Fake (West Hollywood 1)

I softly laughed. “Really?”

“Sure. Whatever you want to do.”

I took a couple of deep breaths and shook off the detritus of the day. For the time being, at least. “Let’s just move on . . . I, um, I called Gran to give her the news about the engagement.”

“How’d it go?”

“Fine. Good. I mean, she was surprised and had some concerns. But that’s to be expected.” And while lying to Gran sucked, no way in hell would she be okay with me doing all of this to get the money for her new place. Though to be honest, I was doing this for both of us. We would both be better off in the long run. At least, that was the plan.

“You should introduce me to her some time,” he said.

“You want to meet her?”

He shrugged. “If you want me to. I mean, she’s your family. If she doesn’t at least meet me once, it’s going to look pretty strange.”

“That’s true.” I plated up the food and carried it to the table. “Can you grab the silverware and napkins?”

He did as asked and we took seats opposite each other at the round table. After precisely two mouthfuls he said, “You’re right. This is much better than the reheatable meals.”

I just nodded. Because duh.

“You still got concerns about the engagement?” he asked. “I mean, of course you do. Should we talk about that?”

“I’m not going to suddenly change my mind on you or something,” I said. “I think it just kind of surprised me coming so soon and everything. There was the possibility of it mentioned in the contract, but . . .”

“It was a shock.”

“It was.”

“I get that it’s the kind of thing a lot of people dream about,” he continued. “Having the right person make a big romantic statement. I’m sorry I’m not that person.”

I tried to smile, but it didn’t quite work. It was easy to dismiss him as just a pretty face. But the man could also be damn smart. Then there was the whole feeling of how the power dynamic between us had shifted. Up until now, it had been me coaxing him along a lot of the time. Now, however, we felt almost like partners. Or something along those lines.

What we weren’t was a real couple with real emotions, and that was for the best. I’d have to be crazy to want this level of scrutiny from the media and general population all the damn time. Today had been shit. Patrick was a nice guy and all once you got to know him. Once he decided to let you in a little. But whoever his actual future missus might be, the woman would be made of sterner stuff than me. Maybe someone who came from his world and had learned how to deal with it.

“You could think of it as a friendship ring if you prefer,” he said.

“Are we friends, Patrick?”

“I’d like to think so.”

Out of my pocket came the ring and back on my finger it went. “It is beautiful. Stupidly large, but beautiful.”

“The sales rep called it a ring fit for Hollywood royalty.” He studied me for a moment. “I know. You could be Princess.”

“Princess?” I wrinkled my nose. “Me? Really?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said. “How about Duchess?”

I raised my brows in question, waiting on his decision.

Eventually, he shook his head. “Still not quite right. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I have every faith in you.” I ate some more. It was quality salmon, that’s for sure. And how nice that for once the silence between us wasn’t horrible and awkward. Tonight things were more comradely in nature. “What did you tell your family about all this?”

“I’ve got it covered,” he said, and not a word more.

“Okay. What do you normally do at night?”

“It varies.”

“I’d have thought you’d be out taking part in LA’s glamorous nightlife with a supermodel on your arm.”

“It’s been a long time since I had a girlfriend, real or otherwise. Usually I’m busy with work.” He looked around the room with a . . . I don’t know what the expression was. The man certainly didn’t seem enthused with his luxury surrounds. “This is probably the most time I’ve spent here. Most often I’m on sets working. And those sets can be anywhere.”

“Lots of travel, huh?”

He nodded. “I prefer to keep busy. If I hadn’t been fired from that movie, I’d currently be training with swords and perfecting my horse-riding skills over in England. Working with an acting coach I’d heard a lot about. I was looking forward to it.”

“Wow.”

For a long moment, he just stared at his plate.

“Not to be an unfeeling asshole, Patrick, but maybe this is a chance to take a break. To relax a little.”

He grunted. Fair enough.

“Is acting your passion?” I asked. “Was it your first choice of jobs, or did you want to be something else?”