The Fake Heartbreak (Searching for Love Book 3)

by Kelly Myers

  Now that I’ve committed, I really want to do it. I know it’s stupid to put so much hope and anticipation in such a ridiculous event, but it’s what I’m doing to distract myself from how much of a mess the rest of my life is. I’m still going to open mics and the occasional gigs, but they’ve lost their charm. They always just end with me panicking about the future.

  I only have two escapes: thinking about the wedding and songwriting. When I’m working on songs, I finally relax. But when I have to go to work or think about other things, like paying rent and future gigs, I have to think about the wedding to cheer up.

  I know this is dangerous and unhealthy. The wedding will happen, and even if it is a raging success, then what? It will be over, and I’ll still be exactly where I am.

  My friends have been good at pointing this out. When I told them, they all told me I was crazy. However, they seem to have given up fighting me on it. They resigned. They know I’m stubborn, and so they’ve accepted that this is just something I need to do, for better or for worse.

  It’s probably for the worse.

  I decide that for the coffee date with Leo, I’ll keep it classy. I pull on a green linen skirt that hits below my knees, a white lacy blouse with cute puffy sleeves, and cute blue ballet flats. I top the ensemble off with a pink headband and just a hint of pink lipgloss.

  Pleased with my reflection in the mirror, I head over Dark Matter, a good five minutes later than I should.

  Of course, Leo has already commandeered the corner table when I walk in. I sit down across from him. He already has an iced coffee on the table. He’s dressed down today in a polo shirt and khakis. I wonder if he even owns any faded T-shirts or sweatpants.

  “I see you get a little crazy with your coffee order on the weekends.” I settle into the chair and give him a teasing smile.

  Leo gives me a wry look. “There’s nothing wrong with my order.”

  “I’m off the clock, I don’t have to pretend to think it’s exciting that you get a dark roast with two splendas every morning.”

  “Ok, master barista, what are you getting?” He leans forward and cocks his head. I still find him attractive, but that shouldn’t be an issue. We already slept together. It’s out of my system.

  I turn to look at the chalk menu behind the counter. “Hmm, I love a specialty latte, so I’ll probably get Sugar and Spice Iced Latte.”

  Leo makes a disgusted face. “That sounds like it is pure sugar and syrup.”

  He stands up and takes a step.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “To order your drink.”

  Before I can stop him, he walks over to the counter and places the order. I sit in my chair and blink. He’s made it weird. Why is he insisting on paying? I’m perfectly capable of buying my own sugary latte.

  I decide not to overthink it though. He comes back clutching the iced latte, and I thank him.

  Then we sit down and look each other in the face. Time to get down to business.

  “So how are we gonna do this?” I ask. “I assume we’re sticking to the same basic background story, we just need to flesh out some more details?”

  “Yes.” Leo pulls out his phone and places it on the table. “I’ve prepared a timeline.”

  I look down and start to smirk as I see his phone is open to a word document. He’s personalized a timeline, like the kind you see in history textbooks, with little dots and events beneath them.

  “Oh my god, you dork.” I pick up the phone and examine it. “This is so over the top.”

  “Preparation is important,” Leo says. “I’ll send you a copy so you can study it.”

  I widen my eyes as I see the dot marked Memorial Day Weekend. The caption reads: “Marianne meets Wilson parents and other family over holiday weekend.”

  “I’ve met your parents?” I ask. “Why can’t you just be too embarrassed to introduce us or something?”

  “If I’m with someone for over six months, she would meet my parents,” Leo argues. “They live in Rockford, we drove up there for the weekend.”

  I give him a skeptical look. “What did we do all weekend?”

  “We went on a family hike, and then you and my mom and sister hung out at the country club pool while my dad and I played golf.”

  My face goes slacked. He could not be more of a pretentious stereotype if he tried. My lips curve into a wicked smile. “So your mom spotted my tramp stamp then?”

  Leo’s face turns bright red. “You wore a one-piece suit.”

  He looks down at the table and drums his fingers.

