out eventually and won’t that be much worse?” she said sighing loudly.
“Look, I know this all seems crazy but I know what I’m doing. Yes, eventually I’ll say we split up or something but for now this is how I want it.”
Danni frowned. “Okay, but how will this crazy masquerade help me? For starters, your dad specialises in non-fiction, all those self-help books you love. I can’t say I have too many words of wisdom to share with the world at this stage in my life.”
He grabbed her hand and looked doubtful for a second. “Oh come on, Danni, I’m sure you could think of something. You’re a brilliant author, what have you got to lose? At least you would get to write. Maybe not the kind of book you’d like at first, but it’s a start. Impress him with a book he wants and who knows what it could lead to?”
It was a good offer all right. And he was talking sense. Perhaps she should try something new, but a self-help book? What on earth did she know about it? She would feel like a fraud. Still unsure, she sighed. “Josh, this is a lot to take in. I appreciate the offer and everything but …”
He pushed himself to his feet, walked over to the window and leaned his back against it. “I get what you’re saying, but just give it some thought.” He smiled sweetly at her. “And I promise not to sulk if you decide not to do it.”
Danni remained silent, pondering the situation further. She couldn’t believe that in the year 2014, when gay marriage was legal and Ellen was every granny’s favourite lesbian, Josh was still hiding his sexuality. She was torn. On one hand, she hated the thought of lying, more importantly she resented having to lie, but on the other, wanted to help her friend. Hmmm, it was all swirling around in her hung-over swamp of a brain.
“Oh sod it. If it means helping my best friend, of course I’ll do it.”
Josh crossed the floor and pulled her up into a bear hug that nearly crushed the life from her. “Thank you so much. I owe you big time for this. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
Laughing she drew back a little. “Okay, okay. This pretending lark is just for one night isn’t it?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he said, leaning back and making the mark of a cross on his chest.
“Okay, it’s a deal. We just have to draw up some house rules about what ‘touching’ is deemed acceptable. I don’t want you getting all heterosexual on me after a few shandies.”
Josh feigned disgust. “This isn’t going to exactly be a heap of joy for me either, you know,” he said pulling his shoulders back proudly. “We have five days to work out the finer details. In the meantime darling fiancée, you have to come up with an amazingly fresh angle that will blow the self-help sector away!”
“No pressure then, hubby dearest,” she mumbled miserably. “Self-help books and heterosexuality all in one night. Now that’s what I call faking it!”
Chapter Four
The atmosphere in the office at Reynolds Publishing was quietly industrious as Brooke sat at her desk pretending to be engrossed in her work. She had been working as an editor at the company for four years and had loved every minute of it. Even on days like today when she was finding it hard to focus on her work. Despite it being Monday, she was anything but refreshed from the weekend.
The large open plan room was stark white with windows overlooking the City of London. Her colleagues, mostly in their late thirties, with the exception of one or two, sat at their computers sombrely working away with little interaction with each other. Brooke minimized her Word document and clicked on the browser. She logged into Facebook and scanned her newsfeed. The usual “my cat looks like Hitler” and “lose two stone in a week” posts abounded. Nothing much piqued her interest.
“Hey, did you see the email from the Roy about tomorrow?” her fellow editor Ethan asked, grinning from the desk directly opposite hers. He brought his hands to rest behind his head, reclined back in his seat and began whistling.
Knowing she wasn’t going to get a minute’s peace if she didn’t engage with her metro-sexual twenty-something colleague, she relented and looked up at him in his tailored black suit. “Tomorrow?”
Ethan was beaming. “We’re going to his birthday party, remember?”
Brooke groaned. “Oh no. I completely forgot!”
He tugged on his multi-coloured tie. “How could you forget the boss’ party? I can’t wait; I’ll finally get to meet his niece Helen. Roy showed me a picture of her today. She’s soooo hot.”
Rising, she walked around to his desk and perched on the edge.
“That’s nice for you, Mr Lusty-Pants but I was looking forward to a quiet night in.”
He flashed her a quick smile. “Again? When was the last time you went out?”
She twisted her lips to the side. “Hmm, it has been a while.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “And you really want another night in?”
Brooke brushed her long hair away from her face. “Okay, Ethan. No need to rub it in. I’ll be there.”
He raised his thick dark eyebrows. “Anyway, at least you can go shopping to buy yourself a nice new outfit.”
She blew out a breath. “Yeah because buying clothes is every woman’s favourite pastime.”
