Page 40 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

Clara Hayes. Of all people. My stomach twists as her eyes scan the room, searching, sucking everything in, until they land on me. They zone in, and she walks toward us. Perfect. Just what I needed.

Amy’s gone silent. Her shoulders are frozen in place, her face shifting from confusion to hurt, then back to that guarded expression I was just starting to break through. This isn’t good. We were making such good progress, but Clara's sudden presence will complicate things.

Clara doesn’t just walk, she saunters, swinging her hips, a smug expression on her face. The way she parades herself around, it’s in an in your face sort of way. She never did have a very nice personality, which probably contributed to her lack of friends.

Amy, on the other hand, is a quiet presence, one that demands attention in a different way because people can’t not look at her.

“We can go …” I reach toward Amy, who yanks her hand back and stuffs it under the table right as Clara walks up.

“Dylan! When I signed up to do a story on the Christmas Couples Contest for the town newspaper, I never imagined I’d run into you here.” Her smile stretches across her face, and she rests a hand on my shoulder.

If her claws dig in any harder, I’m going to need a tetanus shot.

“What brings you back to town?” She coos, not sparing a single glance toward Amy. My stomach turns.

“Actually, I came here for Amy.” I nod in Amy’s direction. “We’re working on a fundraiser together.”

Amy’s eyes widen slightly, her gaze snapping to mine.

“Oh, Amy. Good to see you again, too.” Clara’s tone changes when she speaks to Amy, as if something’s gotten caught in her throat, and she can’t quite shake it. She turns her attention immediately back to me.

“Would you mind doing an interview? It’s for the local newspaper, and I know everyone would want to hear from someone who made it big in the city.”

“I don’t think …” I’m not doing an interview with Clara while Amy sneaks off. She’s already stood up and gathered her things. Clara waves over the two men who were with her, one with a video camera and the other with a microphone.

“This is going to be wonderful, and it won’t take but five minutes. You don’t mind, do you, Amy?” Clara asks in the sweetest voice.

Amy gives a tight-lipped smile. “Of course not. I don’t think Dylan has anything else going on tonight.” Amy doesn’t wait for a response before rushing out of the dining area, leaving me behind. The men position a chair and shove a microphone in my face.

Mrs. Parker is standing nearby with a face aglow with happiness, most likely ecstatic that her inn is getting so much attention. Some of the other couples have gathered around to listen in. The only way out is for me to get through the interview and rush after Amy.

When Clara scoots a chair a little too close for comfort and leans forward while asking the questions as if we’re having some intimate conversation, it’s almost too much for me. I answer five or six questions before making an excuse that I have to go.

I push through the crowd and get outside, nearly running all the way back to the cabin. I need her to be there, to let me explain, but the emptiness of the cabin tells me I’m too late. Her snowshoes are gone, her things already cleared out for the day.

She’s out there alone, and I’m the last person she wants to see.

Clara and I were never real. She was a desperate choice, someone I knew Amy would see and believe. Someone who would convince her I’d moved on. I hated myself for it then, and I hate it even more now. If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d have found another way.

Sure, there were rumors, plenty of them, and I let them fly. It was easier for Amy to believe I’d moved on if everyone else thought so, too. Clara was just part of a story I had to create to protect Amy’s future.

I should have told Amy sooner. Now she’s going to think I’m making it up just to win back her favor. Either way, I’ve got to try. As soon as I can track her down, the truth is coming out. All I can hope for is that she hears me out.

***

My legs ache, but it’s nothing compared to the strain in my chest, like I’m dragging my heart uphill. Amy’s been avoiding me all day, dodging every chance I get to talk to her.

She can avoid me out in the library and at the fundraiser, but she can’t avoid me at the Karaoke competition. The place is packed, and when I say packed, I mean it. There’s not a free seat in the entire establishment, and I’ve never seen Mrs. Parker so happy.

The other couples are waiting, tittering and talking before their turn to sing comes up. Amy shows up when it's almost our turn. I draw in a sharp breath. She's wearing a calf-length red dresswith long sleeves. Black leggings and a white cardigan complete her outfit, hugging her figure.

Her hair falls around her shoulders in soft curls. She’s Christmas wrapped in a package. Heads turn to watch her approach, including Clara, who has a death stare on her pinched features.

“There you are, darling. I thought you might not show up.” Putting on my best grin, I try to smooth things over.

As if that’s going to go well.

“Sorry, I got held up talking with Laura.” She doesn’t meet my gaze. Instead, she hands me a slip of paper. “I thought we’d sing this one.”

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