Page 18 of Things We Fake
“What did you do?” Mom’s voice turned into a purr. “Dio mio, he is good looking.”
I sat in horror, staring at the phone as if it were an alien creature. What was going on? A bad feeling crept up my stomach, and it wasn’t just acid reflux.
“I looked him up,” Paul said. “Found his social media page, although it still has him living in Denver. Not that I didn’t trust you, Sis, but Neil’s my best friend, and I like to check the facts.”
Of course he was. I hadn’t had the heart to tell my brother or anyone else in my family about Neil’s cheating, and obviously Neil hadn’t mentioned it.
“He went to MIT,” Dad said. “Not too shabby. Looks like he’s done well. Maybe this is the one for you,bambina. What work does he do?”
Mortified, I leaned back against the couch. “He works in tech. Papa, we’ve just started dating. I didn’t expect you to vet him like a criminal. Does the terminvasion of privacymean nothing to you?”
“Nothing wrong with making sure my little girl’s safe,” Dad said. “Plenty ofstronzipretend to be decent, and the internet’s full of them.”
Paul snorted. “If he didn’t want people knowing his business, he wouldn’t be on social media.”
Crap! It was going to be a hell of a lot harder to get out of this.
I only half listened as Mom went on to give me all the news she thought I might care about. Twenty minutes later, we finally ended the call. I set the phone aside and stared at the ceiling.
How was I going to get out of this mess? And why couldn’t I just tell my mom I didn’t want to have dinner with Neil?
Because she’d ask why. Then she’d dig, prod, and poke holes in my excuses until I ran out of breath—or reasons. The woman was relentless. Just thinking about it exhausted me to the point of physical pain.
I rubbed my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. Sometimes, a small lie was easier than the truth, and far less likely to spark a full-blown emotional inquisition over antipasto. It didn’t hurt anyone. But it savedme.
Chapter Seven
Cam
I fumbled blindly to turn off my alarm, groaning as another hard lump dug into my back. Sebastian’s apartment was still unfamiliar and the deadly couch made it downright unfriendly. It was a hell of a motivator for me to start my apartment hunting asap.
I dragged myself up, rubbing a hand over my face. Sebastian was already up and busy in the kitchen. I heard the sound of dishes clinking, water running, and the scent of coffee tickled my nostrils.
“Your couch sucks,” I groaned loud enough so he would hear me.
“I know.” Sebastian walked over and handed me a cup of coffee. “But there’s only a couple of days left until I go on my business trip and you can move into the bedroom. I promise the bed is amazing.” He winked.
I couldn’t help a smile. “I bet. Are you looking forward to a month in Houston?”
He shrugged, walking back to the kitchen. I followed him, taking a sip of the coffee. It was so strong it could wake the dead. Hopefully, it would act like an analgesic for my abused back. Thank God we had a gymin the new office building. I couldn’t wait to work out the stiffness in my joints later today.
“It’s work,” Sebastian said simply. “I like a change of pace now and again. Want some scrambled eggs?”
My mouth watered as I looked at the eggs he’d arranged on the counter, along with cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers and olives. I knew from past experience that Sebastian was an amazing cook.
“Sure. How can I help?”
“Stay out of the way. And stop rearranging my stuff.”
I grinned, taking another sip of coffee. “You know I can’t help it, any more than you can stop nailing any woman in sight. It’s in the DNA, bro.”
He gave me a cocky grin, and I headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower. There was more to both of our obsessions than DNA, and I knew it. But broken hearts were a philosophical discussion I wasn’t ready for at seven a.m. on a Monday morning. Not the Monday that was waiting for me.
As I showered, I revised my mental checklist for the day. Moving Omega Software to New York had been a strategic decision, not just a change of scenery or a personal fresh start. The market was bigger here. The move meant more investors, more visibility, but also more chaos. If there was one thing I hated more than inefficient code, it was chaos.
The plan was to start lean with a new office suite in Midtown, temporary staff overlap with Denver, and a staggered deployment of client training until the dust settled. Which meant today I had back-to-back onboarding calls, a status meeting with the dev team,and a lunch pitch with a potential government client. And night before last, when Susanne had walked in on me and the guys in her Victorian robe and the damned bunny slippers, I’d also decided I was going to do a detour to Everleigh, the school where she worked.
I paused in the middle of shaving, my jaw clenched, my eyes red and puffy from too many hours spent in front of screens. What the hell was I doing? Why was I trying so hard to create a connection with this woman? My life was busier than most men could handle, and I was giving myself more busy work just to exchange three sentences with her? Why?
