The Fake Game Read online

  The Fake Game

  Kim Hartfield

  The Fake Game

  Published by Kim Hartfield

  Copyright © 2020 Kim Hartfield

  All Rights Reserved

  May not be copied or distributed without prior written permission.

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  One

  Tabby

  I squinted at the paper in front of me. With my vision blurring, I wondered how I was going to get through the next few paragraphs – not to mention the two hundred more pages underneath this one.

  Why had I gone into this career, again? Oh, right – because I loved literature. What a foolish thing to do. I should’ve become a flight attendant or a secretary and read in my spare time. I could’ve kept my passion for books rather than dragging it through this slow, painful death.

  I forced myself to slowly blink. There, that was better. I could make out the individual words on the page now – although I still had no interest in the sentences the author had formed by stringing them together.

  Willa Morris’s books were not my style. I’d told Carmine that over and over, and yet she insisted that I edit them. “You’re my best developmental editor,” she claimed. Which would’ve been a nice thing to hear, except that it meant I had to sludge through three hundred pages of utter tripe.

  This book was a complete rehash of her last few novels. It was just the same thing over and over. We marketed them as “a subversive new addition to the Arthurian fantasy genre,” but there was nothing new or original about them.

  The hero was in the middle of a page-long contemplation about the specific color of his ex-girlfriend’s eyes. Eyes weren’t that interesting in real life! They only took one word to describe! Brown, blue, hazel – maybe a few more words to talk about their sparkle or shine, if I was being generous.

  The guy was supposed to be saving her from a dragon attack. Why wasn’t the author talking about that? Heaving a sigh, I scribbled a note in the margin. The only positive thing I could say about Willa Morris was that her books sold.

  A knock came at my office door, and I looked up. “Come in.”

  As soon as I saw Marie’s smiling face, my frustration melted away. She was one of the publicists at the company, and over the past few years, she’d also become a good friend. Her statuesque frame and stunning features had intimidated me until I’d found out what a sweet, down-to-earth person she was. As far as I could tell, she had nothing but kind words and gestures for everyone.

  “Hey,” she said. “Shawarma today?”

  We’d been getting lunch together once or twice a week lately, and although we both liked trying new places, we were also both obsessed with the shawarma place on the corner of the street.

  I nodded as I stood up. I came up to her shoulders, which meant every time I was close to her I caught a whiff of the thick, jasmine-scented brown locks that fell around those shoulders. “I’m going crazy slogging through this new Willa Morris book.”

  “Ugh,” she said sympathetically. She shared my opinions on Morris. Too bad readers didn’t. “I have something to take your mind off it.”

  “Oh?”

  We headed toward the elevator, and she stayed strategically quiet until we were on it, alone. “Some juicy gossip for you.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Well…” Her pink lips curved upward in a sly smile. “There are going to be some shake-ups in the company. Soon.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  “No more Carmine,” she mouthed, her eyebrows shooting straight up in conspiratorial glee.

  I covered my mouth with my hand, half-gasping and half-laughing. My boss, the director of the editing department, wasn’t exactly universally beloved. But… if she was getting fired, maybe any of us could be on the chopping block.

  “Why?” I asked, almost as silently as Marie. “And when? And who else?”

  Her hand brushed my arm, signaling me to walk out of the elevator as the doors opened. “I don’t have all the details. It’s not public knowledge yet. I shouldn’t be telling you, but… they’re bringing someone in from outside.” She lifted a slim shoulder in a shrug, and I noticed how the pale pink turtleneck she was wearing emphasized the curves of her body.

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I overheard Denny talking on the phone.” He was the CEO of the whole company. “I pressed him for details, and he said not to tell anyone.”

  “Oh.” I kind of wished they’d promote me instead, but it seemed like they preferred candidates with management experience. “That’s crazy. I wonder how she’ll take it.”

  “Badly, probably.” Marie gave me a devilish grin.

  “I can’t believe you dislike her as much as I do, and you don’t even have to work under her.”

  “You’ve been telling me horror stories about that woman for years.”

  At the shawarma place, we grabbed a seat by the door and slid off our winter coats. Marie went up to order for both of us – she knew what I liked. Although the restaurant was loud and the tables were greasy, the food couldn’t be beat.

  She returned a minute later with my usual chicken wrap and roasted potatoes.

  “Thanks so much,” I said. “I’ll get you next time.”

  “Not a problem.” She plopped into the booth across from me and took a long sip of her Diet Coke.

  I leaned forward, putting my hand over hers to grab her attention. “So, Carmine doesn’t even know about this yet?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Tabby, I’ve told you everything I know. I haven’t –”

  “Tabby?”

  My blood froze at the sound of my name. I looked up slowly, afraid of what I’d find. I didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but it didn’t sound too friendly.

  In a heartbeat, my worst fears came true. “Parker,” I breathed.

  My ex-boyfriend.

  We’d had a turbulent year-long relationship. I knew from the start that it wasn’t what I wanted, that he wasn’t what I wanted. I’d resisted dating him at all, and once he wore me down with his persistence, I knew he wasn’t the one for me. I broke up with him so many times – but he’d come back like a puppy I’d kicked, and seeing his pathetic face, I’d let him back in.

