Page 57 of Cinderella Is Faking It

Half an hour later, we had shaken many hands, asked about many summer vacations, and Del had accepted many business cards. Even if she had no noteworthy experience with these social gatherings, her easy smile and genuine interest in people’s children and dogs charmed the pants off anyone we met.

“How are you doing?” I asked after TV host Marc Trenton said his goodbyes and left us on the far end of the rooftop terrace, his soap now in Del’s bag.

“Amazing. Look at this.” She held the bag open. “That’s got to be at least another ten.”

“No, Blondie, how areyoudoing?”

She blinked at me, a pink blush creeping up her cheeks. “Are you asking whether or not I’ve- because I haven’t, but I don’t think we should be discussing this here,” she whispered.

“Del.” I loosened the bag from her grasp and placed it aside. The skin of her right hand was creamy white, without any fingernail marks etched into it.

“What?”

“How. Are. You. I’m trying to make conversation. What’s been going on in your life since Friday? Did you go out? How did you spend your Saturday?”

“Oh.”

“Am I doing this wrong?”

“No, I just didn’t expect that.” She shrugged. “Uh, well… Defne’s been staying with me this weekend because her roommate’s a dick. We’ve just been hanging out, watching movies, reading books, coming up with mermaid personas while swimming in the pool. Normal stuff.”

“I have so many questions.”

“Do you want me to tell you about my mermaid?” Her eyes glinted with excitement.

“First, I need you to tell me why you read books when your friend is visiting.”

“Because we both like reading. What kind of question is that? You read a lot. You should know.”

“I read when I’m alone.”

“That’s only half as much fun. She reads really smutty books about bikers and the mafia and whatnot, and I read my historical romances full of ball gowns and elaborate engagements, and then we read each other the best passages. Which, in Defne’s case, will be likeJax and Teague ripped my clothes off and we had a really hot threesome, and I came five times, and in my case it’s a full-page description of the flowers blooming on Prince Edward Island in spring, including their distinctive scents and what they mean in the language of flowers. We get the best of both worlds without actually reading a whole book in a different genre.”

“Maybe you should study some ofthosebooks.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Can I tell you about my mermaid yet?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so, basically, I came up with these two underwater kingdoms that have been at odds for centuries and Defne’s mermaid is the princess of one kingdom, and my mermaid is the princess of the other, and they befriend each other despite their differences. My mermaid is called Sirena. That will be important later.” She delved deep into the backstory of her mermaid, the history of their kingdoms, the conflict between Sirena and her parents, the romance between Sirena and a soldier from the enemy kingdom. At some point, I managed to snatch two glasses from a server’s tray, and Del paused in her elaborate story just long enough for a ‘Thank you!’ and a sip before detailing how the magical abilities of the princesses complemented each other in the good and the bad. “...so we come full-circle, back to the cave where they met.”

“You should write that down,” I said.

“What?”

“The book.”

“It’s not a book. It’s just… make believe. Did you never play mermaid in the pool? Or, I don’t know, Aquaman?” She poked a finger into my biceps.

I ignored her attempt to turn the conversation on me and plucked her hand from my arm, keeping hold of it. Her fingers folded around mine, barely able to close around two of them. “It sounds like you came up with a whole book about your mermaid,” I said.

“Shit,” she hissed, and I realized why she’d taken my hand. My watch. “We’re late. We were supposed to meet Defne and Isaac ten minutes ago.”

“It’s fine. I texted Isaac.”

“You did? When?” She dropped my hand like hot coal.

“Around the time Sirena found the melody stone in Cerulean’s hideout.” She stilled, even her breathing shallowing out. “What? Did I say her name wrong?”

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