“Shopping’s in your blood – I know how you ladies get when the opportunity arises. Women were born to shop.”
“Where on earth did you hear such rubbish?”
Ethan
pointed to his computer screen. “Right here. This enlightened author claims to know the secret to making a woman happy.”
Brooke snorted. “Really? And what’s that then? I could really do with some tips myself.”
“I’m hardly going to reveal the poor man’s secrets. If you want to find out you’ll have to buy the book.”
“You’re not serious are you?”
Ethan’s cheeks flushed. “Of course I am. This is the one book any red-blooded male will ever need in this life.”
Brooke let out a long groan and shook her head slightly. “No wonder publishing is going into the ground.”
“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Brooke. People are looking for a bit of light relief, a bit of fun to brighten up their dull miserable lives. The days of needing a dictionary to get through a book are long gone.”
Brooke tilted her head and stared down at him. “The way things are going Mr Progressive, soon no-one will even know what a dictionary is.”
Ethan frowned, his eyes following the new buxom blonde receptionist as she passed by. “Always the pessimist, that’s your problem.” He turned his attention back to Brooke when the receptionist disappeared from sight. “Anyway, back to tomorrow, I think we’ll have a great night. You, me, vodka, the boss’ niece. Perfect!”
Brooke let the idea wash over her for a minute. Megan would be out of town which meant another night in front of the TV watching re-runs on Netflix. Besides, Ethan was right, she always had great fun when they went out. Having worked together for three years, Ethan and her boss, Roy, were the only true friends she had at work. The others were merely colleagues; people to share everyday pleasantries with but nothing of a personal nature.
“Anyway I’d better get back to work.” She stood and made her way to her desk. Dropping down into her seat, she scrolled to the new stories on her newsfeed and was surprised when a post from Megan appeared at the top. Flying high. She clicked to view Megan’s timeline and saw she had posted two minutes previously from Edinburgh. Edinburgh? She was supposed to be on her way to Australia. Confused, Brooke clicked on the chat button and wrote a quick message.
Almost immediately Brooke’s mobile phone rang with a familiar ringtone – she knew exactly who it was.
“Are you playing detective this morning?” Megan asked, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
“No. I just wondered why you were there.”
Megan blew out a breath. “I have a stopover in Edinburgh before flying to Singapore.” For a moment there was just silence on the other end of the line. “I told you that this morning.” Megan’s voice had the faintest American accent. She had been born in the US but her parents had brought her to the UK when she was fourteen years old.
“I’m sure you didn’t Megan, I think I would have remembered.”
“Brooke, I’m telling you I did. You must have still been asleep,” she said in an impatient tone. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work. I take off in thirty minutes.”
Brooke looked over at Ethan who was listening intently to her conversation. She swivelled around in her chair so her back was towards him, then lowered her voice. “Okay, I’m sorry. You know I’m a heavy sleeper. Have a safe trip. I love you.”
The connection went dead. Brooke sat motionless, staring blankly ahead, the phone still clasped tightly in her hand. Were things ever going to be straightforward between them? Last night they had been so close in the afterglow of their love-making yet today they seemed as distant as two continents. Suddenly, fatigue crept up on her. If she laid off nagging Megan about the amount of travelling she did maybe things would stabilise between them. Did it really matter if they only saw each other a few times a month? Lots of people coped with long distance relationships. After all, it wasn’t as if Megan was cheating on her – now that was something that didn’t even bear thinking about.
Chapter Five
Danni stared at the screensaver on her laptop. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Inspiration had deserted her. Where were those creative juices she thought she’d be drowning in? The only thoughts currently occupying her grey matter involved a McDonald’s breakfast wrap and double shot latte. Two of her favourite guilty pleasures.
She sat on the sofa a little longer, the screen seeming to ridicule her lack of progress. Why oh why had she agreed to his insane idea? Oh yeah, because she was an idiot! Maybe the publishers were right – she just wasn’t cut out to be a writer. She’d be better off saving herself any further embarrassment and just throw in the towel while she was still young enough to train for a more lucrative career. Accountant? Banker? Basket weaver? All she had ever wanted to do was write – that’s why she had spent three years at Kings College on a creative writing course. It was her passion, her calling. But then again, we all know what happens to young women with “callings”. Just ask poor Joan of Arc.
