Page 99 of Fake It Till You Make It

“I picked up some new duds at the Trading Post yesterday. Thought I might enjoy looking the part at today’s festival. Oh, your father will probably call you. Tell him my answer is still no.”

“Mom, we really need to talk. Like now. Excuse us, Calvary family.”

Bethany, though cute, had the worst timing. Amarie obviously wanted to put more distance between them. And Mrs. Walker hadn’t helped his cause. Eli walked up behind Amarie, crowding her space, missing the warmth they’d shared seconds before her mother had broken the spell. She broke from him without a glance, and he was more than a little nervous.

“Amarie, sweetheart. Can we talk?”

Amarie pulled away from him, her once-warm eyes icing over. “Nope. I asked you to stop talking yesterday. Did you listen? Cat got your lips?”

“The expression is cat got your tongue.”

“Either way, you and your cat messed up.”

One look at her fierce expression and Eli was no longer nervous, he was terrified.

“Listen, Amarie,” he sighed, tracking his fingers through his hair. “I have to kick off the festivities. Looks like the bachelor auction is back online, and the town wants to know the winners. Remember, you’re my date no matter who wins.”

She nodded but didn’t say a word in agreement. Eli leaned in, placing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll make this right between us, Amarie.”

He’d fix this at the festival, give them a second chance at love. Eli wanted to tell her, but the timing was off. He wanted her alone and in his arms, not with an audience of his family and her mom. The music, the revelry, the friendship, maybe the jovial mood would grease the skillet, so Eli could slide back home, to Amarie’s arms. The business and family would be fine, but he was back in a tail of a mess.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

AMARIE WOULDN’T ALLOWherself to think about how much she would miss Eli. How much she wanted him to be herone. A job interview awaited her. She had to leave now. Her very real heart barely held together with all the Calvarys rallying to comfort her.

She believed him when he said he was sorry. But she didn’t trust him to put her first. And she didn’t trust herself to resist him much longer. Love hurt too much and she couldn’t be disappointed twice in the span of a few weeks.

Eli and his brothers with Hiccup padding behind them had driven the truck over to the pavilion. She’d led them to believe she would meet them there. It was the first time she’d lied to them.

She entered the bedroom her mother had taken over in less than forty-eight hours. All these different suitcases hung open, each with a different season of coats, shoes, and jewelry.

“It looks like Saks exploded in here.” Amarie grimaced at the fashion chaos. She could actually tell her mother had left home with the intent never to return.

“Mom, why are you unpacking?”

“Because I’m staying? Oh, Russell left his sports coat. Take it with you.”

Amarie collapsed on the bed. “Look, Jennifer Holliday.” She raised up on her elbows, sitting up. “You don’t know anyone here. And I’m not going back to Russell.”

“I know Leah. One good friend is worth a dozen posers.”

“Mom, language.” Amarie shook her head. “Where did you learn that word,posers?” A slang term for imposters, had never entered Mrs. Reid Walker’s vocabulary before now. Perhaps her mom had made a change. “Not at the Hat Society club.”

“On TikTok.” She laughed. “Keep up, darling, because your mother is picking up steam. And of course you’re not going back to Russell. You’re in love with Eli.”

Amarie heard muffled conversations as folks walked past the house up to the festival grounds. Of course Bethany would be fine in Service.

“Lot of good that did me,” Amarie grumbled.

“Love is risky business, darling. But you have to admit when it’s right. It feels like sunshine on your face even when it’s raining. You’re a fighter, Amarie.”

“A fighter who suffered a blow to the head,” she huffed, standing.

Bethany stopped her fiddling, a behavior Amarie knew she did to hide her nerves. “It only takes one win at love, Amarie, and the pain of the bumps and bruises along the way vanishes.”

Amarie pulled her luggage from the closet, throwing her favorite purple bolero jacket in the case. “I’m leaving.”

“I won’t stop you.” Her mom smiled, blotting at her eyes. “I trust you to make the best decision. Though Eli makes a terrible first—and second—impression, he loves you.”