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“I can’t believe this.”
“I can. It’s going to be a blast.”
“So, wait.” Madeline furrowed her brow as we moved forward in the line. The author she so badly wanted to see was sitting at the table surrounded by other women, her husband standing behind her—willing to stop and take photos for her fans. We were further back in the line and, as Holly was engrossed in her Kindle, I told Madeline everything—starting with the kiss after the wedding, to creating a fake boyfriend, and Elliot being so willing to take the role. “Elliot is going to be your fake boyfriend for three weeks? And you’re totally okay with this?”
“No I’m not okay with it, but he’s insisting, and I’m desperate. I was close to asking Milo if he would pretend via the phone.” I folded my arms over my chest, embarrassment settling in. In reality, this entire thing was stupid.
“You know he would have too, but your family knows Milo.” Madeline gave me a sideways glance, her brain practically buzzing.
“It would just be a few phone calls here and there and letting me send random photos too, but not that it matters anyway because Elliot is going to pretend to be Daxton. Oh, and get this - his middle nameisDaxton.”
Madeline shook her head and let out a small laugh. “You do know he’s going to love this don’t you? He always asks about you, and then told us he was pretty sure you were ghosting him.”
“I wasn’t ghosting him. I was just . . .” I trailed off, knowing full well that Madeline knew, from Elliot, that he hadn’t heard from me in months. Granted, she didn't know until just now that I had gotten a ride home from him—and a kiss—but Elliot had let it slip that I was avoiding him. “Busy,” I finished.
“Jamie,” Madeline sighed. “I know for a fact you weren't ‘busy,’ and you would always turn down going to see his band play. I wasn’t blind to it. I knew something was going on, I'm just glad you finally told me . . . but now we need to figure out this fake boyfriend scenario.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. We said we’d meet in a few days and go over logistics and then we’re off to Park City. He owns a business, I’m pretty sure he won't stay the full three weeks, and then there's the agent he talked to last night . . .” I motioned towards the line as it moved forward, Madeline took a few steps, placing a hand on Holly’s shoulder so she’d stay with us.
“An agent?”
I nodded. “Yeah, one from a record label. Apparently, they want to get signed and they seem to have a label interested enough to come to the Piano Bar. We didn’t talk about it much . . . he was more interested in—”
“That's amazing!” Madeline interrupted, shouting louder than she meant to. Others in line turned to look at her, scowling in annoyance. She scrunched her shoulders and clenched her teeth. Turning to me she said, softer, “They deserve it, I know that’s been a dream of Elliot’s for a while now.”
“But he owns a business, how will he get signed to a record label if he’s working at his company?”
“That's something to ask him. I’m assuming you’ll have to get to know him a little before the vacation. You can’t go in pretending to know a man you’ve been dating for five months. You two need toget your story straight.” She raised her finger in the air proving her point.
“Which is why we will be meeting, but again, I'm not worried. I know enough about Elliot to sneak through. I’ll just have to tell him my family’s names and remind him, constantly, that his name is Daxton,” I told her, taking a few more steps to the table. “It’s almost your turn.”
“You know enough to ‘sneak through?’” Madeline turned towards the table. “So, tell me . . .” she began. “What’s his band's name?”
“Savaged Whittakers.”
“And what kind of company does he own?”
“Um . . .” I thought. “A . . . paper . . . company?”
Madeline pinched her brow. “He doesn’t work for Dunder Mifflin. What kind of car does he drive?”
“Easy, a Jeep.”
“And how does he take his coffee?”
I looked at her, shrugging my shoulders when her glare deepened.
“What's his favorite TV Show? What kind of books does he prefer? Does he like dogs or cats? What’s his favorite color? What brand of shoes does he wear most often?”
“Maddie . . .”
“These are the kinds of things couples know about each other. I’ve read enough fake dating tropes to know that if you don’t ask him these questions, it's not going to end well. You two need to get your story straight if you think your family is going to believe you at all.”
I looked at her, our eyes locked. I knew she was right, I just didn't want her to be.
“It’s your turn,” I said slowly as the person in front of her left, opening the path to the author.
Madeline spun and walked up towards the table. Madeline had met Brooke Easten Turner during their honeymoon, and, by the sounds of it, Brooke remembered her. She stood from the table andwalked around to give Madeline a hug, her husband giving them a smile as he raised his phone to snap a picture of them. They chatted, and Brooke even asked where Milo was.
