Page 46 of Fun Together (Make Romance #1)

Faye

I need to get out of this apartment.

I’ve holed myself up inside, using up two weeks of my well-earned PTO hours. Instead of the usual comfort I feel at being in the safety of my own space, I feel like I need to claw my way out of my enclosure.

I’m aimlessly scrolling on my phone and see a post from a local movie theater that they’re showing a screening of Death Becomes Her for a Meryl Streep Appreciation Week.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I splash some cold water on my face and slide on my scuffed-up pair of Birkenstocks. I don’t bother changing out of my sweatpants and baggy T-shirt, because there’s no way I’ll get out of this apartment if I have to wear real pants.

As I drive to the theater, I have a torturous, but hopeful thought.

Maybe tonight the fates will intervene with my current heartbreak problem.

If Eli and I are meant to be together then he’ll be at this movie tonight, too.

He’ll be walking down the street and stop at the theater to see the movie’s name written on the marquee, and he’ll think, Faye probably likes this movie.

I should go see it . Then, I’ll walk up the sidewalk and see him standing there, waiting in line to buy his ticket.

Like the final scene of a film, he’ll turn and see me coming and we’ll both break out into a run as we sprint to meet each other.

But life isn’t a movie and when I arrive at the theater, there are a few people standing outside, but none of them are Eli.

I buy my ticket, a large Diet Coke, and a pack of Skittles before heading inside to find a seat.

It’s more crowded than I anticipated, but I’m able to grab a spot in the back row.

The movie starts, and I welcome the couple of hours of distraction it provides.

I should look on the bright side—maybe I ruined the one chance I’d ever have to be happy with someone, but at least I didn’tdrink an elixir that promises eternal youth, only to find that it will eventually make my body melt away like a wax figure in the noonday sun.

The movie ends and I fall in line with the crowd as we head out.

“Everyone gets what they deserve in the end, huh?”It’s the woman standing behind me and as I turn around, I’m shocked at who it is.

“Alexis?”

I barely recognize her in the dark theater, but she looks like she’s been through it. Smudged mascara, hair that hasn’t been brushed in a few days, and an unmistakable bad aura surrounding her.She’s probably thinking the same thing about me right now.

She gestures for me to keep walking because I had stopped in the middle of the aisle. “Do you want to get a beer?” she asks.

“Um, sure?”

We walk to a bar next door, and it’s swarming with college students since it’s a Thursday night.There is a group of girls in front of us getting their IDs checked by the bouncer. They’re bouncy and giggly, excited for what the night might bring.

We get to the front and I start to dig in my purse for my ID.

“Don’t worry about it,” the bouncer says. “You ladies go ahead in.”

Alexis looks at me and shrugs before stepping inside.

“Should we go somewhere else?” I yell over the sound of cheers for the girl currently flopping around like a ragdoll on the mechanical bull in the back corner.

“Nah, come on.”

We take a couple of seats at the bar, and she orders us the Thirsty Thursday special, a shot of fireball and a lukewarm Coors Light.

“You look as bad as I feel,” she says.

I throw the shot back. “I was thinking the same thing about you.” I never speak to her with this level of candor, but how else should you talk to the boss you’re about to get drunk with?

“What’s this mystery illness that’s been keeping you out of work for the last two weeks?” She doesn’t ask this in her usual cool tone, but I almost detect a hint of worry in her question.

“Oh, the worst kind,” I say, tapping my palm against my heart. “I think I’m lovesick.”

“Yeah, me too,” she says, clinking her beer can against mine.

“I think I might be unable to accept love.”

She nods. “I think I might be getting a divorce.”

“Alexis, I’m so sorry.”

She brushes that off and shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. I’m just really going to miss him.”

“You don’t think you and Brian could work it out?”

“Brian? No, I’m going to miss Conrad.”

She’s lost me on this one, and I think I’ve misheard her over the screaming girls. “Conrad? The massage guy?”

“I’m leaving Brian.” She sighs wistfully. “But Conrad doesn’t believe in monogamy. Which is sad, because the man had a way with his hands.”

I look down into my can of beer. “Yeah, he seemed . . . talented.”

She cackles and I jump in my seat. “Will you be back to work on Monday?”

I wasn’t expecting that change of subject, but welcome it wholeheartedly over any more talk of her failed marriage or Conrad’s magical hands. “Sorry, have things been chaotic without me? I’ll be sure to catch up on everythin?—”

She stops me with a hand over my forearm. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

I don’t know if I can take any more of this woman’s secrets. I take a sip of my drink.

“It’s all fake, you know,” she says.

“What is?”

She sits up and fixes her hair, bringing the Alexis I know back into focus. It’s almost eerie how quickly she can go from the woman I’ve been talking to tonight to the woman I’ve been borderline fearful of for the last five years.

“So why do you do it?” I ask.

“Because I thought I had to. But none of it matters. They’re all a bunch of fucking leeches.”

I don’t disagree. “Is your advice that I need to fake it, too?”

“Hell no. I’m telling you to get out while you still can.”

I laugh. “I applied to another job in the company,” I confess.

“I know you did. And I’m sorry they didn’t offer it to you.”

“You are? Why?”

“Because I’ve been selfishly hoping that you’d never stop working for me. Which is exactly why you should stop working for me.”

“That job wasn’t right for me, anyway. I knew it but had a hard time admitting it.”

She stands up. “How about this? On Monday, we’ll talk. About career stuff.” She sways and grabs the back of her stool to balance. “I’m calling an Uber.” She slaps a hundred dollar bill on the bar, and with a wave she’s gone before I even register that our conversation ended.

I sit at the bar for a few minutes, reeling over tonight’s events and revelations. Turns out Alexis is a real person who makes mistakes, too. She’s still kind of aloof and odd, but she seems eager to help me, in her own way.

Maybe the fates intervened tonight after all.