Fake (West Hollywood #1) -Kylie Scott Page 0,37

Publicly, too. It can’t be me that’s to blame. I can’t let down your Gran—I couldn’t live with myself.”

I thought it over. “Not so sure about that. I’m the one who has to be with Gran for the rest of her life. I think I should get to be in her good graces.”

“I don’t think you could do anything and not be the light of her life.” He turned in his chair to better face me. His gaze was curious. “Were you ever going to tell me about her accident being the reason for you dropping out of college and working all those jobs?”

“I don’t know. It’s not really something I tend to talk about.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he held out his hand, little finger extended. “Pinky swear.”

“To what?”

“Total honesty,” he said. “With the caveat that if we don’t want to talk about something, fair enough. But what we do say we mean.”

I wrapped my pinky finger around his with a smile. “I can agree to that. But it’s not like I lied.”

“Never said you lied. But I think it’s a good rule just the same.”

“Okay.”

While his smile wasn’t the blindingly brilliant one he’d performed for Gran, it was real and warm and all for me. It was way better.

CHAPTER NINE

“We met at the restaurant and our first date was here at my house,” said Patrick. “We’ve been friends for a while and just got serious recently.”

I fake smiled my little heart out. “It’s been an exciting time and I couldn’t be happier.”

We sat gathered on the couch, preparing for an interview. Our first ever. God help us. While Patrick was known for keeping his private life private, it had been agreed that his public persona would benefit from an exclusive chat with the reigning queen of daytime TV. And if she surprised us with any trick questions we were officially screwed. While the interview would take place tomorrow, today was prep and a photo shoot for their online magazine. Busy as all heck.

Yesterday had been wonderful. Gran had been charmed and Patrick and I felt like a team. Like we were friends working together as a cohesive unit. Today, however, not so much. The first hint was when he took the seat farthest from me, at the opposite end of the couch. Like I had cooties or girl germs or something. Next, he’d grunted at me when I said good morning. Always a delightful way to be greeted. I kind of wanted to throw something at him.

“Making her dinner should score well with women,” reported Angie, tapping a stylus against her leg. “What was your first impression of Norah?”

Patrick licked his lips. “She seemed nice.”

I snorted.

“Jesus Christ, Paddy,” moaned Mei.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” Angie frowned. “Really?”

“She was pretty, too,” he added, earning a C for effort.

I crossed my legs, settling in for the long haul. “You couldn’t even throw a very in there?”

He ignored my comment and rubbed at his temples like he had a headache. Poor baby.

God only knows what he was doing last night. He’d stumbled in sometime after four in the morning, making enough noise to wake me. And I did not leave my room to help him, because I’d dealt with enough drunken idiots while working in bars.

“Work on it,” ordered Angie.

Patrick just grunted. Again.

“Norah, what was your first impression of Patrick?” asked Angie in a brisk tone.

“I thought he was ridiculously handsome,” I said, staring deeply into his eyes because that’s what it said to do in the lover’s body language article I read. No way was I going to screw this up and have Gran thrown out of her new digs. “Of course I did. But the more we got to talking, the more I fell for that beautiful deep voice and the way he has of speaking. How he picks his words with care. I could listen to him all day.”

If anything, Patrick appeared to be mildly perturbed at both my adoring stare and my speech. But Angie nodded in approval.

“I like it,” said Mei. “Shows that you care about who he is as a person and you’re not just in it to bang him like a drum.”

“Right?” I asked with a grin. “I think it makes me sound deep.”

Mei gave me a thumbs-up. “Totally.”

This was the great thing about Mei. She made even stressful work things fun. And holy hell, did I need the support of a friend. The thought of setting myself up for another possible