Page 10 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

The gym slowly became my escape from home, a place that helped turn me into a better person. It's funny how one moment can change everything. Now, I believe the community center could be that safe haven for more young people in town. Aplace where they can find themselves, grow, and become better versions of themselves. Just like I did.

A huge tree towers in the corner. Little glittering ornaments hang from the luscious green branches. Stacks of fake gifts are wrapped, prepared for the holiday pictures everyone in town looks forward to so much. The little kid in me wishes I could unwrap them just to make sure it’s really a cardboard box under the fancy colors.

A young lady in her twenties sits at the front desk, her nose buried in a book. She looks up as I walk up.

“Hi, I'm looking for the meeting room for the fundraiser?” I shake the snow from my hair, barely noticing as it sprinkles onto the dull gray carpet. The receptionist, whose badge reads “Becky,” barely glances up from her book.

“Study Room C, down the hall. Marge is already waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” I stride down the carpeted hall, my mind racing. Marge, the town's self-appointed matchmaker, used to drive Amy crazy with her not-so-subtle hints about us being “perfect for each other.”

The thought of her seeing Amy and me together now makes me chuckle. Amy's sure to be uncomfortable, cheeks flushed, and wearing that adorable irritated expression.

I wish I was coming back to town with Amy as my girlfriend or even my fiancé. Those were our dreams, after all. I shake the thought off.

If my memory serves me well, Study Room C is one of the smaller rooms. I knock on the door and step inside.

Sure enough, Marge is sitting at the table. But she's not the only thing I notice. Boxes teeter in large stacks everywhere I look. The big meeting table is buried in paper. The place looks like a tornado swept through and rearranged it all. It’s very different from the pristine workspace I’m used to.

Marge's piercing blue eyes find me as I enter. Her frizzy gray hair strains against a small plastic clip.

“Dylan, is that you?” She shuffles over, her expression a mix of wonder and disbelief. From her look, I might as well have grown a grizzly beard or lost all my teeth. It has been eight years, but I didn't think I'd changed that much.

“Dylan Carter, present for duty.” I do a mock salute. More wrinkles surround her eyes, and she’s a lot shorter than I remember. Her wiry arms clamp around me in a tight hug.

“I'm so glad that you were able to come and help with this. As soon as you reached out, I knew you'd be perfect.” She nods her head and motions to the room. “As you can see, there's plenty to do.”

“With all these filing boxes?” I was already reluctant when it came to the Snowfall Springs project, and that was before there were filing boxes involved. I’ve been away for a long time, and the place dredges up a lot of old feelings, some bad and some good.

“Oh, this is our system. See, the president of the community center project passed away, and he was a stickler for old fashioned things. He also handled the town’s finances and everything like that. They left it all to me, but I don't even know where to start organizing it. We've got a laptop, and we have all these records. That's about it.” She frowns and shakes her head, then looks up at me, her eyes huge and pleading.

“But I know you're going to do a wonderful job.”

I frown, eyeing the mountain of paperwork. Surely she doesn't expect me to tackle all this solo? I’m not sure I’d be able to finish it in time. There is only today and tomorrow before the fundraiser starts.

“Is there someone who can pitch in on the organization side? That would make it easier to put into the computer.” This is an office person’s worst nightmare. I’m pretty sure there’s data on the dinosaurs that used to live in Snowfall Springs.

“I do have someone in mind. Let me go check and see if she's ready yet. I left her warming up in the break room.” Marge rushes out of the study room. A puff of air leaves my lungs and my shoulders deflate.

That's a lot of boxes. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But it's for Snowfall Springs. A few paper cuts won't kill me, and the town's been good to me. The least I can do is return the favor.

Marge comes back a few minutes later. A certain someone is behind her, wavy brown hair thrown up in a messy bun and intelligent green eyes. My smile grows. This room full of boxes just got a whole lot more interesting.

I’m not complaining.

“What are you doing here?” Amy demands, her polite expression cracking as she stares me down.

“The two of you were such a lovely couple back in the day,” Marge says. She glances between us. “Are you back together? It would make my old heart happy. Couples don’t last like they used to.”

“Wait, you want us to work together?” Amy's mouth drops, and I can practically see the gears in her head grinding to a halt. I survey the chaos around us, doing some quick mental math. Hours of work, confined space, my irresistible charm—what could possibly go wrong?

“That sounds like a great idea,” I agree. Marge beams up at me as if I’ve already given her the perfect Christmas gift. Amy’s glare deepens.

“We should not be working together,” Amy pleads with Marge with her eyes, begging for an escape.

“Nonsense, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. Couples make great teams.”

“We’re not a couple.” Amy’s cheeks turn fiery red and my smile widens.

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