  I hadn’t seen him since I stormed out of his apartment for the last time, my arms laden with my belongings.

  I had nothing to say to him, and yet here he was, standing right there at the side of my table as if he had any place in my life.

  I swallowed, noticing the dryness of my throat. Vaguely, I was aware that my hand was still resting on Marie’s. The warmth of her skin gave me a strange kind of comfort.

  “Hi,” I managed. “It’s… been a while.” I could feel Marie’s eyes on mine, the silent question she had to be asking. Still, I kept my gaze fixed on Parker.

  “It has.” His eyes narrowed. “You look good.”

  “Thank you.” I wished I could say the same, but I was actually wondering what I’d ever seen in him. He looked like any of the other former frat boys who’d now found a cushy job in the financial district. Each indistinguishable from the next, generic. “How are you?”

  “Fine, just fine. And you?” He still looked angry, which made me wonder why he was lingering here. I was sure he didn’t actually care how I was doing, any more than I cared about him.

  “I’m fine.” I turned slightly toward Marie. “I’m just having lunch.”

  “Right.” He nodded toward our joined hands. “So this is why you were such a cold fish with me.”

  I swiveled back toward him, my jaw dropping open. “What?”

  “In our relationship.” His jaw was clenched now, his shoulders bunching. “Th
is is why you were never really in it with me. You were a goddamn lesbian all along. That just figures.”

  “I – ”

  “Yes.” Marie spun her hand around so she could link her fingers with mine, and she clenched them tightly. “That’s right. I’ve heard all about you, man. And I’m treating Tabby way better than you ever did.”

  I opened and closed my mouth frantically. What was Marie doing? She had to be crazy. I’d barely even mentioned Parker to her. As soon as the relationship ended, I’d been over it. The only emotion I’d felt was relief at being free.

  I had no need to get revenge on Parker by pretending to be gay, if that was what Marie was thinking. I’d already gotten my revenge by living well for the past year and a half.

  “Stay out of this,” Parker warned. “This is between me and Tabby.”

  “I’m Tabby’s other half,” Marie said. “We have no secrets between us. Nothing affects her that doesn’t affect me.”

  The light flashing in her deep brown eyes made her look even more attractive than usual. Deep brown? I’d used two words for her eyes. In fact, as I gaped at her, I couldn’t help but notice there were flecks of hazel in them, too.

  But why was I thinking about that at a time like this? Parker snapped his head toward me, his expression demanding. “Tabby has a voice of her own,” he said. “If you have something to say to me, say it yourself. Don’t make your little girlfriend do the talking for you.”

  My back shot straight. I couldn’t handle him talking to me like that. “She’s not my little girlfriend.” My voice was hoarse, but became firmer as I spoke. “She’s my girlfriend, and she’s a great one. She’s right, she’s twice the partner you ever were. If there’s someone who should be addressed diminutively here, it’s you, you little man.”

  His face grew more horrified with every word. “It’s like that, huh?”

  “It is.” I clenched Marie’s hand, wondering where my sudden bravery had come from. “She’s amazing, and I love her.”

  He took a step back as if I’d shoved him. We’d never used that word with each other, not even after a year. He wasn’t an awful person. He had cared about me. And I’d just hurt him for no reason.

  “All right, then.” He straightened the collar of his shirt. Someone who didn’t know him as well as I did might not have recognized it as a sign that he was shaken. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

  He hurried over to his own table, casting one last glance at me over his shoulder.

  “Oh my God.” Letting go of Marie’s hand, I grabbed my chicken wrap. “Why did you say that? That was crazy. I almost feel bad for him now.”

  “He seemed like an asshole.” She shrugged. “And I don’t take kindly to homophobia.”

  “I guess that’s fair.”

  I frowned, trying to remember something that was nagging at the back of my mind. She’d mentioned that she was interested in women, hadn’t she? In fact, now that I thought about it… she really was a lesbian.

  The blood drained from my face as the realization hit me. “My ex-boyfriend just came over here and made homophobic comments to you. I’m so, so sorry!”

  “That’s okay.” She grabbed one of my roasted potatoes. “We taught him a lesson, didn’t we?”

  “We sure did.”

  “There you go.” She smiled. “And now you never have to see him again.”

  Two

  Marie

  Howard Sanders had to be one of my favorite clients. An old man with a heart of gold, he wrote psychedelic road-tripping stories in the style of Jack Kerouac. His books had found a loyal audience in college-aged males, and their girlfriends appreciated that there wasn’t a shred of misogyny in his writing.

  “By that time, the cocaine was wearing off,” he said. “We fueled up the truck and took a bunch of amphetamines to keep going. Back in those days, the drugs were a lot more powerful than they are now. And that was fine by us. We were going to make it to Canada, come hell or high water.”

  I’d already heard this story, first in his new book and then during the interview I’d gotten him with a magazine. I’d sat in a corner of the room, ready to jump in if he said anything that didn’t match the image we’d created for him.

