Page 8 of Fake Dating the Silver Fox

“Very much.” I flex my fingers, marveling at the difference. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She winks. “I’ll leave you to it.”

I want to tell her not to go, but a glance at the faces of the readers lined up changes my mind. I watch her go, my gaze following the swish of her skirt around her shapely calves.

This makes me think of kissing again, but somehow, I manage to get through the rest of the signing and a lecture from my publicist about not showing favorites.

It’s not until later, when I’m back at my laptop in my dimly lit office, blissfully tapping away at the keys that I realize I never got her name.

ChapterFour

Mara

I’mon my nightly walk with Rufus, Dufus, and Bob when my phone dings with a text. I shuffle the leashes to one hand and pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans.

It’s from Lark. And it’s only one word:Emergency.

My stomach drops.

I picture the worst. Lark in the hospital. Lark stuck on the highway with a flat tire. Or worse, Mrs. McIntyre is back for Finn’s quarterly nail trim.

I press call and hold my breath, waiting for her to pick up. She answers on the first ring, her voice breathless.

“Drop whatever you’re doing!”

I glance at the leashes in my hand. “Not possible.”

“You’re never gonna believe this.”

I tug on the leashes, steering Bob away from an unidentified object in the bushes. My heart is in my throat, but I can’t let Bob eat poop.

“Are you okay?” I demand.

“I’m fine,” she says. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’m just out with the Spicer’s dogs.” I yank Bob away from the mound in the dirt, which is definitely poop—that dog tries to consume everything— and start the short walk back to their house. “What’s the emergency? You scared the bejeezus out of me.”

Lark pauses for effect. I can hear her breathing, letting the suspense build. “You’re beingcatfished.”

I stop in my tracks, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“That guy from the app that you’ve been texting with every night?”

“Graham? My date for the fundraiser?”

We’d had some of the most interesting conversations I’ve ever had over text. I hadn’t known conversations like that were even possible. Graham is different than any man I’ve ever chatted with on an app. He’s funny and flirty. He makes me feel special, and I haven’t even met him yet.

Please, don’t let him be a catfish.

“I knew I recognized him. I did a reverse image search, and sure enough, his name isn’t Graham.” She sighs dramatically. “It’s Peter.”

“Are you sure?” Denial is not a river in Egypt, it’s my only hope.

Her voice softens. “I know you were really starting to like him.”

That’s the understatement of the year. I was falling for him. And I hadn’t even met him yet. “Maybe it’s a mistake.”

“Nope. I never forget a face. I knew it the moment I saw him.”

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