Fake It Till You Make It

by Anne Harper

  Brady snorted. “My money’s on she’s been waiting in the shadows like some kind of vampire, ready to strike.”

  “Yeah. A vampire who feeds on gossip and self-tanner.”

  The brief moment of desire that had zipped through Sloane transformed into a familiar stress as they got out of the truck. Much like the lunch at the garden, Sloane hadn’t been 100 percent on what to wear. Sure, boating on the bay nearly always meant swimming in it, but she’d had a moment of crisis trying to find something to wear over her swimsuit. She’d been forced to throw on a sheer black pullover that in some light looked like a dress you wore to a funeral and in others something one might wear with lingerie.

  It was versatile like that.

  Which was not a point in its favor as she took in Carol’s white knit crop top and teal shorts. Or Felicity’s yellow sundress that could be seen like a beacon from her spot already sitting on the boat at the dock. Even Ruby and Marcus had on colorful outfits. Brady, too.

  Then there was Sloane.

  Out there looking like an Italian Morticia Addams.

  “Well, aren’t you two just so dang presh,” Carol greeted, all high pitches and accent. Brady threw the arm not toting their bag around Sloane’s shoulder. “We’re going to have to take a lot of pictures while we’re on the water. Especially of you two! There are barely any pictures of you out there. Is there something going on with y’all?”

  Sloane smiled so big it hurt.

  Not because she was trying to fake polite but because Carol had reminded her of the online world and the one thing Sloane was really putting off doing. Writing the happily-ever-after blog post of her and Guy finally getting together had been a crapshoot so far. Agent Rizzie had encouraged Sloane to take her time to write the perfect post…but not too much time.

  And now, here was Carol, reminding Sloane without meaning to that she had a horrible case of writer’s block.

  Luckily, Grumpy Brady was Charming Brady today and swooped in without missing a beat.

  “I’m still working on finding my good angle. You know, one where I’m not a laughing iguana or look like I’m three sheets to the wind. Maybe you can give me a few pointers today. I’ve learned the whole bend-and-snap routine, but I don’t think that’s for pictures.”

  A laugh escaped Sloane before she could make sure to keep it on the quiet side. It was like a gunshot in the morning air, and the people on the boat all turned toward them. Brady raised his eyebrow with bemusement.

  “Bend and snap is used to get men’s attention,” she explained, cheeks burning. “You drop something like a pen or pencil, bend over to grab it, and then snap back up.” Carol looked like she couldn’t care less. Sloane cleared her throat. “It’s my favorite scene from Legally Blonde.”

  Brady squeezed her shoulder. “Well, look at that. More proof we’re made for each other.”

  Sloane knew he was just playing into their lie, but she felt the butterflies detach in her stomach all the same. After all this was over, she was going to have to have a serious talk with her body about the appropriate responses when it came to the man.

  One second, she was wondering about the end of his happy trail; the next, she was getting those schoolgirl-crush jitters.

  Carol’s glossy lips curled up into a sharp smile. “How cute.”

  Sunshine, tan lines, and Brady quietly grumbling about the lack of Bellinis started the group’s, in total, four-hour tour. It was nice in the beginning, and the tension in Sloane started to lessen the farther away from Live Oak Launch they got.

  It turned out that the pontoon boat didn’t belong to the Robertson family as a unit but was Marcus’s instead. Brady had asked several questions about its make, model, and price, and Marcus had been more than enthused to answer each. Sloane glazed over the first details but found it heartening that Marcus had worked hard to purchase the boat two years beforehand and had rebuilt and repaired several parts on it. Ruby had voiced her belief that the Robertson parents had higher-end boats that they probably would have given Marcus had he asked. Carol agreed.

  Marcus? That hadn’t been for him.

  “There’s a feeling of pride when you fix the thing you spent the day before cussing at,” he’d said. “I can’t get that with the new, shiny things.”