  “Also, you don’t have a tramp stamp,” he mutters. “You don’t have any tattoos.”

  Now it’s my turn to blush. He’s absolutely right. I always wanted to get one like all my artist friends, but I always chickened out. It just seems so daunting to commit to something for the rest of your life.

  “Anyway, my dad thought you were hilarious, and my mom and you bonded over your shared love of reality TV,” Leo says.

  “I don’t watch reality TV, I have taste.” I’m lying through my teeth, but Leo is getting on my nerves. Reality TV? Seriously? How dumb does he think I am?

  Leo just shrugs. “You don’t have to actually watch it, you’re an actress, so you just have to pretend like you watched the finale of The Bachelor with my mom.”

  The Bachelor is actually my guilty pleasure, but I could never give Leo the satisfaction of admitting that I’ve watched every episode of the past season so I just raise one disdainful eyebrow. “And did you join us for this viewing?”

  “Of course.” Leo gives me a grin. “I’m addicted, I never miss an episode.”

  He always surprises me. Even when I know to expect it, he somehow is far less predictable than I think.

  I look back at the timeline. It’s mostly normal events. Meeting some friends. Going to a work party together. A weekend trip to Nashville. I’ve never been in a committed relationship long enough to do that, but I’ve seen photos on social media. It’s the perfect relationship a guy like Leo would want.

  “Ok,” I say. “What else should I be prepared to discuss?”

  “There’s one more thing.” Leo takes his phone back and slides it into his pocket. “As I mentioned before the bridal shower, I haven’t been in a committed relationship in a long time.”

  I lean forward on my elbows and take a sip of my iced drink. Leo isn’t making eye contact with me. Whatever he’s about to say, it makes him uncomfortable. A bunch of possibilities flash through my head, ranging from secret criminal past to a love child to some sort of religious cult. There’s got to be a dealbreaker with him. Something that’s kept other women away.

  “Well, I was in one relationship back in college,” Leo says. “We were engaged.”

  I did not see that coming. I almost wish it was more dramatic. An engagement that didn’t work out is just kind of sad. Then I have another thought.

  “Wait, did you get married?” I ask.

  “No, no, no,” Leo says. “We were really young, and she backed out.”

  Now it all makes sense. Leo’s phobia of commitment and harsh exterior is to protect his broken heart.

  “Look, it was years ago,” Leo says. “But my friends might bring it up, and I want you to be prepared, and I also want you to act like we’ve discussed it and processed it, and it’s not a big deal, ok?”

  Leo doesn’t want to just prove he has a cool girlfriend. He wants to show them that he’s over whatever happened with this fiancé. I wonder if he actually is over it.

  “Why would it come up?” I ask. “If it was so long ago, why would anyone bring it up?”

  “Well, it was during college,” Leo says. “So my friend group all remembers, and they all told me it wouldn’t work out, so sometimes they tease about it, that’s all.”

  That’s all? I raise my brows. “Your friends kinda suck.”

  “No, they don’t.” Leo leans back and crosses his arms, all defensive. “It’s no big deal.”<
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  “Leo, if it happened ten years ago, it’s just petty to tease you about getting left at the altar!” I don’t know why I’m getting so riled up about this. It’s his friends, not mine, it just seems like their teasing has left Leo with some serious damage.

  “I wasn’t left at the altar, we didn’t get that far,” Leo grumbles. “And they tease because I truly know it was a blessing in disguise. I was clinging to that relationship because I was panicking about the future, but her breaking it off made me focus on my career, and that’s why I have the amazing job I have now.”

  “And why you’ve never committed to anyone else,” I say. “It all makes sense.”

  “I’m not paying you to psycho-analyze me,” Leo snaps.

  I hold up my hands. “Fair enough.”

  “Anyway, what’s your excuse?” Leo asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not in a committed relationship either,” Leo asks. “And I’m willing to guess it’s not your thing, just as much as it’s not mine.”

  I shrug. “My lifestyle isn’t settled. That’s not a good context for building relationships.”

  Leo just raises his brows. He knows there’s more.

