Fake It 'til You Make It, page 18
‘Looks like your plan to make him jealous is working,’ Mike says, tugging me closer to him.
I guess he’s hating on cheaters as much as I am of late. I want to tell him that I’m not simply trying to make Andrew jealous, I’m just trying to not look like a girl who thought she had everything one day then had nothing the next.
But neither of these sentiments leave my mouth because I’m still dumbfounded by my body’s reaction to his touch. By my irrational and momentary lapse in judgment, because I really did want him to be making a move.
Neither of us are in the market for that.
29
TED
Last night was… What was last night? Not how I thought it would be? Spontaneous. Unexpected. Head messing.
It started out as a learning meet up – I’ve been so busy with meetings, trying to learn all the things about Vanguard that I’ve previously left to Roman, and Abbey has been pulling long hours filming, so we haven’t had much time for Abbey to learn about Mike. Me, as Mike, learning about Abbey.
It was intended to be a homework session. Friendly. An arrangement. A favor in return for a favor.
Only at some point, it felt like I was getting to know Abbey. Me, not Mike. And I liked it. I like her. Increasingly. I just don’t know in what way.
I tried to give her as much insight into me as possible. I suppose I was testing the water at times, seeing what kind of guy she’s really into. Even though sensibility tells me the actress wants the ball player. The king to her queen.
So why am I curious? I don’t know. I kept asking myself that too – what game am I playing?
Because I know I can’t fall for her and it wouldn’t be fair to let her fall for me.
She doesn’t know who I really am. And though I wanted so many times to expose my true identity last night, I couldn’t. I can’t. I’m too deep in the lie.
We fly to Canada tomorrow.
But there’s a very real part of me that’s… confused. That needs to be reined in.
I was desperate to touch her all night. Lying next to her on our movie blanket made me feel like a teenager with his first infatuation. It was torture.
Then Andrew appeared and it was bittersweet. A reminder that she isn’t looking for a new guy and I am so far from being datable or wanting to dip my toe in that ice water again. I’m not even sure that Fleur considers me unequivocally out of a relationship right now.
But finally getting to touch Abbey, to feel the shape of her against me, to nuzzle into her neck and breathe in her heady mix of subtle perfume and outdoors, that was sweet. Too sweet.
For one thing, anything I might be feeling, even if I will admit to anything, is not reciprocated. For all I know, I might just be having some kind of existential crisis, or rebound lust or whatever.
It really doesn’t feel like it. It feels… No, I won’t let myself make more of this.
In any event, if Abbey did give any sign that she might have more than companionable feelings toward me, I need to remember that they aren’t actually for me, they’re for Mike. I’m Mike to her. That’s who she thinks I am and who she wants me to be, even if it is all fake.
It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl who is so like me in so many ways. When she isn’t in stuck-up actress mode, she’s a bit nerdy, she likes space and numbers, exercises mostly because she needs to in order to stay healthy, comfort eats, which goes back to the needing to stay healthy thing, would rather be outdoors than anywhere else, finds arrogance off-putting, hates showiness.
I may have put words into her mouth with some of those descriptors, but the point is there are times when I feel like we get each other. And that’s without mentioning the biggest thing we have in common of late, which is that we both just ended serious relationships because our other halves did the dirty on us.
I’ll add one more thing about Abbey, then I’m putting these thoughts to bed for the day, with zero innuendo intended.
I can’t help wondering what would have happened if we had met under different circumstances. If we had met first. Before Andrew. Before Fleur. Before I became Mike. Because I think possibly, maybe, we’d have been a good fit.
It’s Tuesday morning and I should be ecstatic because I am finally getting out of New York, bound for Canada with Abbey, but in my latest moment of self-doubt, I’ve turned to one person I know, without a shadow of doubt, I can truly rely on.
My brother is literally guffawing down the line. Despite the wind blowing around him, loud through his cell phone as he jogs along Ocean Beach, I can hear the depth of his amusement.
Back home, Mike lives further north than me, closer to Oracle Park, the Giants’ stadium. Though also coastal, I’m based nearer to Santa Clara. I love heading up to him on the weekends and us getting out for a beach run or trail run. The smell of the salty air, the feel of the wind whipping off the Pacific, the sound of crashing waves.
If I ignore the man laughing at me, I might be homesick for the first time since arriving in New York. Not longing for the life I had a few weeks ago but missing San Francisco, missing home. That yearning brings with it a stark reminder that at some point I need to return, give Fleur yet another but absolutely final terminal diagnosis for our relationship and fess up to my family and friends how much I’ve been played by my best friend and fiancée.
‘Let me get this straight,’ Mike says breathlessly, I hope more because of exercise than because he’s laughing so hard. ‘The hot new actress from downstairs, who you keep telling me you aren’t fooling around with, wants you to go with her to Canada for a week, to pretend that you’re me? Ah, man, I’m dying.’
‘Are you done already?’ I snap. ‘I was being serious when I said I want your advice.’
‘What do you want me to tell you, little bro? It’s awesome being me. Enjoy it while it lasts.’
