Page 12 of Playing Pretend

Air.

Common sense.

“Are you okay?” His brow furrows.

“Yes…No.” I have no goddamn clue. My insides are a whirlpool. “I’m worried about getting caught in a lie.” I gently guide his arm off my waist and retreat. “You need to back off with the touching. Don’t draw so much attention. These people know I’m not…” I struggle to come up with a word to describe my limited relationship skills.

“Don’t tell me you’re succumbing to pressure already,” he taunts. I scowl, about to bare my teeth when he says, “You’re paranoid. Nobody is paying us attention.”

I disagree. It feels like we’re standing under a spotlight.

“What do you want to drink?”

“One of everything. Just line them up and let me drown.”

He grins. “Leave it with me. I’ll come find you in a minute.” He pivots to the person waiting in front of him at the bar.

I nod even though he’s no longer looking at me. I don’t know what else to do but stand here like an idiot.

We still haven’t outlined the fundamentals. I remain clueless as to what he’s said to my boss. And the list of rules I need to relay is growing. But this isn’t the time nor the place.

I inch out of the line and make my way to the pool.

Our West Hollywood office is on the left with our Newport Beach counterparts across the water on the right. I shouldn’t be thankful for the separation. I enjoy the company of a lot of them. But remaining far away from Julian, wherever the hell he might be, is necessary.

The last time we spoke wasn’t exactly a white flag of civility.

He’s still trying to figure out why we broke up, and didn’t appreciate theit’s me, not youspeech. As far as he’s concerned, we could be a perfect couple. Both in real estate and in the bedroom.

I can only agree to half of that statement because even though our career goals aligned, the thing we lacked in excessive measure was physical chemistry.

At the end at least.

We started with a spark.

I enjoyed kissing him. His touch made me warm. But like every other connection I’ve had with a man, it fizzled when we reached the bedroom. As if passing the threshold sucked every ounce of enjoyment from my veins and replaced it with awkward discomfort. I couldn’t get out of my own head long enough to get in the mood. And the pinnacle of humiliation was my inability to come. Ever. Not once in our eight months together.

“Piper.” Cassidy beckons a waving hand for me to hurry up and enter the huddle of drinking staff members. “Come see Vanessa’s new listing.”

I smile at everyone in greeting. Vanessa, who holds out her phone with pride to show the mega mansion. Max, with his excessively bright Hawaiian shirt. Phillip, with a new blonde model stuck to his hip. Annabelle, who already glares at her husband as they have a tight-lipped conversation. The two office women, Sally and Teagan. Then Pete and Sue.

“I hear you’ve got a date.” Max waggles his brows. “Where is the lucky guy?”

“At the bar.”

Phillip grins. “I can’t wait to grill him on his new development. The Bellefont Residences complex is said to be worth $500 million. Do you think I could schmooze my way into being the selling agent? I’d make bank on the commission from all those luxury condos.”

Cassidy rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot. Why would he give that prize to you when he’s sleeping with Piper?”

“We don’t mix business,” I murmur. Otherwise, I would’ve been rolling in that sort of money long ago instead of living at my brother’s house, struggling to raise enough cash to buy a place of my own. “We never have.”

“See?” Phillip taunts Cassidy. “I’d be perfect for the role.”

No, he wouldn’t. He’s the laziest realtor in our office. He only wants the check, not the work that goes with it. But thankfully, the conversation diverts back to Vanessa’s new listing and the potential sell price.

I pretend to be invested, offering tidbits of information even though my mind is elsewhere. I can’t keep my attention within the small circle of colleagues. I’m caught between glancing across the pool in search of Julian, and doing the same toward the bar, looking for Rome.

“We should be mingling with the Newport Beach team,” Pete states during a lull. “It’s rude to be separated like this.”

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