They Called My Fake Date Boring, So I Kept Him novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Approved Answers

Gavin sends a warmer, initialed apology while Cora coaches Miles through publicity answers that get less plausible each time. He makes her say what she actually wants, and they agree one event and no private answers.

Wesley shut the green-room door and told us to become rivals before the sandwiches ran out.

"A gentle disagreement," he said, handing me a card. "Then a surprise connection."

Miles read the card over my shoulder.

"Which disagreement?" he asked.

"You think Cora's too spontaneous," Wesley said.

"She moved an apology four feet with a strip of tape," Miles said. "That looked planned."

"Then she thinks you're too reserved," Wesley said.

"I asked her to dinner in front of three cameras," Miles said.

"Then you're too forward," Wesley said.

"Those can't both be true," Miles said.

Wesley's phone buzzed, and he read it with his glasses pushed up.

"The fan club wants to reprint the signs," he said. "To include Miles."

"Include him how?" I asked.

"WE FORGIVE YOU CORA AND MILES," Wesley said.

"For what?" Miles asked.

"They don't specify," Wesley said.

"I'd like it specified," Miles said.

"No new signs," I told Wesley. "Tell them to cross out forgive."

"And write what?" Wesley asked.

"Whatever they can stand behind," I said.

Wesley went to find the fan club, or possibly a wall.

A runner knocked and handed me a laminated envelope marked FROM GAVIN, REVISED.

The new card was warmer.

His name now appeared six times, and mine still appeared once.

At the bottom, in green ink, he had initialed it: G.T., approved.

"He's improved the ratio," Miles said.

I slid it under the sandwich tray, where it caught the drips.

Miles took one cheese cracker and passed me the rest of the packet.

"That's trusting," I said.

"I've seen you eat," he said. "You'll leave me some."

I flipped Wesley's card over and uncapped a pen.

"We're going to rehearse," I said. "Question one. Are you two dating?"

I wrote: We're colleagues who admire each other's work.

"That's true of the lighting crew," Miles said.

"It's safe."

"Are the lighting crew dating?"

"Not publicly," I said. "Question two. What would you say to Gavin?"

I wrote: I wish Gavin everything he deserves.

I read it twice.

"That one is accidentally honest," I said. "Keep it."

"Question three. Is it romantic?"

I wrote: We're keeping things light.

"Are we?" Miles asked.

I crossed it out and wrote: No comment.

"What does no comment mean here?" Miles asked.

"It means it's none of their business."

"Is it?"

I looked at my three answers, and none of them could survive a second question.

"What do you want me to say?" Miles asked.

"Something survivable."

"Survivable how?"

"I want one evening where nobody makes me explain Gavin," I said.

"Good." He took the pen. "What else?"

"Food that needs a plate. Nobody holding a card. A chair I can leave."

He wrote the three things under my crossed-out answers.

"What do you want from me?" he asked.

"Stand next to me and don't help."

"Can I hold something?"

"A glass," I said.

"That's a better card," he said, and he sounded pleased about it.

"Tomorrow is a publicity date," I said.

"It's a date at a publicity event," he replied.

"That's what I mean."

"I don't think it is."

I decided not to ask what he thought it was.

"One event," I said. "And no answering private questions in public."

"What counts as private?"

"Whether we're attracted to each other."

He looked at me long enough that I regretted specifying it.

"That does seem like the obvious question," he said.

"Which is why we'll prepare."

Sadie came through the door holding her glasses in one hand.

One arm had bent, and she was trying to straighten it without snapping the hinge.

"Is anyone here playing a villain professionally?" she asked. "I need a threatening stare for these."

Miles took the glasses, unfolded the arm, and handed them back.

Sadie put them on and looked at the badge sticking out of his pocket.

"Adore?" she read.

"Temporary," Miles said.

She turned to me. "I watched the stream. He laminated his own apology. That's not remorse, that's a menu."

I handed her a cracker before her smile got too knowing.

She took a folded program from her bag and checked the small print.

Her writing credit sat below a large advertisement for the bar.

"They found room for my surname," she said.

"I can write the rest in," I said, offering my pen.

She smiled and folded the program away. "Come and hear it. That's the useful part."

"Friday at eight," I said. "It's in my phone."

"Come because you want to," Sadie said.

"I do," I said.

She went to find Wesley.

"She's very funny," Miles said.

"She is," I agreed.

I owed her more than I'd been giving her lately, and tomorrow was easier to plan.

I gave Miles the card with the three real things written on it.

He put it in his pocket beside the misspelled badge.

"Which answer do you prefer?" he asked.

"The true one," I said.

He looked at me, and I knew I had made preparation harder.

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