  Brady had said he loved that sentiment and agreed with it wholeheartedly. He didn’t have a boat, but his uncle did. It was a junker, and that topic alone carried the two men for twenty minutes, talking like they weren’t sitting in the middle of a boat filled with women who had more exposed skin than covered.

  Sloane had liked that time, pressed up against Brady on one of the cushioned benches and feeling the rumble of his words vibrate against her side. He’d made the close proximity move for looks, no doubt, but Sloane hadn’t bothered to shift an inch since. Instead she’d sipped on a Coke, listened to the boys, and let the sun and the water distract her from time to time. Even Carol and Ruby stayed in their own bubble, while Felicity more or less did the same as Sloane, listening to Brady and Marcus and seeming to daydream in the sun when her attention strayed.

  It had been nice.

  For a moment, Sloane had forgotten the blog, the festival, and that Brady Knox was just putting on an act when he snaked his arm around her and let it relax across her shoulders.

  But then big ol’ bitch Carol had gone and opened her mouth.

  Marcus cut the engine near what locals called Floater’s Cove, a wide passage of water that ran across a stretch of beach. There were already two boats in the distance with a few swimmers going between them and a setup of beach umbrellas, towels, and coolers. Carol waved over to one group with a parade-worthy flick of the wrist and then got down to business.

  “So, now that we’re here, why don’t we shake some of the week’s stress off by playing a game?”

  Marcus groaned, which should have been the biggest red flag of the century, but Felicity perked up with excitement.

  “What kind of game?”

  Carol was devious as heck as she leaned forward and made the announcement.

  “Two truths and a lie!”

  Audible gulp.

  …

  Sloane went stiff as a board against him the second Carol swept her gaze over to them. Brady decided he’d have to teach her how to act more relaxed, even when she wasn’t, because her body language was a dead giveaway that she’d rather be doing anything else.

  Which was all Carol needed to stoke her social-torture fires.

  “Just in case everyone doesn’t know the game, it’s simple. Each person tells two truths and one lie about themselves. Then the rest of us have to figure out which one is the lie.”

  Marcus groaned again. “Couldn’t we just talk instead?”

  “Where would the fun in that be?” Ruby shot back, to Carol’s appreciation.

  Marcus rolled his eyes at his twin. Felicity, however, looked excited. That politician’s wife smile melted into a genuine one. She’d always been a fan of games that didn’t require time limits or drawing.

  Brady readjusted his arm around Sloane so his circulation was better now that she’d gone rigor mortis.

  “I’ve played this as a drinking game before,” he said. “It doesn’t mix well with alcohol.”

  Marcus pointed at him, agreeing. Carol, unperturbed, surveyed her audience with an eagle eye.

  “It looks like only two of us are drinking, so we should be peachy keen.”

  Brady looked longingly down at the water in his hand. How he wished it were a beer. Then again, he had a feeling he might need to stay sharp around Queen Bee.

  “Okay, so since it was my idea, I’ll go first.” Carol did a little dance in her seat, like she hadn’t already picked out her three things and needed a moment to think.

  Brady took the small pause to run his thumb down Sloane’s shoulder. He hoped the contact helped
calm whatever nerves he was sure she was currently swimming in. She gave him a quick smile but still looked worse for wear. Like they were getting ready to go into battle.

  How much damage could Carol do with one stupid little game?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carol giggled, held up a finger, and became a pageant contestant vying for world peace to her peers. A fitting image, considering her first statement.

  “I won the Arbor Bay Little Miss Pageant three times. I have a sun hat for every day of the week. I have been to France.”

  Marcus immediately snorted. Brady had no fucking idea which one was the lie. To him, all three sounded like a Carol Robertson special. Sloane kept quiet, too.

  Ruby spoke before Marcus could answer. “The lie is that you have a sun hat for every day of the week!”

  That was surprising.

  Marcus shook his head and leveled a severe look at Brady. “She has a sun hat for every day of most months. I know this because when we went to France after graduation, I had to make my carry-on one of the hat bags just in case they lost our checked bags that had all the others.”