  “And maybe I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, ok?” I say. “Call me silly or dramatic or too artistic and not practical enough, but I’ve always wanted the real thing. What they write songs and poems about. I’ve never been willing to settle for anything less than that.”

  Leo just sits in silence for a minute. I don’t break eye contact though. I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I believe in.

  “That’s not silly,” Leo says at last. “I believe in that too. I just think it’s best I find it after I establish my career.”

  I could definitely argue that it sounds like he’s just procrastinating and making excuses so he doesn’t get hurt again, but I’ve already pushed him enough when I called his friends out for their cruelty.

  “Ok, what else?” I nod at his phone. “I know you’ve got more than the timeline.”

  Leo nods, and we fall back into discussing details about our fake relationship and what we like to do on the weekends and who will be at the wedding.

  The conversation is productive, but the whole time, he never once looks at me like he did the night we had sex. There’s no flirtatious moments, and he doesn’t touch my hand or lean forward or anything like that. It’s strictly business.

  His strategy is to pretend like our moment of passion never happened. It’s a good plan. It’s my strategy too. However, I keep remembering how good it was. Everything about him – the smell of his crisp cologne, the hint of stubble on his jaw, the shape of his strong hands – reminds me how good that night is. Doesn’t he remember? Or was it not that good for him?

  By the time we negotiate payment, my heart isn’t even in it. I’m obsessing too much over how maybe he’s not even that attracted to me.

  He offers me a $1500 flat, which is more than I thought he would go. I propose a bonus equal to the cost of a dress and what I would make at Lucy’s on a weekend. He agrees. It’s a win since I have no intention of buying a new dress. I have plenty that will work.

  And that’s that. We leave the coffeeshop and part ways. Leo promises to send me an email with everything we discussed.

  Now all I have to do is get through the wedding. One thing I know: I won’t get cold feet like Leo’s ex.

  15

  The two weeks between our coffee conversation and the wedding fly by. I work at Lucy’s and pick up a few gigs and even go out dancing with Brie, although I turn in early this time. I see Leo every morning, and we exchange a few emails nailing down logistics. There’s an awkward one where he says we’ll be sharing a hotel room, but he makes sure to clarify that he will sleep on the pull-out couch. My answer is light and simple, making sure he knows I’m not going to be awkward or emotional about it. Not me. I don’t do emotions. I do casual sex. While I wait for the real thing, of course.

  Although now I’m wondering if I’m as much as a procrastinator as Leo. He says he wants to establish his career, but really he’s been burned before and doesn’t want it to happen again. I say I just haven’t felt the real thing, but really I’ve gone out of my way to keep my romantic life light and casual. I haven’t even been looking because at my core, I love the idea of love, but I hate the idea of being tied down. Of my future being decided once and for all. So I’ve been acting just as scared as Leo.

  I manage to push those angsty thoughts to the side and just focus on putting on a good performance at the wedding.

  Before I know it, I’m standing in my bedroom, a plethora of clothes spread out on my bed, and Zoe, Elena and Bea all crammed into my tiny room.

  They’ve come over to help me pack. Tomorrow morning, Leo is going to pick me up so we can drive to the lakeside inn together.

  They would be reminding me it’s not too late to back out, except for at this point, they have told me that twice a day for the past week. I know it’s not too late. I also know that I’m going to do it.

  “I know I want to wear the pink flowy dress to the wedding itself,” I say. “But I’m torn about the rehearsal.”

  Elena is sitting cross-legged at the foot of my bed. “What are the options?”

  Beatrice is perched on my desk with her chin in her hands, and Zoe is pacing back and forth. I ignore her manic energy and focus on Elena’s sweet eyes. She doesn’t understand why I’m doing this. She thinks it’s a bad idea. But she’s still being kind. I need that right now.

  “Ok, I have the curve-hugging off-the-shoulder navy dress if I want to go sexy.” I hold up the dress. “Or I can do the lilac number with the lacy sleeves if I want to go pretty and classic.”

