Chapter 29
“Fake dating.” Claire slowly wipes a finger through the cream filling in the corner of her mouth left from her cannoli as she stares at me. “Is that like a friends-with-benefits thing?”
Westley never made it to the balcony last night. He got held up helping his parents, and I fell asleep on the couch, waking just after two a.m. with a crick in my neck.
“He needed help giving his ex a clue to move on, and I needed help fending off the school mums.”
“What do you mean fending off?”
“Just facing the usual judgement of being a mum who’s single…
young… awesome? Take your pick.” I shrug as I double-check all my brushes are clean and ready for our first clients.
“I guess I’m not the ‘picture-perfect with a career-driven husband and white picket fence’ kinda mum that they’re used to at that fancy school. ”
Claire says nothing, just slowly pulls a pad of paper in front of her, and picks up a hot pink pen, striking it aggressively against the counter before raising her eyebrows at me, pen poised over the paper.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“My list.”
“For?”
“The names of these bitches who were mean to my girl.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh my god, they can say what they want about me, I don’t care. I just don’t want them filling their kids’ heads with their shitty opinions and having Aurora cop the hate.” She’s finally making friends, and she’s happy here. I don’t want anything to ruin that.
“I don’t like it. Don’t be coming for the single mums.” Claire shakes her head. “You give me those names, babe. Lex and I will go down there. You know what? I bet we could convince Liv to come too.”
“You’re sweet, thank you, but that isn’t necessary.
Westley already helped a lot with the camp.
We proved ourselves as a well-adjusted family of three.
Besides, I cleared it up with the star of the housewives of Heart City that Aurora didn’t know her birth dad, so hopefully it’s not a thing anymore. ”
“It shouldn’t have been one to begin with.
Every family looks different.” She shrugs.
“I grew up without a dad. Lex grew up without a mum. There’s no right or wrong version.
As long as kids have a safe, loving, and happy home, that’s all that really matters.
Most single parents are just trying to do their best.”
I wrap my arm around Claire’s back, pulling her into my side. “We know that.” I rub my hand up and down her arm. “Anyway, I don’t want to give it any more time. I set the record straight, and I’m sure it’ll all be fine now.”
Claire turns on the spot, pulling out of my hug and leaning onto the desk as she raises an eyebrow. “Did the orgasms help with your newfound optimism?”
“Oh my god! Shhh!” I laugh, turning my head to the front door of the salon. It’s still ten minutes before Parlour Tricks opens, but we have the doors open already.
“What? Don’t try to convince me you faked your way through the weekend without something happening. I can smell sex a mile away.”
“That’s kinda weird and creepy.”
She bites into her cannoli, wiping away the crumbs before she continues.
“It’s not that hard to pick when people clearly haven’t had any for a while, then they suddenly do.
” She looks at me, inviting me to deny it.
“When we first met, your heart was closed, girlfriend. But now? Now your legs have been opened.” She spreads her arms and wiggles her fingers, giving me jazz hands.
“Okay,” I say, pushing her hand back down while she stuffs the last of her treat in her mouth. “You’re right, are you happy?”
“When I’m right? Of course.” She flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder.
I shake my head, smiling as I pick up my iced mocha.
“So…” Claire hoists herself onto the desk, crossing one leg over the other. “The orgasms were…?”
My face fills with heat as my thoughts drift back to everything that happened over the weekend.
Orgasms aside, as amazing as they were, it was new for me to let myself have fun with someone like that.
Talking, dancing, laughing. West has some special hold over my heart.
He makes me feel brave, has me daring to try new things, be another version of myself that may have always been there.
I just shoved her deep down because I thought being too loud and open with people would have been like shooting a flare in the sky and announcing to my parents: here we are.
“Multiple.”
“Multiple?” She slaps both palms to her lips as her eyes glow with excitement. “Tell me more.”
“You want a play-by-play? Don’t you know Westley a little too much to know details?”
“You don’t have to tell me how point D went to point P, A, or M. Just tell me how you felt. Women should be proud of their sexuality. Men are.”
“First of all… P, A, and M? Don’t you mean B, C, D?”
“Pussy, arse, and mouth.” Claire tilts her head to the side as I choke on a stunned gasp. “I guess we could call them booty, cunt, and…” She shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry, pussy, arse, and mouth it is.”
“Okay.” I laugh. “Well, back to your second point, I’m not embarrassed to have sex. You know where I work when I’m not here.”
“I’d actually love to take a pole dancing class! It looks so fun and sexy.” Claire takes a sip of her coffee. “Do they do lessons there?”
When I had my interview with Claire, and we were discussing hours, I was nervous to be unavailable over some of the busier days.
The interview was going so well, and I thought I would ruin it all by explaining where I needed to be on other days, especially as I still needed some flexibility around Aurora, but Claire was nothing but supportive.
She was more than happy to work around what I needed.
She had plans to keep growing and building her team anyway.
She also felt my years of performing on a stage gave me even more experience in beauty.
Claire was the first part of Heart City that put me at ease.
Usually, whenever Aurora and I started over, it would take us a while to settle in.
I would still feel like a visitor by the time we inevitably moved on.
“No, my friend Presley taught me.”
“Oh my god! You should give me private lessons. Ohh, we could invite Lex too and make a girls’ night out of it.”
“What! No, I’d be a terrible teacher. I can’t even imagine.” I chuckle. “Plus, it’s so weird thinking of doing it in front of people I know.”
“That’s because you care what we think. Women’s natural instinct is to think other people are judging them for the less-than-perfect things we judge ourselves for. Self-love and self-confidence will cure all that ails you. Why do you think I’m so hot?” She winks at me as I laugh.
