Page 94 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector

“Perfect. We keep pushing forward. Not just filling that gap, but replacing it with something better.”

Jenna speaks up. “I’ve got a lead on two media companies; local, community-focused. Smaller dollars, but better long-term.”

“That’s the kind of shift I want,” I say. “We build something sustainable. Impact first.”

We spend the next hour refining sponsor leads, drafting campaign language, reviewing the updated venue deposit. The momentum shifts from repair to revival, and for the first time since the funding drop, it feels like we’re gaining ground.

“Evelyn, are we good on the venue?”

She nods. “Yes, the Ridgecrest Ballroom is holding the date for us. Just waiting on the deposit.”

As the meeting winds down, I look around the room.

“We’re not just patching holes,” I say. “We’re laying a foundation for the future. This gala will be the strongest statement we’ve ever made, and we’re going to make damn sure it works.”

Kim nods firmly. “We’re in.”

“So in,” Jenna says, grinning.

We break, each of us moving fast. There’s calls to make, content to draft, lists to hit.

As I gather my notes, Jenna pauses beside me, voice lower. “You okay?”

I nod. “Getting there.”

Her grin is quick. “Good. Now grab coffee with me because I fully intend to interrogate you.”

I raise a brow. “About what?”

Her eyes sparkle. “Don’t play coy. You know what. Orwhorather.”

I laugh softly and nod. “Let me drop these off in the car, and I’ll meet you there.”

The coffee shop is already humming when I get there: a steady undercurrent of chatter and clinking cups. It’s warm from the afternoon sun pouring through the windows.

Jenna’s already grabbed a table near the window, two mugs in front of her. When she spots me, she grins and waves me over.

“You’re here. Good. Spill,” she says, sliding my coffee towards me.

I laugh, wrapping my hands around the warm mug she’s already ordered for me.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I say.

She leans back, studying me for a beat, eyes bright as ever. “So, what’s new with you and your fake boyfriend?”

“I…” I swallow, pulse kicking up. I glance down at my mug, fingers tightening around the ceramic.

Just say it.

I lift my gaze to meet hers. “It’s not fake anymore.”

The words land heavier than I expect. Saying it out loud makes it real in a way it hasn’t been, not even in my own head.

Jenna blinks. Then grins wide, leaning forward.

“Oh my God. I knew it. I knew it!” Jenna grins widely, squeezing my hand. “Ava, I’m so happy for you.”

Something warm unfurls in my chest, but underneath it, a new thought stirs.