  Brady laughed at how ridiculous that was. Carol waved off her brother and shrugged.

  “Keeping my face protected from the sun and being fashionable at the same time is a skill I’m not ashamed to have.” She ran her finger across part of the brim of the giant blue thing currently on her head before pointing to the person to her right, Felicity. “Your turn!”

  Felicity ran a hand through her hair and furrowed her brow in thought. Her engagement ring caught the light just right for a glare to skitter across the boat. Brady found himself wondering how Golden Boy proposed.

  “Okay,” she said, wiggling in her seat almost like Carol had done. “One, I have a Bachelor of Arts degree in design. Two, I don’t watch network TV. Three, my dog’s middle name is Borg.”

  The players weren’t as quick to answer. Marcus tried first.

  “Your dog’s middle name is Borg. Maybe he doesn’t have a middle name?”

  Sloane backed him up. “Or maybe he has one but it isn’t Borg?”

  “You don’t watch network TV,” Carol answered.

  Ruby agreed with her master. “Yeah, because who doesn’t at least watch The Bachelor nowadays?”

  Felicity smiled a little, probably because they were all wrong. Brady couldn’t let that lie.

  “You have a Bachelor of Arts degree in design,” he said, all confidence.

  Felicity’s little smile turned into a frown. “Dang it, Brady! I almost had that one.”

  The twins’ eyebrows rose in sync.

  “I thought you had a design degree?” Marcus asked.

  “She does, but it’s a Bachelor of Science, not a BA. For whatever reason.” Brady shrugged. “I never really understood why science and not art.”

  Marcus didn’t look like he did, either. It segued the conversation into the men wondering aloud about the distinction between the two before Queen Carol decided to bring them back to the game. This time, she was looking at the next person in their circle: Marcus.

  Unlike the other two, he wasted no time jumping in.

  “I broke my arm trying to get a cat out of a tree. I can read Spanish but not speak it. I flashed Madonna.”

  A chorus of laughter broke out. Brady, Felicity, Carol, and Ruby all said the last choice.

  Sloane, however, disagreed. Brady gave her a look and was surprised to see a grin pulling up the corners of her lips.

  “You can read Spanish but not speak it.”

  Marcus grinned right on back. “I was worried you would remember!”

  They burst into laughter together. Brady had a flash of annoyance go through him at the obvious lie. The Robertsons might be rich, but he doubted Golden Boy had given Madonna a peek.

  Carol also didn’t seem amused.

  “You flashed Madonna? I think that’s something you share with your sibling, twin or otherwise.”

  Marcus nodded to Sloane. “Care to explain?”

  Sloane’s cheeks tinted a shade darker. She didn’t look away from Marcus as she answered.

  “We had a substitute teacher senior year who told our class to call her Madonna. Someone made the joke about the cone bra she wore to a concert, and Brady, Mark Welch, and Trevon Daily decided to try and make cone bras out of paper when she stepped out of the room. When she came back, they jumped up to do a little dance wearing them, but not everyone was crafty enough with the tape.” She started laughing, so Marcus finished the story.

  “The cones fell off before I even stood, so I was just motorboating the air when she walked back in.”

  “Did you get in trouble?” Felicity asked.

  Brady weirdly wanted the man to say he had, but Marcus shook his head.

  “She was a good sport. Said we needed to work on our moves because the original Madonna would never let us on her stage as we were.”

  “I feel like it’s one of those you had to be there moments,” Sloane added. “Saying it out loud now just sounds plain weird.”

  Brady agreed with that. Just like he didn’t like how Sloane laughed again.

  Was he jealous of Marcus? No way. I just don’t like being wrong.

  Yeah, that was it.

  He also didn’t like losing. Especially not to Golden Boy Robertson.

  This time, he turned to Carol, hoping to keep the game moving.

  She didn’t disappoint. “All right. Two truths, one lie. It’s your turn, bartender.”

