Page 6 of Things We Fake
“No worries. Mycasa es su casafor as long as you need it.”
“Appreciate it. Talk tomorrow.”
I laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow would come early. I had a company to steer, a family emergency to deal with, and probably more awkward hallway encounters ahead of me.
I just had to keep things professional. Avoid the neighbor, ignore the slippers… And put my ear plugs on to drown out the sound of sexy sirens bathing.
Chapter Three
Sue
Saturday started badly, and then it got worse.
Of course the universe would send me a man who looked like a Greek god and then have me greet him wearing cement on my face. Cam—Sebastian’s friend, my new neighbor, and my current obsession—had barely said a word before he ran out of my apartment. No amount of bubble bath could drown out the fact that I’d embarrassed myself last night in front of the hottest man I’d met in years. He was probably still laughing about the crazy blonde next door. More likely, he wasn’t thinking about me at all.
“Porca miseria!”
I dragged my ass out of bed and padded to the kitchen, my slippers slapping against the hardwood floor. Oh, Cam had gotten an eyeful of them too.
Fantastic work, Susanne! You have seduction written all over you.
Once I got the coffee brewing, I went into the living room, pulled open the drapes, and moaned. The snow had stopped falling, but not before leaving six inches of white stuff in its wake. I shuddered at the thought ofgoing out in that brutally freezing air. Since there would be no one to impress at that damn meeting, I decided to dress comfortably in jeans and a black turtleneck sweater covered by my red and black checkered shirt. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, not bothering with any cosmetics beyond moisturizer. I might not be New York chic, but I was going to be warm. Instead of my usual deadly footwear, I slipped on my mukluks—no need to risk life and limb for this ordeal. I was supposed to meet Sam at 1:30, so I figured I had plenty of time to come home and change into something more suitable for a first date.
The wind was brisk as I made my way to the subway for the fifteen minute ride to the school. Unlike the mornings of my weekday commute, the subway station was deserted. My boots echoed on the cement floor. I stopped at the kiosk for my usual donut and settled inside an almost empty car.
I made it to the school only ten minutes late—almost a miracle for a non-work day. If you were to ask my mother, she would tell you that I’d been born late and had continued that trend my entire life. It wasn’t as if I set out to be tardy; it just happened. When I die, whoever puts the tombstone on my grave should add the phrase,On my way. How I managed to get to work on time each morning was one of life’s unsolvable mysteries.
Recalling Mrs. West’s instructions, I went around to the side door, noting the dozen or so cars in the parking lot. As a private school, Everleigh didn’t draw its student population only from this area. Many of our three hundred students came in from the burbs, somedriven in by parents, nannies, or chauffeurs, others arriving, accompanied of course, by subway.
Mr. Fisk, the custodian who reminded me of Lurch from The Addams Family, stood in the doorway, letting people inside after he checked their names off his master list. At least I wasn’t the only one who was late. I stood in line behind a woman who’d taken a bath in Chanel.
“Good morning, Ms. Morelli. You here to do some work in your classroom?”
“I wish.” I smiled at Mr. Fisk, hoping to hide my frustration at being here. “I’m supposed to attend the committee meeting.”
He frowned and looked down at the list. “Your name’s not on the roll, but since you work here, I suppose it’s okay to let you in.”
“I appreciate it, Fisky. I got added to this committee yesterday. I guess she didn’t have time to update her list.”
“She should’ve taken time,” he grumbled. “You’re the second person that’s not on my list, although the first guy had a letter explaining why he’s here. He’s substituting for Mrs. Jones.”
“Oh, Carley Jones.” I nodded. “She broke her leg skiing last weekend. Her son, Luke, is in my English class. He mentioned his uncle had just moved to the city and was staying with them until his father got back from his latest business trip.”
My own brother wouldn’t toss me a life preserver if I were drowning, but then we’d never been close. After I’d given his best friend, The Truffle Prince, the boot... well, let’s just say Sunday dinners had gone downhill.I’d left Warwick a decade ago and had no plans to return anytime soon.
“Yeah, mighty nice of him,” Fisky agreed. “They’re in the library. Don’t think they’ve started yet.”
I thanked him and made my way up the ornate wooden staircase, the only original item in the hundred and fifty-year-old building, that had endured more facelifts than all of the Hollywood has-beens grouped together. On the second floor, I inhaled deeply, the aroma of fresh coffee invigorating me.
Stepping inside the room, I counted a dozen people at the table. Every fool knew that a committee of that size would never get any work done. I pasted a friendly smile on my face that quickly turned into a grimace. Sitting at the table talking to the president of the Parents’ Committee was Cam, the gorgeous man who’d decorated my apartment last night and had populated my dreams later.
Today, he’d shaved and his hair was fashionably ruffled. He wore a beige sweater and black jeans. His leather jacket adorned the chair behind him.
My libido went crazy chantingse-cond chance, se-cond chance. I had asked the Universe for a do-over, but never thought I would get it. And I’d never thought I would ruin it by being dressed like a lumberjack.
Shoot me now.
How many times could I make a fool of myself in front of this man by looking first like a freak, and now like a hick? Stupid, stupid, stupid! What did Ange always say? Dress as if you were going to meet royalty, and you can never go wrong. The only royalty I was dressed to meet was the queen’s donkey, since I lookedlike Paul Bunyan. All I needed was a blue ox for company.
