Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I’m glad, too. This pool looks amazing.”
“Why don’t we jump in? We could play a game of pool volleyball. Girls vs guys.”
I look at Mason and shake my head. “We’ll kick their asses.”
Leila pulls off her dress, revealing a yellow and white bikini underneath, and takes the ball from Mason.
“You’ve never seen me play!” she says before jumping into the pool. When she emerges from the water, I’m stuck staring at her. Her curly hair is straight from the water and sprawls all over her tanned shoulders.
My fake girlfriend is absolutely beautiful.
Mason catches me staring and elbows me with a knowing grin. Not wanting to go down that road, I jump in after Leila and take my spot on the other side of the volleyball net. Mason and Malia are quick to follow, and we start our volleyball game. While we play, Shiloh runs around the yard, chasing birds and squirrels.
There’s more splashing and taunting than actual playing, but the girls end up beating us two to one when we call it quits.
“You’re better at pool volleyball than I expected,” I tell Leila as we lean against the pool wall. “Were you on a league or something?”
“I don’t think those exist. I had a pool growing up, so I played a lot. This is my idea of having fun.”
It’s a dig at my going clubbing, but I don’t take the bait. Despite being miserable, I know Leila somewhat enjoyed the dance floor. Until she decided she didn’t want to kiss me and pulled away.
Mason and I get out of the pool and make some hamburgers and hotdogs for a late lunch while Malia and Leila chat over drinks on the pool stairs.
I watch them while the food cooks.
“You worried Malia is going to tell Leila all your secrets?”
“What? No.”
“I’ve never seen you so infatuated with a girl. I like it. Leila seems really cool, too.”
“She is. I like hanging out with her.”
“Good. Don’t screw this one up.”
I don’t tell Mason I already have by making this a fake relationship instead of trying it out for real.
“I’ll try not to.”
The girls get out of the pool when it’s time to eat, and Shiloh takes that opportunity to go for a nice swim. He doggy paddles around the pool while we enjoy our lunch. Leila barely takes her eyes off the dog.
We spend a while longer hanging out, and Leila bonds with Mason and Malia. When the sun starts to set, we figure we should be heading home. We’re nice and dry, so Leila and I climb back into my truck, but not before she exchanges numbers with my friends.
“They liked you,” I tell Leila.
“I liked them, too. I haven’t made any friends since I moved to Los Angeles. Malia said we could go shopping and stuff together. I’m hoping she becomes my first California friend.”
“What about me?”
“Fine, my second.”
We both laugh, and I look over at her. She’s relaxed and carefree, something I’ve never seen in her before.
“Thank you for today,” Leila says when I drop her and Shiloh off at her apartment. “We had a lot of fun.”
“I did, too. I’ll call you tomorrow about our next date.”
“I can’t wait.”
I watch as she walks back into her apartment before I pull away.
I can’t wait for our next date either, which scares me. This is all supposed to be fake, and I’d better be careful before I mistake it for real.
Chapter Nine – Leila
I pull up in front of Spencer’s house in my tiny Corolla and am struck by how big it is. Every house in Los Angeles seems to be big. We had plenty of multi-bedroom homes back on the East Coast, but it seems like things are massive around here.
Spencer told me he had four bedrooms, a living room, a dining room, a den, and a kitchen, plus five bathrooms, so I guess I should’ve expected this.
“Who needs five bathrooms?” I grumble as I get out of my beat-up car, which looks shabby against the manicured bushes. I can’t think about it for too long. I’m here to do my job, and if I felt inferior at every house I went to, I’d never survive.
People who live like me don’t usually hire interior designers.
Spencer dropped off a key with me via a courier early this morning so I could explore his home without him. After our pool date, I’d texted Spencer to ask him for pictures of his house so I could get started on my end of our bargain. Of course, he got busy during the week and couldn’t send me the photos I asked for, so I’m going in for this one-woman consult without any kind of reference.
I don’t mind. Pictures can only do so much, anyway. I prefer to see the place in person, though I usually have the homeowner to help guide me. Spencer is busy filming today, so it’s just me.