  Brady pulled his arm from around Sloane and rubbed his chin in mock dramatic thought.

  “I once got locked in the bathroom at Cassidy’s and had to break down the door to get out. I heckled a man doing stand-up, and he threw a fork at me. I once shaved a man’s eyebrow off when he fell asleep at the bar.”

  A quick glance around the group told him that only Felicity knew the answer. She was smiling like the cat that got the canary.

  And as his gaze settled on Sloane, Brady realized she knew Felicity had the answer.

  What’s more, he thought he saw hurt behind those dark, whiskey eyes.

  Sloane clearly had no idea what the answer was, but his ex hadn’t even flinched. Just like he hadn’t hesitated with Felicity.

  That’s when it dawned on Brady.

  Carol hadn’t done damage with the stupid little game. He had.

  He’d jeopardized their cover by showing that Sloane, the woman who had been in love with Guy for years, hadn’t had a clue about which was the truth.

  And he’d hurt her feelings, even if it had been something so small.

  He didn’t like it.

  No. Not one bit.

  “I wouldn’t be excited about any of those truths,” Carol decided. “But I hope the shaved-eyebrow one is the lie.”

  Ruby agreed with her. Marcus took a different approach.

  “I’m going with getting locked in the bathroom and then busting down the door. I don’t remember there ever being any kind of door repair at Cassidy’s.”

  Felicity was waiting to answer, and Sloane must have known it. She answered with an air of defeat around her guess.

  “I’m going with the eyebrow shaving. Seems like something more people would have heard about had it happened.”

  She cut her gaze to Felicity and circumvented his altogether.

  Felicity was all smiles. “No one ever threw a fork at you for heckling. Stanley threw a butter knife at you, and, honestly, you deserved it.”

  Brady nodded, caught.

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Marcus waved his hands through the air. “You shaved someone’s eyebrow at the bar?”

  Felicity didn’t waste any time. “I told him not to, and by God, he did it anyway!”

  “In my defense, it was Dixon,” Brady jumped in. “And, again in my defense, it was
only after he stuck wax hair-removal strips to my legs while I was sleeping. The only way to get them off was to yank them off. After that, I was swimmer smooth and hurting for some revenge.”

  Everyone laughed, including Carol. Brady wondered at the show of human emotion until he realized what was most likely driving her mirth.

  Now that he was done?

  It was Sloane’s turn to play.

  And, with one look down at the dark-haired beauty, Brady knew she was one breath away from jumping ship.

  …

  It was a simple game with simple rules.

  Two truths and a lie.

  Easy as pie, right?

  Sloane felt like she was staring down the barrel of her first public-speaking exam from college. All eyes were on her.

  Her palms turned slick, flutters filled her chest, she clocked all the exits—which was a body of water and not at all helpful—and before she opened her mouth to speak, she actively prayed her voice didn’t wobble.

  “And try to use something that you didn’t post on the internet,” Carol said, pouncing like a puma in heat. Her smile was wide and sharp and confirmed Sloane’s suspicion that Carol had championed for this particular game to put Sloane in the exact spot she was in now. Feeling awkward, exposed, and panicked all at once.

  “Two truths and a lie,” she said with a long, slow nod.

  She could do this.

  Out of her periphery, she saw Brady smile at her. He should have been more nervous. They knew nothing about each other, their cover was on the line, and, with a simple game, he’d already proven two truths to her within the space of ten minutes.

  The first? He was happy to know more about Felicity than Marcus. Like-a-kid-at-a-candy-shop happy. Sloane had felt it in her body, because his had nearly been vibrating with excitement to let everyone know that he’d never doubted for a moment that he knew which of her statements was a lie. Confidence like that was sexy. Sometimes. Sitting across from your fake boyfriend’s very real longtime ex-girlfriend? Less sexy and more of a punch-to-the-gut, why-are-we-here feeling.

  Brady knowing Felicity wasn’t a bad thing; in fact, it made sense.