Page 44 of I Think He Knows
Lana curls into an outdoor chair, and I fire up the grill. I lay out the seasoned pieces of meat one by one. Take a long pull of beer. Adjust the heat settings.
Am I stalling?
Absofreakinglutely.
Because how does anyone go about a conversation like this one?
I finally sit down in the chair opposite Lana Mae, bending to pet Harry Styles as I do so. Lan’s picking at her beer label, piling a ton of tiny little paper pieces onto the armrest of her chair. I watch her long, slim fingers pick and peel and tear for a few moments before finally saying, “This wasn’t meant to happen.”
She looks at me, curious. “Whatwasmeant to happen?”
“It was meant to be Freya.”
A strange flicker dances across her face before her expression becomes carefully neutral again. “Go on.”
“The media was meant to think that I was marrying Freya. Elena and Marc—Freya’s manager—thought it would be good for my image and for buzz around her upcoming album. I found out yesterday that that was the plan, and that’s why I flew home to talk to you last night. I wanted to tell you that I’d agreed to be Freya’s fake fiancé.”
Her face pinches. “Okay… But how on earth did I end up involved?”
“Well, the original plan was for me to appear to be dating Freya, which is why we were always out in LA together and had all those photos taken. But, on our first fake date, I sensed she was hitting on me, and so I kind of let her think you were my girlfriend.”
Lana’s mouth drops open. “I beg your finest pardon?”
I rub the heel of my hand in my eye and take another swallow of beer. “I told you that this was embarrassing. I… may have purposefully misled Freya to believe that you were my girlfriend the first night we met so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea about how I felt about her.”
Lana looks at me incredulously and I make a sheepish gesture.
“She assumed that you were my girlfriend and I simply never corrected her,” I explain. “So when Elena suggested that Freya and I fake a marriage, Freya mentioned you, my alleged girlfriend, and how you’d feel about it. Someone must’ve overheard our conversation—Elena thinks it was the waitress—and leaked the wrong story so you, instead of Freya, were named as my fiancée to the entire world. And now, Elena’s dreaming up stupid couple names for us and wanting me to convince you to attend premieres with me and play along with the whole thing.” I give my head a quick shake. “I’m so sorry, Lan. I’ll fix this, I promise. Get you out of this mess.”
Lana stares at me.
And stares at me.
And stares at me.
Until, finally, she starts to howl with laughter.
“You freaking idiot!” she cackles, and my entire being relaxes at her laughter, relief flooding me as I realize that she’s not angry. “Onlyyoucould end up married to the wrong person.”
“Engaged, not married,” I correct lightly, but I don’t miss the strange little sting in my gut at her use of “the wrong person.”
“What does Freya think about all this?” Lana asks.
“I dunno. I haven’t talked to her today.” I shrug. “Like I said, I don’t know her that well. She was happy to go along with fake marrying me, but I don’t think she was super invested in the idea. Either way, we can’t very well spin a story about me being engaged tohernow, but you don’t need to worry about it. I’ll handle this and do what I need to do to make sure you’re no longer a part of this ridiculous narrative.”
“You sound like Taylor Swift after the whole Kanye and Kim showdown.”
“Well, Taylor Swift is clearly onto something because she’s right—it sucks to get dragged into someone else’s drama. Like I said, I’ll fix this. Tell everyone there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Lana Mae screws up her lips, making her nose wrinkle. “I don’t want to you to lose a role because of me.”
“I won’t,” I assure her with a dry smile. “If I lose out on the role, it’s entirely because of me.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” Lana lifts a shoulder, eyes back on her beer bottle. “And you seem to be forgetting that I used the story to my own advantage this afternoon…”
In my haste to make things right and explain myself, I’d forgotten about what went down earlier in the Sonic parking lot. “Oh yeah, what was that about…babe?”
A smile creeps over my face as her tan skin flushes, a red blush dusting her high cheekbones. “I can’t stand that Mona woman. She basically accused Allegra of being a liar and a sociopath because she told her friends at Sunday school today about us being in bed together and mentioned that you were going to be coming to the daddy daughter campout school fundraiser. Which is what you said yes to at the end, by the way.”