Chapter 11
One question fills my mind long after I leave Griffin’s.
What the heck did I get myself into?
Middle school me would be lying on my magenta comforter, squealing and kicking my feet if she knew I was fake dating a celebrity. I’m literally living her dream. But nothing about this feels like a childhood dream, but more like a living nightmare.
So much for promising myself I wouldn’t get charmed by Griffin.
But, honestly, it was the giant dollar signs he offered that drew me in.
It might make me sound like a gold digger, but if any sane person told me they’d pass up a big, fat check to fake date someone for a few months, they’re not lying to me…
they’re lying to themselves. I would be an idiot not to take the kind of money that would allow me to live more comfortably and give back to my school and community.
It doesn’t mean I’m forgetting what Griffin did. I’m just making him pay for it.
As he should.
Emotional damage is expensive. Honestly, I think he deserves prison, but he won’t get time.
No man who destroys a woman’s confidence and view of love seems to have to pay for what they did.
They’re like tornadoes, just going along their jolly way, leaving a trail of devastation in their wake.
And Griffin is a completely unaware EF5, at least in my book.
But now I get to make more money than I’d make in five years in just a few months, and he has to pay for it. So, who’s the real winner here—the guy who broke my heart, or the girl who gets to break his bank account? Only time will tell.
“Mal.” Kelsey knocks on my bedroom door. “Get your gorgeous booty to the living room. Everyone is home, and we’re dying for an explanation.”
“I’ll be down in a sec.” I wait until I hear her receding footsteps to take a deep breath.
I’d texted my besties in our Long Live Girlies group chat an SOS message on the car ride back from Griffin’s. Thankfully, we always make time for a girl chat.
I push up on my memory-foam mattress and walk downstairs. The antique steps creak beneath my feet. It feels like I’m one wrong step from falling to my doom.
Their chatter quiets as I walk into the living room, taking my usual spot on the couch.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I sent the SOS.” None of them says anything. I turn my focus to Kelsey. “Or Kels already told y’all who I met with this afternoon.”
“Sorry.” She winces. “I was worried about you.”
“It’s fine. It saves me having to explain why I went to his house.”
“Was it massive?” Shayna looks at me like this is her reality TV fix for the week.
“Surprisingly, the house was modest.”
“Okay, enough chit chat.” Alyssa leans in. “What did his agent want to talk to you about?”
“Well, first things first. We’re going to have a small security team outside our house for a while because things aren’t going to settle down anytime soon.”
“I thought Tyler fixed our paparazzi problem?” Kelsey quirks a brow.
“He did, but it’s about to get a whole lot bigger when the world finds out we’re dating.” I brace myself for their responses, and they deliver.
“What?” My friends ask the same question, the word coming out like something between a squeal and a yell.
“Don’t worry,” I assure them. “It’s fake.”
“Hold up.” Alyssa raises her hand. “We need an explanation, stat.”
I dive right in, not sparing any details as I share about my conversation with Griffin and Karina. “Then his agent had me sign a contract and an NDA.”
“NDA?” Shayna asks.
“Nondisclosure agreement,” I explain.
“Meaning you aren’t supposed to disclose that it’s fake?” Shayna is a rule follower to a tee.
“For the most part, yes, but I had her write into the contract that I was allowed to tell you three. I can’t keep a secret from my besties. You all know too much.”
“Yeah, it would’ve been a hard sell to convince us you were dating Griffin Reynolds after knowing your feelings about him ghosting you.” Kelsey purses her lips. “I’m honestly shocked you agreed to it.”
“When you find out how much he’s paying me to be his pretend girlfriend for a few months, you might feel differently.” I type out the amount Griffin is paying me in the notes app on my phone and place it on our coffee table.
My besties lean in, and a collective gasp echoes throughout our living room. Kelsey’s dog, Winston, runs between them, checking on their well-being.
“Did you accidentally add some extra zeroes?” Shayna chokes out, staring at me wide-eyed.
I shake my head and smile. “You’d think so, but no. That’s how much he’s paying me.”
“Does Griffin know of another celebrity in need of a fake girlfriend?” Alyssa points at my phone screen. “If so, I volunteer as tribute.”
“You already have Austin.” Kelsey tilts her head in jest.
Alyssa groans. “When are y’all going to cool it with the whole me and Austin thing?”
“Once you convince us that it’s not a thing,” I respond.
“Et tu, Brute?”
