Page 93 of Cakes for the Grump

Other morning oddities include: more than mild disappointment over Luke’s absence, a repeating of key phrases in my mind from last night (There’s no way I am going to let anything happen to you… When you call me, I will come… Use me how you like…), a vivid desire to see him shirtless again, and the fact that I woke up wet and needy.

The last condition is easy to take care of, especially if my thoughts dip back to the aforementioned shirtlessness, and I take liberties by adding further sequences that technically haven’t happened.

If I am looking for a convenient excuse, I can say my period must bearound the corner. I am always excessively horny right before it starts. But there is a certain amount of self-awareness within me that doesn’t want to hide from the truth and is freaking out. Especially since all kinds of scenarios will unfold going forward now that I am Luke Abbot’s fake fiancée.

Needing advice, I emergency call my best friends. Noor is the only available, so I talk to her and end up saying more than I thought I would. Nothing about the personal details Luke shared last night. More broad strokes about how I’m still living with him because of my ongoing apartment renovations, some facts about the party last night, and how my boss and I are mutually using each other. Me for kitchen access, him for an image-makeover for the conference.

Noor and I are floating heads on a two-way video call.

“He helicopter rescued you last night?” she says. “Is this man a movie star?”

“Are we skipping over the fact that you and Kiren sent me into a dragon’s den of skeevy drugs and men?”

“No, I’m going to wait for Kiren to be free so we can apologize together.”

“How convenient. Can we go back to the topic at hand?”

Noor moves her phone around, so I see she’s actually in the bathtub shaving her legs. “There’s so much ground to cover, I don’t know where to start. Except I do. You’ve seen him naked?”

“Half-naked. There was a sweatpants moment. He was pulling some on—and—Isaw.”

“Saw what?”

“How is this relevant?”

“I’m a visual advice-giver! Hold on—” She puts her phone on the ledge of her tub. Her black hair is a lily-pad around her neck. With both palms parallel and facing each other, she widens the distance between them slowly. “Tell me when to stop.”

“You are a pervert. And I can’t remember.”

“Liar.”

“I saw like a shadow of it for a second!”

“Ballpark?”

“Substantial, okay! Are you happy?”

She grins.“Substantially.”

“Moving on—I need to figure out how I’m going to do this. How I’m going to stay professional and disentangled in the face of my new agreement with him.”

Noor reaches over and lights a cigarette in the tub. “We will circle back to how looney this whole idea of a fake fiancé is in a moment. But first, why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why stay professional? Perhaps you should ride these non-professional feelings out. You might find it leads you somewhere unexpected and real.”

“Noor, I don’t need more real in my life.”

“Liking someone is not a bad kind of real, Rita.”

Taking our call to the bathroom, I start brushing my teeth since I’ve languished in bed long enough. “This is not helping. At this rate, I’m going to tell Kiren she’s a better supporter than you.”

Noor makes a stabbing motion against her heart, which splashes water around in her tub. “Fine. To better assist you, I need more information. What’s your biggest fear with all this?”

“Like you said. That all this pretending will make me think it’s real.”

“Which you don’t want?”