Page 59 of Cinderella Is Faking It

“Shit. I’m coming.” Del ripped out of the hug, grabbed the bag with the soap bottles and sprinted towards the exit.

I followed them wordlessly. The names Cordelia Montgomery and August Beckett were more than enough to get Defne off the hook with just a warning from the event planners, but I had a feeling we’d just gotten ourselves blacklisted from any future Kristin Carter endeavors.

TWENTY-FOUR

My new schedulewas too easy to get used to. I spent the days at Beck’s and the nights going to dinners and events with people who pretended they’d been close to Cordelia for years - and didn’t blink an eye when I didn’t reciprocate their familiarity. I shot a few texts here and there to Cordelia. I had to confirm a few details when people asked about her father or the business, but I usually managed to avoid hard conversations with a smile and a swift change in topic, usually a compliment. Thankfully, I’d become very good at complimenting people over the years. When I didn’t know what else to talk about, I just praised their clothes, their car, or – heck – even their curtains. Sometimes Beck was there, sometimes he wasn’t, but he rarely left my side when he was, easily falling into any conversation.

Monday morning of my fourth official week as Cordelia Montgomery, I showed up at Beck’s with my backpack again, and he let me hole up in the library while he took Zoom meetings at the dinner table. I reassured him that he could just work in the library, but he mumbled something about legal and data privacy or whatnot. I nodded like I understood. Not that I could actually do anything with what I heard in his meetings about mergers, expansions and KPIs even if I had understood. But no matter what he worked on, or where he worked from, the corner across from his desk had becomemyspot. The blankets and pillows still arranged exactly like I’d left them. - No idea how he slept.

When I tiptoed past him during a meeting to grab a drink from his fridge, I swore I could feel his eyes burn the back of my neck. He hadn’t brought up thethingfrom the other Friday. The thing where he had tied me up against the fridge and gagged me with ice cubes. But when I tossed the fridge shut and looked over, Beck was nodding at his screen.

He had no meetings on Tuesday, which meant I got him to myself. Nope. I scratched that thought the second it popped up. It just meant that I got to- with him there- and his forehead crinkle- just- Tuesday was good.

By Wednesday, my eyes had grown a little weary of reading about sperm, squirting and sex swings. So, for my breaks, I brought more recreational reading material, and whenever I got to a great passage, I read it for Beck, so he could comprehend the joy of reading vicariously through someone else. My phone chirped, cutting me off in the middle of a swoon-worthy engagement speech. I glanced down, expecting a message from Tab or Defne who had been bugging me about getting to the part where Beck had promised to practically help with my research. But I wasn’t intent on throwing myself at him. I wasn’t quite ready for the disappointment if that wouldn’t work either.

Instead of more advice on which position we should try first, I found a message from Cordelia:

C:

Can you please stay at your own place tonight? Need the house. Thank you!

Theoretically, yes. Practically, the keys to my apartment sat on my nightstand at Cordelia’s house because I didn’t want to risk dropping two sets of keys and having to explain that.

“Everything okay?”

I could probably get a room at the Montgomery, right? I wasn’t sure if they would recognize me. Especially considering I didn’t look like the Cordelia from the opening party today, with my hair in a bun, wearing a loose T-shirt dress. But I still had the license with Cordelia’s name on it. That should work, right? Oh god, I couldn’t afford a broom closet there if they asked me to pay. “Yeah, I’m good. My evening plans just changed.”

“Does that mean I get to finally show you how the vibrator works?”

“No,” I scoffed even though I could hear Tabitha scold me for refusing, “get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Stop pinching your hand. What’s happening?”

I looked down to where my thumb dug into the back of my right hand. Huh. Hadn’t even noticed that. I shook both hands out and shot Beck a smile that hopefully looked lighter than it felt. “I could tell you, but don’t you want me to be a little mysterious to keep you on your toes?”

“No, I want to know everything about you.”

“Oh, okay.” That statement landed like a sucker punch, when the reason I couldn’t tell him what was happening, was the fact that I was lying to him backwards and forwards. He didn’t even know my name. “My- So you- Okay, well-”

He got out of his chair and crouched down in front of me. “What can I do?”

Four simple words that loosened the knot in my chest. He didn’t ask for an explanation. He just offered help. “How do I get a room at my own hotel?”

“You have your assistant call the front desk.”

“Okay. Okay.” I didn’t have an assistant. Cordelia had made up her own assistant, Page, when she’d been in touch with Beck. Cordelia probably had an actual assistant that I wasn’t aware of… I could just call Cordelia and ask her to set me up with a room, right? I should just tell her that I had to get my keys. What on earth could she need the house for? Oh god, what if she had a date over? You didn’t have to leave your house for Tinder. I couldn’t interrupt her if she was in the middle of getting hot and heavy with a Tinder date.

“Do you need a place to stay tonight?” Beck’s question ripped me from my thoughts. Of course, I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked how to get a hotel room. But admitting it out loud would just open the floor for more questions. I couldn’t lie like that. Oh god, why had I ever agreed to this whole stupid arrangement? I was not cut-out for a double life. I would make a horrible spy. “Del,” Beck lifted my chin up with the tip of his finger and forced me to look at him. His dark eyes burrowed into me, and I was sure he could see the truth right there, inscribed on my retinas. “You don’t have to tell me why. It’s a yes or no question. Do you need a place to stay tonight?”

I nodded.

“Do you want me to arrange a hotel room, or do you want to stay here?”

“I can’t stay.”

“Why not?” He furrowed his brows, seeming actually oblivious.

“You don’t have a guest room.”

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