  “Oh, I like the lilac one,” Elena says with a soft smile.

  “Why don’t you just ask Leo which he prefers,” Zoe snaps. “He’s your boss after all.”

  I roll my eyes. “Leo would have no clue, he has given me full decision-making power when it comes to wardrobe. He knows I knocked it out of the park for the shower.”

  “Right, the shower,” Zoe mutters. “The award-winning performance.”

  I laugh and continue packing.

  “We just don’t get it, Marianne,” Elena says. “This is so strange, that’s all.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “But you guys seriously don’t need to worry. It’s a bit of fun, that’s all.”

  Zoe stops pacing and squares up to face me. “I will pay you twice what he is paying you. I will write the check right now.”

  “Oh my god, no,” I say. “The money is a perk, I’m not desperate for it!”

  I make it a point to not borrow money from my friends. I’m no leech.

  “Then why?” Zoe asks. “Why are you doing such a risky and weird thing? You’re not even into acting that much, not that this is real acting.”

  “You know what it reminds me of,” Bea says. “That time junior year when you didn’t get the lead in that musical, so you tried to join that nudist colony in Wisconsin.”

  I laugh out loud, and even Zoe and Elena crack smiles. It was one of my wilder exploits. And Bea is more right than she knows. I drove out to that colony because I was upset and felt like a failure and it was a distraction. Which is exactly what this weekend is.

  “I just don’t understand how you’re going to separate between real and pretend,” Elena says. “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch feelings for Leo?”

  Elena, bless her heart, is capable of catching feelings for a robot. She just has affection overflowing from her, it’s how she is. Luckily, I know the difference between sexual attraction and love. I think.

  “I’ll be fine.” I start to fold my dresses and clothes into my suitcase.

  “Well, just remember the back-up plan,” Zoe says. “If anything goes wrong, or you start to feel weird, don’t worry about going through with it. Just call us, and we’ll come pick you up.”

  “Yeah,” Bea says. “We’ll help you run away.”
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  “Guys, I’m not the bride,” I say. “This isn’t a situation that entails for fleeing a church in a white dress, ok?”

  I fold up some shorts and T-shirts and place them over the suitcase. I then toss in a bathing suit and sandals. Leo told me there might be some outdoor activities and definitely some swimming.

  Honestly, I’m mostly worried about those types of things. When it will be small groups off on a hike or going for a boat ride, there will be more focus on me. The wedding ceremony and the reception will be easy in comparison. Everyone will be focusing on the bride and groom, not me and Leo and our pseudo-relationship.

  “What if you guys take photos?” Zoe asks. “Or you need to act affectionate or kiss him?”

  “Hello, actors kiss on stage all the time,” I say. “And hey, at least we got some practice in.”

  Curiosity lights up Zoe’s face. “Was he a good kisser?”

  I roll my eyes and shove a few toiletries into the bag.

  Bea lets out a sudden giggle. “I just realized – you’re going to end up in these people’s wedding photos! For all eternity, you’ll just be lurking in the background.”

  “Oh, that’s so creepy,” Elena squeals.

  “I doubt I’ll be in that many photos,” I say.

  “Isn’t Leo a groomsman?” Zoe asks. “He’ll definitely need to pose for a few.”

  “I’ll dash to the bathroom during that,” I say. “And if I end up in some photos, so what?”

  The idea bothers me more than I care to admit. I’m still uncomfortable and how nice Melanie and Jacob were at the shower. They just accepted me as Leo’s girlfriend. They were excited to meet me.

  I’ll get to meet more of Leo’s friends and see how they are. I’m not inclined to like them based on what I’ve heard about them teasing him over his past relationship and lack thereof in recent years, but I’m almost hoping they’re as mean as I expect. Or even meaner. That way, I won’t feel bad about deceiving them.

  In a perfect world, Melanie would turn out to be a total bridezilla who yells at the waitstaff, and Jacob and the other groomsmen will haze Leo for all sorts of silly stuff. Then I’ll be able to laugh about how they’re all so stupid and falling for my act.