“Ooh, me three!” Shayna raises her hand, smiling gleefully.
Alyssa lets out a slow breath. “Remind me why I’m friends with y’all?”
“Because you love us.” I wrap my arm around her, and she reluctantly hugs me back.
“Enough about my best guy friend. Tell us how this arrangement with Griffin is going to work.”
All attention is back on me. I haven’t had time to process this situation with Griffin yet, but there’s nobody better to debrief with than my girls.
“I have to make a social media account where we’ll post together once or twice a week.” I sigh. “Unfortunately, that means we have to see each other multiple times a week.”
“How do you feel about having to spend time with him?” Shayna’s eyes are riddled with concern for me.
“I’m terrified, if I’m being honest.” I wrap my arms around my middle, trying not to freak out as I think about spending the coming months with Griffin.
“I truly considered telling him no. But then I realized it’s an opportunity for him to compensate me, in some way, for the damage he caused when he ghosted me, plus his ridiculous interview answers.
” I hug myself tighter. “It doesn’t make up for what he did and said, but it’s something.
And I’d be lying if I said the money wasn’t life-changing. ”
Don’t even get me started on how teachers don’t get enough compensation for helping raise and teach the next generation.
Kelsey moves to sit on the coffee table in front of me while Alyssa and Shayna wrap their arms around me.
“He deserves to pay for the way he hurt you, but you deserve to be happy.” Alyssa’s voice is soft and calming, like a gentle spring breeze. “Are you happy?”
The question catches me off guard. “I hadn’t thought about much more than making him pay…” I trail off, trying to uncover how I feel, but I come up blank. “I don’t have a real answer yet. I think I’m happy, but ask me again after I’ve spent more time with Hot Cocoa Man.”
“We will.” Alyssa nods.
“We’re here for you.” Kelsey pats my knee.
“Forevermore,” Shayna adds.
“Forevermore,” we all echo back.
“When are you seeing him next?” Kelsey asks.
“Tomorrow. I have to be ready for a photoshoot with a professional photographer. Y’all, these pictures are going to show up everywhere, so I need you to help me pick my outfit and figure out what I’m going to do with my crazy curls.” I reach up and squeeze my messy bun for emphasis.
“Good thing you have a bestie who’s a hairdresser and also loves fashion.” Alyssa stands and places her hands on her hips like she’s my fairy godmother or superhero for the day. “To the closets.”
Today’s the day the world will know my name. Even though I know I look ready, I don’t feel ready. But does one ever feel ready to be thrust into the spotlight? Probably not.
Alyssa went through all four of our closets to curate a magazine-worthy outfit.
I feel confident in Kelsey’s cream-colored sweater, my favorite pair of jeans, a pair of Shayna’s floral-patterned socks, and Alyssa’s ankle-high boots.
The look is finished off with my plaid pink peacoat.
Plus, Alyssa tamed my natural waves to perfection.
There isn’t a strand of frizz in sight. She also gave me a natural glam makeup look that I hope will look perfect for pictures.
I’m wearing leggings underneath my jeans and set out black earmuffs and faux-leather gloves to bring with me since Griffin told me to dress warm. He still won’t tell me what we’re doing—aside from the photoshoot—even though I texted him again this morning to ask.
I glance at my phone, waiting for Griffin to let me know he’s here. As if he knew I was looking, a text pops up on my home screen from him.
MR. TOO LATE
I’m one minute out.
I thumbs-up his message, pull on my coat, and slide into the ankle-high boots before grabbing my purse. All my friends are at work, so I say goodbye to Kelsey’s dog, Winston.
“Wish me luck, boy.”
He thumps his sandy tail in response, almost as if he knows I’m going to need it.
I step onto the front porch and lock the door behind me as Griffin pulls up in the same black car that picked me up yesterday.
He jumps out of the driver’s side and jogs over to me.
Griffin Reynolds has no business looking this good.
He’s wearing dark jeans, a gray pullover, and casual oxford shoes.
The outfit gives off a classic winter vibe that perfectly complements mine.
Then there are his aviator sunglasses. He takes them off, and it’s like a slow video montage in my mind. Yep, I’m in trouble. I cannot be attracted to my fake boyfriend.
But then there’s his five-o’clock shadow that’s doing him all sorts of favors, accentuating his jawline and drawing my gaze to his lips—lips that I once found very kissable. But not anymore.
I avert my gaze.
