I pull out my phone and read from the picture I took of them after Clark and I wrote them down at his loft the other night. There is also a cute pic of us with Purdy. Aww. And one of us with Howie, that he sent me after I got home safely and we stayed up texting well past my bedtime.
Even though I walk his dogs nearly every day, I do have a big girl corporate job, but the hours are flexible and I can usually work remotely as long as I get the contract work completed. I have to pay the bills somehow.
They all peer over my shoulder.
“You two look perfect together,” Ella says.
Shrugging off her comment, I clear my throat. “Rule one: We tell each other the truth about everything. Rule two: No dating other people while fake dating each other?—”
“Obviously,” Margo interjects.
“Rule three: Check in regularly. Rule four: We have a secret word.”
“A secret word?” Cara’s eyes widen in question.
“In case something is going wrong. It’s ‘Howie.’ Like the gnome.”
The girls dissolve into giggles, then discuss the photo he posted of us returning the ceramic figure.
“Rule five,” I continue over their laughter, “keep the dogs out of it. Rule six: No falling in love?—”
“Too late for that,” Whit mutters.
“Rule seven: When it’s over, we go back to being friends no matter what. And rule eight: Have fun with it.”
Heidi shakes her head. “You made a fake dating contract with eight rules and one of them is literally ‘don’t fall in love.’”
“Yes.” I sit tall, all business-like.
“April, you’re already in love with him.”
“That’s not the point! We. Are. Friends.”
“That’s exactly the point,” Ella says. “In every fake dating book, the ‘no falling in love’ rule is the first one that gets broken if it isn’t already.”
“This isn’t fiction. This is real life.”
“Real life where you’re fake dating,” Gracie points out.
“Sounds an awful lot like a book to me,” Jess sing-songs.
My phone buzzes and I glance down to see a text from Clark.
Clark: Whitaker sent the schedule. The first event is an adoption meet and greet at the animal shelter on Saturday. Dress casual but cute.
Clark: Not that you need instructions to look cute. You always look cute.
Clark: That wasn’t weird, was it? That felt weird.
Clark: Don’t shoot the messenger. Those were the instructions Whitaker sent. See you Saturday.
I’m smiling at my phone like one of the characters the girls described when I realize they’ve gone silent.
“What?” I look up to find them all staring at me.
“You’re smiling,” Jess observes.
“I smile.”
