Page 46 of The Fake Out

He grunted and continued to flip through the pages in front of him. After the meeting yesterday, Piper had given us homework: a huge packet of questions meant to help us get to know each other fast. It had taken hours to fill out.

“Wait. You’re afraid of frogs?” He dropped the packet, eyebrow raised. “You’re joking, right?”

“I do not joke about frogs.”

The questions ranged from the benign to the intimate. Nothing was off-limits, including perfect first date, saddest memory, childhood best friend, and preferred underwear style (which I refused to answer, and Chris did—boxer briefs).

He flung an arm around my shoulders. “I solemnly swear to protect you from all frogs, both foreign and domestic.”

“You are hilarious.”

“If you’ll look, I believe you’ll see I listed ‘great sense of humor’ under my best traits.”

“Along with excellent physique, good hair, and humble attitude. And your fears?” I searched for his answer. “Nothing. You wrote the word, nothing. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.”

Piper entered the dining room impeccably dressed in a sharp red pantsuit and mile-high heels. I was beginning to think of this as Command Central for Operation Faking It and Piper was the general in charge. Doug had scurried back to his office in New York earlier in the day for which I was hugely grateful.

“Alright, lovebirds. You can go back to that in a bit. We need to look at the contract.” Piper passed me a manila folder.

“Contract?” I hesitated to open the folder.

Piper smiled reassuringly. “It’s pretty standard.”

“Do you organize a lot of these fake engagements?”

“More than you think.”

Right.

“Before we go over this,” Piper said, her expression serious, “is there anything you need to let us know about?”

My stomach twisted. “Like what?”

“Are you secretly married?” she asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Have you been engaged? Dated any men who might try to cause problems?”

“No engagements.” I squirmed in my seat. “I don’t think my ex will be an issue.”

“Who’s the ex?” Chris asked, turning toward me.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes. “Peter Stone. We dated for two years.”

The ensuing silence was broken by Chris’s snort of laughter. “No kidding?”

“I would not kid about that.” I would, however, love to erase it from my memory.

“Huh? What happe—?”

I held up a hand. “Nope. Not talking about it.”

Piper cleared her throat. “Have you spent time in prison?”

An image of my father flashed in my mind. I hesitated for the briefest of seconds, but it was enough for Piper to zero in on me.

“We’ve done a background check. The results will be here later this week. If there’s something we need to know, now’s a good time.”