“Hey, beautiful.” Griffin smiles at me. “Did you do something different with your hair?” He reaches up, running his fingers along one of the curls.
“Yeah, Alyssa did it for me. They’re more tame than usual.”
“I love your curls, tamed or not.” He looks at the ground. “Are you ready for our photoshoot?”
“What would you do if I said no?”
“Cancel this whole thing.”
I raise a brow. “Really? You’d just let me back out just like that?”
“I would never pressure the force of nature that is Veronica Mallory Porter to do something she didn’t want to.
I couldn’t even if I tried.” He shoots me a crooked smile.
One that I’ve never seen on the big screens or in his interview videos.
The same tilted one I saw in a coffee shop years ago, when I believed he was a different man.
This is a smile he gives lots of women, I remind myself. This is fake.
“And don’t you forget it.” I gesture toward his car as we begin walking toward it. “Where’s Ted?”
“I gave him the rest of the day off.” Griffin opens the passenger door for me, and I get in.
“Really?” I set my purse by my feet as he closes my door.
He rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat. “I’m a simple man from Tennessee. I can drive myself around.”
“Whatever you say, Griffie. Or, should I say, Mr. Razzle-Dazzle?”
A blush covers his cheeks. Seeing him embarrassed brings a smile to my lips. “You found it?”
“Of course, I did.” I’m offended he didn’t think I would.
I found the video of his toothpaste commercial almost immediately after our hot chocolate date.
They really should hire women to do online detective work for the FBI, CIA, or even dating shows.
Goodness knows some of those contestants need better vetting.
“There wasn’t a chance I would miss out on making fun of you forever.” I clear my throat, ready to mimic his commercial from a few years back. “‘You handle the razzle, we’ll bring the dazzle. Dazzle the world with your smile when you use…’” I do jazz hands for emphasis. “‘DazzlePaste.’”
“How many times did you watch that to have it memorized?”
“None of your business.”
“Maybe they should’ve hired you instead.” Griffin laughs.
“I would never want to take your star role from you.”
“She has a sense of humor, folks.” He claps.
I roll my eyes. “Always with the jokes.”
“We only get one life to live. Why not focus on the humor and bright side of things?”
“You have a point.”
He gasps, and I whip my head to the side to look at him, heart racing.
“What?” I squeal.
“I can’t believe you think I’m right. I’m marking that win in my book forever.”
I smack his arm. “You scared me. I thought you were about to hit an animal.”
“That would’ve been less shocking than you agreeing with me.”
“I’m not that stubborn,” I mumble.
He wipes his mouth, failing to hide his grin. “I’d beg to differ.” I whack his arm again. “Hey, it’s a compliment.” Griffin holds his hand up to block me from any future attacks. “It’s one of the things that drew me to you.”
“You don’t really know me. It was only one date.”
“It only took one date for me to learn that I love that you give it to me straight.” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel and opens and shuts his mouth multiple times, like he’s choosing his next words wisely.
“I never have to question your thoughts or feelings because I know you’ll tell me.
You can definitely be stubborn, but I like it when a woman knows what she wants and isn’t willing to compromise.
It’s admirable to be steadfast in who you are. ”
It suddenly feels like there’s no air in the car. I suck in a breath. I can’t deal with his flattering words or acting when he’s always been fake with me. But what strikes me the most is that everything he just said is true. He described me—the deepest parts of who I am.
My skin flames. I feel like I’m on display, emotionally naked in front of an audience, showing all the most vulnerable parts of me.
“Uh, thanks.” The short, generic response is all Griffin gets from me. He doesn’t deserve my heart or vulnerability. Just the briefest of interactions and responses will do until I get my check and never have to see him again.
His shoulders and smile fall, making him look like a sad, deflated balloon. “Yeah, anytime.”
We’re quiet for the remainder of the ride to an area of Old Louisville I haven’t been to since I was a kid. He slows the car near a lot across from an outdoor rink, and I gasp.
“Are we going ice skating?”
“Yeah, I rented out the rink for us. There are a lot of good photo ops in this area, too.”
He rented out an entire ice rink. For me. I can’t begin to imagine what he’d do for someone he was actually dating. Rent out a five-Michelin-star restaurant? Fly her to Paris just for dinner?
Griffin points to another car in the parking lot as we pull in. “I think that’s our photographer. Are you ready to look like you like me?”
I sigh. “Let’s just hope I’m a better actor than you.”