Page 31 of Strictly Pretend

“I don’t believe you.”

To be fair, I don’t believe me either. “I don’t care if you believe me. Your opinion is of no importance to me. Now, is there anything else or can I end this call and get back to work?”

I look up to see Granddad walking toward the counter with a customer, who has a copy of an old Arthur Hailey novel in his hands. Granddad loves Arthur Hailey. He has a little shrine to all his books in the shop's window.

“Just try not to make a scene,” she says, sounding unsure of herself for the first time. I like it a little too much.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I tell her. “And please tell Will not to make a scene either. Brooks isn’t exactly his biggest fan. I’m worried that he’ll end up flattening him. He has five inches and thirty pounds on Will, after all.”

“He wants to assault Will?” she asks, her voice shrill.

“I don’t know. Best just to keep them apart, yeah?”

“Oh. Okay.” She sounds deflated.

“Thanks for calling,” I tell her. “Give my best wishes to your mom.” I don’t even know her mom. I’m just putting on a show for Granddad because he’s listening in as he rings up his customer’s purchase.

Then I hang up and take a deep breath.

“Everything okay?” Granddad asks as he slides the book into a paper bag with The Vintage Verse printed across it and hands the customer his receipt.

“Everything’s fine,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Absolutely and completely fine.”

Except for the fact that I’ve just dropped myself in it big time. And I think I’m dragging Brooks Salinger down with me. Although he only has himself to blame for that.

Kind of.

“Can you give me five?” I ask. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Go ahead.” Granddad waves me off and I grab my phone as I walk around the counter and head to the back of the shop where the bathrooms are.

And when I’m in the stall I pull Brooks’ name up and unblock the number before typing out a message.

Okay. The answer is yes. But we need to discuss terms. Please call me tonight. – Emma

And once we’ve had our discussion I swear I’m never going to answer the phone without knowing who’s calling again.

BROOKS

It’s almost nine o’clock by the time I get home and actually call Emma. I hadn’t been able to call sooner because I’ve been in board meetings, but her message made me smile like nothing else has in a long time.

And when my dad asked me about the Redfern Building, I was happy to say that I was in deep negotiations with the tenants.

Even if I didn’t explain they were the negotiations that would lead to me being Emma’s date at Derek and Cassie’s wedding.

Emma picks up after the second ring.

“Hello?” she whispers.

“Are you alone?” I ask, feeling slightly alarmed at how quiet she is. Whispering is such a stark contrast to howling at the moon.

Or to telling me to stuff my offers where the sun doesn’t shine.

“I am,” she whisper-replies. “But the couple in the apartment next door has put in three complaints against me for talking too loud.”

My lips twitch. “Maybe we should do this another time.”

“No!” She groans because she’s said it too loud. Her voice goes back to a whisper. “No. Let’s do it now. Get it over with. Like a frontal lobotomy.”

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