‘Could you just— You know what, forget I called.’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up.’ The wind calms and I think my brother has stopped jogging, maybe put a hand around the speaker to shield our conversation from the wind. ‘Jokes aside, what I really think is that you should come home and give Roman exactly what he’s got coming to him. As for Fleur, she needs to get the hell out of your place. Never did think she was good enough for you and now she’s proved it. But if you’re adamant you’re not ready, why not stay in NY for longer?’
‘Because Rome is going to come here and I want to get things in order from a business perspective before I see him. That’s going to take at least a few more days.’
‘And you have to fly to Canada today?’ Mike asks.
I do because Abbey’s mom has booked us flights for today and if I’m going as Abbey’s boyfriend, I need to go with her. Not to mention it lowers my risk of seeing Roman before I’m ready.
Even without any of this, I want to help Abbey. I want to support her when she deals with her troubles in Canada. I owe her at least this much for all the truths I’m keeping from her. Every lie I feel increasingly guilty about.
‘Yes,’ I tell him simply.
He whistles as he exhales and I imagine him scratching his chin as he considers his next words.
‘Can’t you go as you? I mean, I know I’m way more dope and all…’ He pauses and I know he’s waiting for me to react to his teasing. If I wasn’t feeling so anxious, maybe I’d find him entertaining. Maybe not. Probably not. ‘Look, Ted, don’t let this go to your head or anything but I think you’re a pretty great guy. This Abbey chick would be lucky to have you, as you, not me.’
‘You have to say that; you’re my brother.’ Though it’s true, I still fight back a small smile because it’s rare my brother is genuinely affectionate, despite the fact I know he loves me. ‘But honestly, there’s nothing between Abbey and me, just friends. She’s been burned, I’ve been burned. She helped me out, I’m returning the favor.’
Even if I’ve felt lines blur in my mind at times, they’ve been lapses in judgment, that’s all. Neither one of us is in a position to get into a new relationship. It would be relationship suicide, in fact, to start something now.
I’m not even contemplating it.
Mostly.
Ever.
‘A favor she needs because she doesn’t want her ex to think she’s single—’
‘He already thinks she’s seeing me, or should I say, you. She thinks I’m you.’
‘And she hasn’t fessed up to her folks that her childhood sweetheart was a jerk and went behind her back, so instead of her folks trying to get the pair of them back together, she’s turning up with you, me, to put them off the scent?’
‘Broadly right.’
He blows a raspberry down the line, then whispers, ‘So fucked up. Do you like her, Ted? Tell me you haven’t fallen for her because the identity crisis aside, she’s clearly still into her ex.’
‘She is?’
‘She doesn’t want to fess up to her ex being a dick in case she gets back with him. Isn’t that plain as day?’
‘Maybe. I really don’t think she wants him back.’
Does she? I hope not.
But as I stand here in Mike’s spare bedroom, I stare at my half-packed luggage, questioning this trip for the zillionth time since I started packing my bag for tomorrow’s flight.
I doubted whether I was over Fleur and I guess I’m not over what I’ve lost and how things panned out. But I do know, after seeing her here last week, after listening to more of her lies and bended truths, that I could never get back with her.
I know I’m not in love with her.
Has Abbey had that epiphany yet? God, I hope so. She’s better than that. Him.
‘You didn’t answer whether you like her,’ Mike says, his tone demanding.
‘Not in the way you mean. She’s just… I don’t know, calm, relaxed, unassuming and funny without being obviously out for a laugh from her audience. When she’s not being the actress version of herself, she’s… the kind of person I can handle being around right now.’
I wait but there’s no reply, yet I can still hear the sound of the outdoors down the line. ‘Mike? You there?’
‘Just thinking if she’s playing a role for all her family. Ted, what makes you think the parts of her you like aren’t an act?’
I suppose he could be right but the more I’m around her, the less of the crabby, showy Abbey I see. In fact, she might even be changing my opinions on designer-clothes-wearing TV stars. It also sounds like delving into that, applying my usually analytical mind to the game of if, would be a rabbit hole I don’t want to fall down.
‘I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, little bro. But if you tell me you’ve got this and this fake relationship works for you right now too, then I guess you have my blessing to be me.’
‘That was uncommonly heartfelt,’ I tease, not wanting to focus on his warning too much. Am I risking getting hurt in all of this? Am I so numb to everything right now that I can’t see what would be bad for me?
If my head is messed up and my heart broken, all I have to go with is instinct and my instinct is telling me to go to Canada, that Abbey isn’t out to get me in all of this.
I zip my luggage shut and set it down on the ground. ‘Good talk, big bro.’
‘Catch you later, mini me.’
30
ABBEY
‘You are still coming, aren’t you?’ I ask Shernette, my cell phone tucked between my cheek and shoulder as I put the last of my toiletries into my wheel-on cabin luggage.
She’s heading into the office. I can hear chatter as she passes people on the sidewalk and her heels, or someone’s heels, clicking the ground as she moves.
‘Absolutely. I have a half day and I’m heading to the airport right after work on Friday afternoon, so I’ll be with you in time for dinner.’