  “But you know this already,” he said. He was a rambler, but at least he was self-aware of his rambling.

  “I do.” I rested my hands in my lap. “Doesn’t hurt to hear it again, though.”

  “Oh, don’t flatter me. I’m a boring old man, and I know it.”

  I didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. He was fishing for compliments – his ego was the size of Texas.

  It was no problem for me if he wanted to hear the sound of his own voice for a little longer. I would’ve let him go on just to make him happy, but at the moment I was using the time to daydream. I kept going back to that moment at the shawarma place. My hands were still warm where Tabby had touched them, and the conversation kept echoing through my mind.

  She’s twice the partner you ever were. She’s amazing, and I love her.

  I liked the sound of that… a little too much.

  No more straight girl crushes, Marie. You’re way beyond that. I’d had my fair share of them in my teens, even my twenties. Once I hit thirty, I vowed to leave them behind for good. And I’d done well with that… so far.

  “That reminds me of the time I went hitchhiking in California,” Howard said. “I had nothing on me but an empty wallet and a pack of cigarettes. I raised my thumb, and the first person who stopped was a grizzled old man with a half-empty bottle of Jack in the cupholder…”

  I tuned out again, letting my thoughts return to Tabby. She was beautiful, that much was for sure. Delicate features, sleek blonde hair. Petite, like whatever creator had put her on this planet had carved her out in miniature.

  She’d told me more about her ex after he left, about how she was never really in love with him. From the interaction I had with him, I couldn’t understand why she’d ever gone for him. Leaving the homophobic comments aside, he didn’t seem smart or interesting. He wasn’t even cute. She could do so much better.

  As Howard’s story came to an end, I glanced at the clock. “That’s all the time we have for today,” I said. “I’ll get back to you tomorrow with the first draft of the press release.”

  “Don’t take too long with it,” he said. “At my age, you could kick the bucket at any minute.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Try to hold off on that for a day or two. You’ve got more life than just about anyone I know.”

  On my way out of the building, I peeked into Tabby’s office. She was slipping on her winter jacket, her purple-and-red scarf already looped around her neck. As I watched her, she rolled her head forward and scooped her blonde locks into a high ponytail.

  I scooted into motion before she could catch me looking. She had enough on her mind without figuring out I was attracted to her. As far as she knew, my lie this morning had been a spur-of-the-moment attempt to save her from a rude ex.

  Not the culmination of a crush that had already endured for years.

  It was over now, anyway. It was a one-time thing, something we could laugh about from now on. We wouldn’t run into her ex, Parker, again. And we’d have no other reason to lie about being in a relationship.

  A sigh escaped me as I stepped into the elevator. Maybe this was a sign that I needed to get out there and meet new people. I shouldn’t have been obsessing this much over a straight girl. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t been on a date in a while. I hadn’t consciously decided to take a break, but it wasn’t that easy to meet queer women.

  And dating was a source of constant frustration. As soon as I liked a girl, she broke things off – and there was never a good reason. One ex kept saying everything was great, then she cheated. Another broke things off out of nowhere, saying she just wasn’t feeling it. The closest I’d gotten to a real explanation was that I was simply “too nice.”

  I was fine on my own. I had a good
job, plenty of friends, and a nice place. If I was ever at risk of having spare time, my dog Chester kept me busy. Still, there was that part of me that longed for something more. There was a space in my heart that only the right woman could fill.

  But I knew Tabby wouldn’t be that woman.

  *

  Over the next few days, I worked on my online dating profile, typing and retyping the words I’d use to describe myself. I couldn’t settle on which pictures I should use, either, and the more I stressed about what to post, the less confident I felt.

  The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. I polished people’s public images for a living, and I couldn’t come up with my own. I knew how to draw attention to writers, but those skills didn’t transfer over to myself.

  I sat in front of my laptop at home, tapping my fingers on the desk as Chester nudged gently at my feet. I could get dates, sure – if I didn’t care who they were with. But I was past the point of going out with women for the sake of going out. I wanted to meet the right person. I just didn’t know how to find her.

  I bent to scratch one of Chester’s pointy ears. He was a Chihuahua mix, and he had all the hyper energy that tended to come with the breed. “I’ll take you out soon, boy,” I said. “As soon as I get this done.” He’d already walked twice today, so this one would be just for fun.

  He yipped as if telling me to finish faster. “I can’t help it,” I told him. “If I knew the right combination of words and pictures to find the kind of girl I’m looking for, I would’ve already found her.”

  I’d been doing the online dating thing for easily ten years. I’d had a few short-term relationships, but nothing had ever stuck. I’d tried portraying myself as a slick corporate type, a ladder-climbing glass ceiling-shatterer. I’d tried focusing more on my soft side, playing up my femininity and compassion.

  I didn’t think I was that different from other people. All my friends told me I’d be an amazing catch. And yet things ended up not working out, over and over and over again.

  With one last glance at the screen, I slammed the laptop shut. “Let’s go, boy.” I grabbed Chester’s leash.