Page 27 of The Fake Script
So instead, I grab my phone and bask in my favorite pastime aside from reading—scrolling on Bookstagram. With my friends hanging out with their boyfriends today, I’m on my own, and I should probably get used to it. Soon, they’ll both be married and living their happily ever afters while I stay here, alone. Well, with Darcy. But as we’ve now established, he spends all his time in his sleeping nook.
With a shallow sigh, I scroll through the pretty posts, liking the ones that grab my attention and sharing those that resonate with me. And in the span of just fifteen minutes, I add seven books to my already sky-high TBR pile. Bookstagram is both a curse and a blessing when it comes to finding books, because when am I going to have time to read them all? I swear, there should be an extra day of the week just for reading.
I land on a post aboutVelvetKisses, and just like that, Auston is at the forefront of my mind again. I tap on the search bar and enter his name. Does he even have an Instagram account?
Bingo. Forty million followers. Wow.
I feel like a private detective as I scroll through his profile, where I find a mix of press articles, magazine covers, movie posters, commercials, and promotional head and body shots. Of course, the latter are what interest me the most. Particularly the one where he’s dressed like a cowboy but shirtless. I bring my phone close to my eyes.Are those abs for real?I’ve never read a Cowboy Romance in my life, but maybe it’s time I enter my Cowboy Romance Era. I should also read a Fake Dating one, just to guarantee I don’t make the same mistakes as the heroines and end up falling for the guy.
After all, I’m doing this not only to help Auston, but to get closure for myself. I’ll finally get all those unresolved feelings or whatever out of the way. Sure, we were never really together back then, and we’re not now. But I’ll never put that chapter behind me if I fall in love with him. A chuckle escapes me as the thought crosses my mind. What am I thinking? Me, fall in love? Never going to happen. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my happily ever after will be spent with a myriad of bookboyfriends, because investing time or trust in a real man leads nowhere.
After a while, I venture back downstairs. Surely they’re done with their scene by now.
As I expected, most of the crew is back outside. I glance around, trying to locate Auston. When I don’t spot him anywhere, I walk to his trailer.
Cillian is sitting in a chair nearby, scrolling on his phone. “Hey, Emma. He’s in there,” he says, gesturing to the trailer.
I offer a polite grin. “Thanks.”
“Come in,” Auston calls when I knock on the door. As I step inside, he casts me a bright smile. “There you are. I didn’t want to buzz your apartment, in case you were reading,” he explains, glancing at my shirt that says, “Interrupt a bookish girl while reading, suffer the consequences.”
I chuckle. “Right. Good call. So, how did it go? Mr. Darcy kind of ruined it for me.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Who?”
“My cat.”
“Oh, right. Well, I’m happy to report that Clarence loved the things we added, and the scene flowed well.”
A smile pulls at my lips. “I’m glad. I only wrote down one thing for the scenes you’re shooting this afternoon, I think. Do you want to look at it now?”
He beams. “Absolutely.”
Sitting down on the couch together, we go over the change, and it’s an easy fix.
“Well, that’s a wrap.” He closes the script. “I guess I’ll let you and Robyn go pick out your dress now.”
“Sure.” I nod. Even if dress shopping isn’t exactly my thing, I do need to look the part. “Oh, does she know about us faking it, or do I keep that under wraps?”
“I think it’s better if we don’t tell anyone,” he says, looking thoughtful.
I wince. “I already told my friends.”
He clears his throat. “Okay. Are you sure they’re not going to say anything? Sell the story to the press?”
I blink back in shock. “What? Of course not. They would never! I trust them completely. Don’t you trust your staff?”
He gives a firm nod. “I do. Robyn’s been with me for the past few years, and she’s great. Cillian would never tell a soul either.”
“Okay. Then, let’s tell them. That way, we don’t have to pretend in front of them.”
After a moment of indecision, herelents. “Okay. Will do.”
I make my way toward the door. “Great. See you tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven, and we’ll take a limo to the event together. It’s in Chelsea.”
At that, my body freezes, and my blood runs cold. “Um, can I just meet you there?”