Page 67 of Fake it for Keeps

Good for him, dating someone realistic for once.

I give it six months before he’s back to his old ways.

I felt small. Insignificant. Like every insecurity I’d ever had about my body, my looks, and my worth was being validated by strangers on the internet.

But underneath the hurt and humiliation, anger began to simmer. This had to be worth it. All of it. I’d signed up for this knowing it would be hard. Knowing I’d be putting myself out there for the world to judge.

But if I did all of this, endured all of this, and Colt didn’t fall for me? Then what was the point?

The money alone wasn’t enough anymore. Not when my father’s memory was being used for clicks and ad revenue. I needed Colt to fall. I needed him to feel what I’d felt all those years ago.

I had to try harder. Be smarter. Make him want me so badly that when I walked away in July, it would destroy him.

Take his money. Break his heart. Get even.

The mantra felt more urgent. I stood up and moved to the window, looking out at the beach. The ocean was gray and choppy. The same beach where I’d cried until I had no tears left.

“I’m going to make this right, Dad,” I said aloud, my breath fogging the glass. “I’m going to restore this house. Make it everything you dreamed it could be. Bring it back to life.”

I could picture it so clearly. Fresh paint on the shutters, a cheerful blue that would stand out against the weathered gray siding. New porch railings painted a pretty white. The roof repaired, the plumbing fixed, the whole place brought back from the edge of decay. I would hang white sheer curtains over the windows and paint the inside robin egg blue.

And maybe by next winter, I’d move here myself. Leave the city behind. Find a job at one of those fancy salons in town where rich socialites went to get their hair done. Build a new life in the place where I felt closest to my father.

Away from Colt. Away from the performance. Away from the woman I had become because of him. Someone who lied for a living and plotted revenge against a man who didn’t even remember hurting her.

The fire crackled behind me. I turned back to look at the room. Shabby and worn, yes. But full of love. Full of memories.

Full of possibility.

I didn’t need a big, fancy yacht to be happy. I didn’t need expensive furnishings. I just needed comfortable. Solid. Real.

I picked up my phone again and opened my banking app. The first payment from Colt had cleared. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars sat in my account just waiting to be spent.

That was more than enough to make the improvements to the house. And then some.

I was going to see it through to the end, no matter what it cost me.

Even if looking at articles calling me “plain Hallie” made me want to crawl into bed and never come out.

My phone rang with Hallie’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey.” I was going for breezy but the second the word was out, I knew I failed.

“Hallie.” Hallie’s voice was full of concern. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have sent those links. I just thought you should know what people were saying.”

“It’s fine,” I said, even though it wasn’t fine at all. “I needed to see it eventually.”

“Some of those articles are so mean,” she said. “The ‘Plain Hallie’ one especially. I wanted to throw my phone across the room when I read that.”

I appreciated her anger on my behalf, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less. “Yeah, well. That’s what I signed up for, right? Public scrutiny comes with the territory.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” I could hear the fierce protectiveness in her tone. “You’re gorgeous, and anyone who says otherwise is blind. Or jealous. Probably both.”

A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. Colt is lucky to have you, fake engagement or not.” She paused. “How are you doing? Really?”

I looked around the beach house, at the fire crackling in the fireplace and the familiar worn furniture. “I’m okay. I just needed to get away for a bit. Clear my head.”