The sound of her gurgling stomach brought her back to the moment. She was going to have to feed the ravenous beast within before she made any final decisions. Closing the lid of her laptop, she grabbed her coat and hurried towards the door.
The burger restaurant was busier than usual. Young mums and their children were loitering near the play area filled with multi-coloured rubber balls. Danni ordered her wrap and instead of taking it home to devour it, she decided to eat in for a change. You only live once, she joked to herself. Push the boat out! She wasn’t in any rush anyway – the only thing awaiting her back home was a blank screen. She spotted a quiet area and was just within reach when she felt a hand touch her leg. She jumped in the air, quickly looking to the owner of the arm. Her neighbour Mick. Shit. This was all she needed. His eyes were glazed as he looked up at her, still munching on his bacon and egg McMuffin. He nodded to the empty seat opposite him. Reluctantly she sank into the chair and they both ate in silence.
Danni glanced in the direction of the entrance as the glass door flung open. In stormed a short stocky man with a face like a slapped arse – an expression Josh was fond of. This man looked mean, the type you wouldn’t want to meet down a dark ally. Or a light one at that. He passed by her like a whirlwind and headed to the counter. Seconds later, a petite woman with short spiky dark hair stood on tiptoes in the threshold of the doorway, frantically glancing from left to right, until her eyes finally settled on Mr Angry. The woman marched towards him and a hushed argument ensued. Minutes later they were both seated behind Danni. She was glad for the distraction seeing as Mick didn’t look like he was going to speak anytime soon.
“You expect too much of me!” the man growled.
“Too much?” the woman fired back. “What have I ever asked of you other than to be a decent, caring partner?”
“Huh!” his voice rose in anger. “If only it was that bloody simple. You don’t want me to be just any partner – you want me to be exactly what you want. Someone I’m not.” The exasperation in his voice was clear.
“I just want us to be happy,” the woman exclaimed, sounding tearful.
“Then stop bloody trying to change me – just let me be who I am!”
Danni heard the jarring scrape of the chair being pushed back on the tiled floor, before seeing the man rush past her table and make a quick exit, the woman close on his heels.
Slurping her lukewarm latte, Danni felt a touch of sadness for the pair – she fervently believed there were two sides to every argument but the man did seem to have the winning point.
Mick leaned forward. “That’s why I’m single,” he whispered.
“Really. Why’s that then?” Danni whispered back.
“Too many expectations.”
Danni pulled her face. “Aye?”
“Dem two, don’t you see it?”
No, she couldn’t. All she could see was Mick looking like he was on the brink of falling asleep in his McMuffin. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me Mick.”
“Expectations ruin everything. Too many people trying to be what their partner wants and they’re surprised when it all goes wrong, I dunno …” he said shaking his he
ad slowly.
Danni sat back in shock. That was the longest sentence Mick had ever said to her. Not only was his word count impressive, he actually made sense. He was right. That was love in a nutshell – expectations, too many expectations. No wonder relationships were so hard. As Danni mulled over the idea further, the more profound it seemed to become. Was this her eureka moment? Had inspiration struck in the Golden Arches? She picked up both of their empty wrappers, walked to the bin and cheerfully tossed them in. Hmm, unrealistic expectations of relationships. I think Mick could be onto something.
***
The idea of a book about expectations was proving more fruitful than she could ever have imagined. The internet provided endless links and websites. The forums were the most interesting. There, people discussed their real life experiences and others offered their points of view. The general frustration of unlocking the door to love was everywhere. This might just be the theme she was looking for.
Danni glanced up at the door which creaked open like a haunted house in a Scooby Doo episode. It was Josh. What was he doing home so early? How had he showered and changed clothes without her even realising it? She looked at the screen and gasped – it was after six – she had been so captivated in her research that she’d lost track of time. Now that had to be a good sign, right?
“You look very industrious.” Josh smiled, rubbing a towel over his wet hair and dropping heavily onto the sofa.
“I am, and I’ve been at it all day. Josh, I had an epiphany in McDonalds.”
“An epiphany? Is that part of their new menu?” he said grinning.
“Seriously, Josh, I think I have my idea for the book. And I have Mick to thank for it.”
Josh’s forehead creased. “Mick?”
Danni nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I bumped into him this morning and we – oh it doesn’t matter how it happened it just did. I think I’m actually excited about it too. Let me get you a beer and something to eat my dear husband to be. Bangers and mash?” She winked, laughing as she planted her lips on the top of his head before flitting to the kitchen.