She’s right, though. I am in charge of the outcomes of my life, of what I draw in and what I put out.
My whole adult life has been spent second-guessing everything I do, just hoping my actions don’t force my past to collide with my present, or stifle my future.
Some days, it’s easier to convince myself I’ve put enough distance between me and my parents, knowing my dad’s away and Mum’s stayed quiet in rehab.
Royal says she’s never once reached out to the people of her past, and I have to hope that includes me.
But then there are other days I remember the people they were mixed up with, and what I saw.
I wonder if they know it was me who dobbed them in.
Royal assured me that no one would find me, that he’d keep an eye on my old life in case he got wind of anything changing. So far, he’s held up that promise.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Awesome, it’s a date!” Claire smacks a kiss to my cheek. “Now, let’s go back to your fake boyfriend.”
I groan and melt over the desk. Maybe swoon is a better word for what I do, because my hot neighbour has some sort of voodoo power over me.
I peek through one eye. “I didn’t know men could be dominant and sweet.”
Claire’s eyes roll back in her head as she fans herself. “Ughhh, tell me about it. He fucks my arse with a toy, then kisses my forehead? Don’t even get me started on the backwards cap. I swear, every time Leif puts that damn hat on, I start ovulating.”
“Ohhhh, thank you!” I sit up again. “Westley had his hat on the other week and then flipped it backwards. My knees almost gave out!”
“So, what happens now? Are you guys still ‘fake dating’?” she asks with air quotes.
“I don’t know.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket, hoping for a text from West. Not for any other reason than I want to hear from him, but there’s nothing. “We don’t have any more reasons to fake things, but after the weekend…”
“Yes?”
“He told me to write a list.”
“Is this like my bitchy mums list?”
I shake my head, rolling my lips in to hide the smile. “A sexual to-do list.”
“Like things you want to try?”
I nod, sipping my mocha again.
Claire sits up straighter, tapping a finger to her lips. “Ohh, maybe I’ll do one of those.”
“Do you even have things left you can add to a list?” I laugh, knowing Claire is extremely experienced and confident in the bedroom.
The smirk she gives me is so sinister, I almost feel a little scared for her boyfriend.
“You know what I’ve never done?” she asks, and I shake my head. “Given a private strip dance, particularly one that ends in a happy ending.
“You know, mine have never ended that way either.”
“Let’s both put it on our list and report back.” She holds her coffee cup up to me, and I clink mine against it.
“Deal.”
“So, he told you to write a list of things you could try together?”
I nod.
“Use that to clarify the setup. Maybe give yourself a timeline to complete it or come to some friends-with-benefits terms.”
It’s smart in theory, but the problem is, I don’t think I want an arrangement with Westley.
Everything we did over the last few weeks to prepare for this charade doesn’t feel like something you just toss away as some insignificant pastime.
He’s still my neighbour, so it’s not like we can just go our separate ways.
He’ll still be there as a constant reminder of everything new I’ve uncovered about myself, and I don’t think it’s a part of myself I want to lock away again.
But I’ve never done this before. What if I fuck it up and we still have to live next door to each other? I would have disrupted everything safe and comfortable about Aurora’s new home. And for what? A few orgasms? Some home-cooked meals and midnight meetings on the balcony?
Maybe I shouldn’t ruin what we have and just be friends with the guy. Take sex off the table so I can at least keep that part of him. The sweet and caring side.
My phone dings twice in my back pocket, making my heart skip a beat. I roll my eyes at how excited I get over a simple text. This guy already has too much of a hold over me.
When I unlock my phone, there’s a text from Royal.
The blood drains from my face as I remember the text he sent me two days ago. I’ve been so distracted with thoughts of Westley since that night, I completely forgot about the bomb Royal dropped on me. My dad got out.
ROYAL:
You haven’t answered me in nearly forty-eight hours.
I’d be concerned if it weren’t for the fact that Aurora’s phone was mostly at home all weekend, and then I checked your messages and saw you were away.
Hope you were safe with the eggplants. Your dad’s back on the scene, went straight to his dealer a few hours after he got out. We’ll be watching him closely.
Shit. For the past twelve years, the little comfort I’ve had in knowing we were safe tied entirely to the fact that Dad was in jail.
He was already being watched by authorities for associating with a known dealer, and they had pages of evidence to put him away, without adding what I witnessed.
There was no way he could have known it was me who laid the final nail in the coffin.
But did he know I left after he was arrested?
Did my mother tell him? Does he suspect me, and if he does, are Aurora and I in danger now that he’s free?
My head is spinning as I type out a quick reply.
ME:
Sorry for not getting back to you sooner. But wtf you tapped into my phone? Should I be worried? Do you think my dad’s going to try and find me?
ME:
The eggplant was fantastic, thanks for asking.
ROYAL:
I’ve been looking out for you for twelve years, of course I have both your phones tracked.
That was the first time I checked your messages though.
I was worried about seeing something I couldn’t unsee.
This weekend confirmed I won’t do that again.
I don’t think so, but like I said, I’ll keep an eye out.
ME:
Has he been to see Mum?
ROYAL:
No. He hasn’t had any contact with her the whole time he’s been inside.
At least that feels like a tiny shred of hope. Of course, when I finally feel free, my past comes back to haunt me. To remind me where I came from, of what I was running from.
This is bullshit. I’m tired of running, of being afraid.
I want to live.
I want a real start to a new life for Aurora and me. One that’s far from the shadows of night, cloaked in fear and doubt, and instead lit up by the shimmers of stars. Little glimmers of hope and endless possibilities.