‘Amazing. I’m going to need all the moral support I can get, especially since Dee now won’t be coming until Friday evening either. My morale will be battered and bruised by then.’
‘No! How come Dee won’t be there sooner?’
I zip closed my luggage and lift it down from my bed to the bedroom floor. ‘She has an afternoon shoot on Friday. They’re front loading all of the scenes where she’d be expected to have a full body shot or where she’s doing something particularly active before she starts to get a real baby bump.’
‘Makes sense but that sucks for you. Still…’ The surrounding noise falls away and I suspect Shernette has walked through the revolving doors into our— her office block. ‘You’ll have your new beau to keep you smiling and to keep your mom’s matchmaking at bay.’
‘Ha, yes. Well, assuming he’s not going to get cold feet and ditch me.’
‘Do you think he won’t show?’
‘He’s already on the run from his best friend and fiancée. I’m just some girl he met not even three weeks ago.’ I wheel my suitcases to my apartment door then take hold of the phone in my hand. ‘Oh God, this is a terrible idea, isn’t it? We hardly know anything about each other, except the crash lessons Mike has given me in the last few days. He thinks I’m actually a decent actress! Someone is going to find out the truth – maybe they know baseball, follow the Giants, know about Mike’s model girlfriend, maybe they even know Mike and—’
‘Abbey, take a breath. You and Mike might have had a crash course in getting to know each other but you do know each other and he wouldn’t have said yes to coming along with you if he didn’t like you. Not to mention the fact he wants to expend with his own reality for a few days.’
‘Yes.’ I nod, trying to reassure myself. ‘You’re right. Plus, he says he’s doing it as a favor for my help and he’s just not the kind of guy to let someone down. I know that much about him. He’s loyal. He’s kind. Funny. Sometimes even unintentionally, you know, in a sort of geeky way.’
‘Erm, do you like Mike? Not that I can’t see the obvious attraction – he’s hot – but up till now you’ve maintained you don’t like him.’
‘I don’t! And neither of us is in a place to want to be anything more than friends anyway.’
‘Riiiight, but Abs, this whole thing is based on you getting back to New York and not seeing Mike anymore.’
‘It is? It is. Because this isn’t real and Mike lives in San Francisco and dates models. He’s a freaking Major League Baseball player.’ And I need to get a real job, the boring kind that an MLB player wouldn’t crush over at all.
‘Exactly.’
We both fall silent, for my part silenced by the realization that by this time next week, Mike and I will be no longer. He’ll go back to California. Back to his exquisitely beautiful girlfriend, who seems to be having trouble accepting that their relationship is over. Or any one of a hundred different gorgeous women – the type professional athletes date.
That was always the plan.
Which is great; it makes this whole arrangement cleaner. Like a business transaction. I did work for him and his brother and, in return, he’s fulfilling this agreement for me, then we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll get a new job, find a sensible apartment that I can afford and embark on my real new life, post-Andrew and pre-the rest of my actual life.
‘Abbey?’
Shernette’s voice pulls me out of my own headspace. ‘I’m here.’
‘Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt, again.’
I draw back my shoulders and straighten my spine. ‘It’s just business, Shernette, I promise. Can’t wait to see you on Friday.’
‘You too, lady.’
We each blow a kiss down the line and hang up.
I wheel my luggage the rest of the way into the lounge, glance around the plug sockets to make sure I switched everything off, then I leave my apartment.
What if he has changed his mind?
The elevator arrives and I wrestle my stuffed over-shoulder bag and cabin case inside. I have no idea what we’ll be doing for the week, so I hope I have enough luggage to cover the eventualities. Maybe I should have brought hold luggage?
Chewing my lip, I only realize I’ve reached the ground floor when the concierge waves and calls, ‘Morning, going somewhere?’
‘Just a few days at home,’ I tell him.
Then I see him. Mike is standing outside, waiting by a black car that looks much fancier than an Uber. Next to him, on the sidewalk, is one small weekend bag and a suit carrier. His usually messed up hair has been styled, like he wore it when GQ came to interview him, and he’s wearing a blue button-down shirt tucked into smart pants, though his signature sneakers are on his feet.
He looks every inch the man for the task.
‘You came,’ I say, both happy and relieved.
‘We had a deal,’ he says simply.
His tone feels cooler than usual and it makes me wonder whether he’s having doubts. I wouldn’t blame him, though, and he’s here, so I decide to go with it.
‘Nice ride,’ I say, gesturing to the car.
‘I don’t like being late so I pre-booked.’
So he never had any intention of backing out? Wow, he has more conviction than I do about this. He must really want to leave New York.
The driver gets out of the car and takes my luggage to the trunk. Mike adds his own bag and we both get into the backseat, a full seat between us, which is good. We’ll be spending a lot of time together on this break and if he looks and smells as good as he does right now, then—
‘You look nice,’ he tells me, and as I blush, the devil on my shoulder tells me I wore this blouse and pants combo for all the wrong reasons.
‘Thanks, you too. I did wonder if you’d be in full Giant’s kit.’
He scoffs, right before the driver asks, ‘Have you got your passports? You don’t want to have to make a trip back in rush-hour traffic.’
