Fake (West Hollywood 1)

“It’s a surprise engagement party!” Mei attempted to give us a group hug. “Isn’t that great?”

“Do you want an honest answer?” asked Patrick.

“Shut it, Paddy. It’s awesome.”

“Absolutely it is,” I said. “I’ve never heard of a surprise engagement party before.”

“Oh, it’s totally a thing.” Mei took a sip from her coupe glass of champagne. “And it’s only a hundred or so of your closest friends. No biggie.”

“I don’t even have that many friends.” He frowned. “Who’s paying for this?”

“You are, of course.” Mei laughed. “You’re so funny, Paddy.”

“Oh, relax, you cheap bastard,” said Cole, looking especially debonair in black trousers with a matching button-down shirt. “She’s just joking. The wait staff, food, and drink are all from my club. Consider it my present to you both.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said.

He gave me a wink. Lord, but the man was handsome.

Patrick slipped an arm around me and drew me in closer. I went, happily.

“After everything that happened, Angie and I decided you needed to celebrate something good in your lives,” explained Mei. “And to give your friends a chance to show their support. This is what we came up with.”

A reluctant smile stole across his face. “Thank you.”

“Besides which, you should see all the cool stuff you’ve been given,” said Mei. “So many gifts. The spare room is already full. More flowers arrived too, but we were running out of room, so I sent them on to your Gran’s nursing home.”

“Wow.”

“I invited her and offered to send a car, but she said she had cards tonight and couldn’t make it,” continued Mei.

“Fair enough.”

“I promised to give her more notification for the bachelorette party. She’s pretty fired up for that. Suggested we all hop a private jet for Vegas.” Mei obviously still had her own opinions regarding the legitimacy of my and Patrick’s relationship. Or she just really liked to organize parties. “Your friend Zena, who also couldn’t make it tonight due to a thing with her boyfriend’s parents, seconded that idea. I guess Vegas it is!”

“When are you going to come work for me, Mei?” asked Cole, taking a sip of his vodka on the rocks. Such a serious drinker.

Patrick returned to frowning.

Mei just shook her head. “Not a chance, Mr. Landry. You’d have me following you around nightclubs until all hours of the morning, asking pretty women for their phone numbers, and keeping your weird sex secrets. I almost have a private life, right now. It’s so close. My cell only rings at four in the morning once or twice a week. I haven’t had to live out of a suitcase for over a month. I mean, the worst, most awkward thing I’ve had to do lately for Paddy apart from folding his underwear is paying a sushi restaurant to open and make dinner for him after hours. That and fly out some peonies from Paris for his fiancée’s grandma and macarons for his mom. And organize this whole party in under twenty-four hours, meaning I only got three hours’ sleep last night. You have no idea how good I’ve got it!”

“We’re talking six figures here, Mei,” said Cole.

“Like I’m not already getting that.” Mei laughed. “Try harder, Mr. Landry.”

“Don’t try harder,” grumbled Patrick. “I need Mei to run my new production company.”

“Oh do you now?” Mei rubbed her hands together. “How exciting. Have your people call my people, Paddy.”

“You are my people.”

“About time,” said Cole. “I’ve been telling you to start one for years and get in on that side of things.”

“Hold up. You flew flowers over from France?” I asked.

Patrick winced. “Not a big deal.”

“It sort of is. Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

He just looked away all embarrassed.

“But you really should fold your own underwear,” I said, giving him a nudge with my elbow.

“Please.” Mei laughed. “Like me or the housekeeper doesn’t deal with both of your intimate apparel.”

“You have to answer calls at four in the morning?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” said Mei. “There’s a reason why the money for this sort of position can be high. I used to work for a director who had me carry around three cell phones at all times. Two of which had to be answered whenever they rung, day or night. It’s not unusual in the industry. I was required to be present from when he woke up in the morning until he went to bed at night. Just in case he needed something.”

“Hollywood can be a lot of things,” said Cole. “But kind is rarely one of them.”

Patrick snorted. “True.”

“Yeah. He was an ass. The first time he yelled abuse at me was the last time he yelled abuse at me,” she continued. “I’d already met Paddy and knew he needed someone to sort him out. We settled on a figure and some boundaries. And now here we are in a happy place where I’m remunerated appropriately and eighteen hour days are the rare exception and not the rule. Yay!”