Page 93 of The Big Fake


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I hung my head and let the microphone fall with an amplified “thump” and a whine of feedback.

“Shee,” Curtis said softly. “I ain’t seen drama like this since Aunt Martha told Cousin Curtis those nuts he likes to snack on by her sittin’ chair is really the insides of peanut M&M’s after she sucks off the hard shell, cause her teeth can’t handle the–”

Lane gave him a whack that shut him up.

Marley came up to me, her expression somewhere between smiling and wincing. “Well, you didn’t screw everything up. You got us that week off. So… yay?”

People were starting to filter out of the room, even though I knew the plan had been for dancing and music to go on for several more hours. I felt like the worst person on Earth. I picked up the microphone. “Guys, please stay. I’m sure Lizzie and Jonas are going to come back. I’ll leave. You don’t have to.”

Dean came to my side and took the microphone. “At midnight, I’ll give twenty grand to two random winners. You’ve got to be here to collect.”

My words hadn’t done anything to stem the tide of leaving guests, but Dean’s got turned heads. Several people came back in from outside, looking around to see if they’d heard him right.

“Yep. That’s right. I’ll give two blank checks to Steph. She’ll hand them out at midnight. Write your name on a piece of paper and drop it on the table by the cake. If you’re not here when the names are called, she’ll call someone else. Oh, and if you don’t look like you’re having fun, Steph will disqualify you.”

There was a little confused clapping, but it seemed like many of the people who had been about to leave to spare themselves the awkwardness would stay. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

We left together. I saw Lizzie, Jonas, Alec, Maxwell, and my parents all in a group in the lobby of the hotel. They were arguing and talking fast. I considered going over and trying to apologize, but I had a feeling this was the sort of screw up that needed time. If I went over there right now, I’d just make it worse.

Dean gave me a look and I shook my head. “Let’s just go.”

He nodded.

When we got back to our room, Dean started packing his things.

“You’re leaving?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think the sooner I’m out of here, the sooner this will all blow over.”

I considered asking him if he thought his contract with the Pollards would be done because of this, but I was still mad at him. Mad because he’d turned me down. Mad because he’d shown me enough to make me believe he cared about me like I cared about him, but he was too scared to admit it. Mad because he hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me Alec Pollard was breathing down his neck and looking for a way to sabotage us.

So I said nothing while he packed.

“Will you be able to get back on your own?” Dean asked, suitcase in hand. He still had on his suit from the reception. “I can arrange to have a plane here by morning if there aren’t any tickets available. Or I could have a car come and–”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I took a job here in town. I interviewed yesterday over the phone. They are pretty desperate for people and I have more than enough experience.” I gave a tight smile. “You’re looking at the newest graphic designer for Stone Tower’s foreign marketing department. I start next week.”

Dean didn’t seem to know what to say at first. He raked a hand through his hair only for it to fall messily back in front of his eyes again. “Congratulations,” he said.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“I’m happy for you, Pearl. You’re chasing your dream.”

I laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Right now, it feels more like I’m running away from everybody I just screwed over with my tail between my legs. I’m not sure they’ll ever forgive me for this.”

“It’ll be fine. People were going back into the room. I don’t think anyone even left. Lizzie will cheer up, they’ll see we’re gone, and they’ll get back to dancing, having fun, and eating cake. Trust me, they’ll all get over it. And if they don’t, blame it all on me.”

I crossed my arms. “I plan to.”

He smiled a little sadly, then came up to me and planted a kiss on top of my head. “This is goodbye, I guess. And it’s like I told you, isn’t it? Every relationship I touch ends in flames.” Dean gestured around us like he could practically see the flames licking up the walls. “Wish I could say I was surprised.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Hey,” he said. “Can you just promise me one thing?”

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