Page 21 of Make it Real
His teasing smile faded a touch. I kind of wished I hadn’t said that last part, even if I believed it. His apparent reluctance to dive into a serious relationship was one of the reasons I’d chosen him for my fake-dating partner. The rest of the reasons…I needed to not think about them. But after assuming he’d date other people, adding in a jab about him not caring felt like a sucker punch.
But what was the alternative? Joke that he’d never get over me? I wasn’t that dumb.
“Sounds about right,” he said in the end. “When do we start this acting gig?”
“Gran and her friends have a game night planned for Tuesday. Can you come by to pick me up for a date then? Just seeing us together will get the ball rolling.”
Just seeing us together would get them dreaming up wedding color schemes, but I didn’t need to freak him out.
He nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Great. I’ll text you my address.”
“It’s a fake date, then.” He held out his hand to shake on our arrangement.
I slipped my hand into his, and everything sort of paused. We were goofing on a business deal, a perfect mime of an unemotional transaction, but this handshake brought outallmy emotions. Embarrassment, excitement, a teensy weensy bit of desire—everyone turned up to play.
He leaned forward a touch, a devilish grin lighting his face. “Just don’t fall in love with me.”
“Aw.” I pulled my hand from his and patted him on the arm, his bicep stupidly firm beneath my fingers. “We don’t have to worry about that.”
We both laughed, but pretty sure he’d been dead serious.
SEVEN
callie
The date might have beenfake, but the nerves? Totally real.
I’d changed clothes twice only to give up and put on my favorite yellow blouse and a pair of jeans shorts. After, I’d tried to distract myself with a new embroidery but couldn’t focus. Then I’d opened up my e-reader but went back over the same page so many times, I had to shut the floral cover in defeat. The five set-ups my granny’s crew had arranged had never got me twisted up like this.
I wasn’t totally sure if the nerves were for having to act in front of the women making themselves at home in my dining room, or for having to act with Jed. Two halves of the same awkward coin.
His question about my comfort level with lying kept running through my head. Telling lies with my words wouldn’t be that hard—I already fibbed like crazy, politely covering for every crummy set-up Gran and the others found for me. But telling lies with my behavior? Cozying up to Jed enough to make them believe it? Nerves shot around inside me like a pinball going wild. At least tonight, they wouldn’t expect us to gettoocozy. First date, and all.
I’d just deal with future dates when we got there.
Walking into the main part of the house, I found Gran and her friends gathered around the dining table. They’d stacked a bunch of board games at one end and were discussing-slash-arguing which one to lead with. I sometimes joined them for game night but didn’t love how brutal they could be about them. Betting obscene amounts of retirement money on Yahtzee did that to people.
They’d developed a specific distinction: games played during the day stayed low-key. Competitive, but no stakes. They could try anything on a Tuesday afternoon with no consequences. On game nights, though? The house became a regular gambling parlor. Or wherever people put a ton of cash on the outcome of Phase Ten.
“My vote’s on Ticket to Ride.” Linda pulled a big stack of dollar bills from her purse and set it on the table in front of her. “Since last time we played worked out so well for me.”
“It’s a game of chance.” Carmen had her own neat stack of money at the ready. In theory, they only bet singles, but inevitably, somebody would break out a ten or a twenty when they felt really lucky. Two twenties peeked out from the bottom of her stack.
“If that were true, I would win occasionally.” Rita didn’t sound as enthusiastic but laid out her own bills anyway.
“The cards are chance, but you need strategy to win. Which I intend to do.” Gran set the game box in the center of the table, along with the shallow cut-glass dish they used to hold the antes. They made gambling over kids’ games look classy.
I honestly wasn’t sure how they planned to live together in Florida without driving each other into debt.
“Are you joining us tonight, Callie?” Linda asked.
“No way. I lost thirty dollars last time.” Playing a dice game that consisted of passing money around the table until one person had the whole pot—what kind of a game was that?
“You don’t have the cutthroat gene like your grandma,” Rita said.
“All the more reason to have you play.” Carmen got up to fill a plate with snacks they’d brought. Bowls of chips and pretzels littered the kitchen counters, and a fruit tray sat next to a plate of fudge. “Even things out a little.”
