Fake It Till You Make It

by M. Ullrich

  “You can laugh,” Genevieve said, wide-eyed on the floor, breathing heavily against the hand that had saved her face from impact with the carpet.

  Harper giggled, gripping her sides and encouraging her up. When she was standing, Genevieve finally took a good look at Harper and the effect she’d had on her. Harper was noticeably flushed, even in the dark room, and her normally impeccable hair was mussed.

  “I’m sorry,” Genevieve said out of habit.

  “For what?” Harper looked genuinely confused. “I had a great time tonight, and I think this was the perfect start to the New Year.” Harper leaned in and kissed Genevieve’s cheek sweetly. “But I really must go now, otherwise I’ll never leave.” Harper zipped her jacket closed.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Genevieve said with raised eyebrows. Harper didn’t answer, but she shot Genevieve a mischievous smirk. They walked together to the door and Genevieve reluctantly watched as Harper started down the hallway toward the stairs.

  “Drive safe!” she called out in a loud whisper, conscious of any sleeping neighbors. Harper looked back to her and winked, and then she was gone.

  Genevieve closed her apartment door and walked straight to the bathroom. As tired as she was, she was immensely turned on, and a shower would either calm her down or she’d spend some quality alone time with her right hand. Judging by the dampened state of her underwear, the latter was much more likely.

  Step Eighteen

  Don’t Let Others Discourage You

  Genevieve had filled Chloe in on what had happened with Jeremy and the latest developments with Harper. She spared no details and didn’t care if she sounded sickening. For once, she was happy with every aspect of her life, and she finally felt like she belonged.

  She was back at work two days later, in the office for less than two hours before she polished her latest piece and sent it off to Harper, who she had yet to see that day. Since their impromptu New Year’s Eve, Genevieve and Harper had exchanged countless texts but hadn’t had a real conversation. They’d flirt, make references to their evening together, and even discuss the possibility of going on a date, but nothing had come of it. Genevieve was getting antsy, but she didn’t let that affect her work. She typed and typed, getting a jump start on the next week’s installment, figuring she’d be able to free up her social calendar if she finished it early.

  Genevieve had a sandwich at her desk for lunch so she could keep her focus and forward momentum, but that was broken by the sound of whistling. When she turned around, Harper was waving off the attention of the staff as she approached Genevieve’s desk.

  “Remind me to never kiss you in front of an audience again,” Harper said, much to the delight of Maxine who started laughing. “Genevieve, may I see you in my office for a minute?” She looked pointedly at Maxine. “For business.”

  “Sure.” Genevieve removed her glasses and stood sheepishly. Once they were behind the closed door, however, Genevieve pushed Harper gently, guiding her to sit on the edge of her desk as she positioned herself between Harper’s spread legs. “You wanted to see me, boss?” she said in a playfully sweet voice as she toyed with the buttons of Harper’s gray dress shirt.

  “I did.” Harper cleared her throat, obviously surprised by this turn of events. “I missed you.”

  Genevieve softened. “You did?” She stepped back, only to be drawn back into Harper’s arms.

  “I did, and I really wanted to do this…” Harper pulled Genevieve in for a soft kiss that quickly escalated into roaming hands and heavy breathing. Genevieve pulled away first, worrying someone would burst through the door with a magazine emergency. “Don’t worry about that. Dana knows no one comes in if my door is closed.”

  “You do this often?” Genevieve was mostly joking, but her apprehension must’ve shone through her smile because Harper looked her in the eye when she replied.

  “I spend a lot of time alone in here, thinking and planning and taking way too many serious phone calls. But this?” She grabbed Genevieve’s hands and held them to her chest. “This is the first time in a long while I’m abusing my privilege.”

  Even with Harper’s most charming smile shining at her, Genevieve’s heart sank slightly when she realized that “first time in a long while” meant this wasn’t the first time ever. She brushed off these negative thoughts and sank deeper into Harper’s embrace. Genevieve leaned forward and kissed Harper again.

  “I could get used to this,” Genevieve mumbled against Harper’s lips.

  “Me too, but we should really try to remain professional.” Harper’s actions contradicted her words as she reached down and cupped Genevieve’s backside through her tight pencil skirt. Genevieve stifled a moan.

  “If you keep that up,” Genevieve said in between kisses, “I’m going to go way beyond professional.”

  Harper pulled back from Genevieve and put her hands up where Genevieve could see them. “As tempting as that is, I’m more romantic than that.”

  Genevieve straightened herself up. “I had a feeling you would be.”

  “Oh? What other feelings did you have about me?”

  Genevieve smiled and toyed with Harper’s collar as she spoke. “I had a feeling you’d be kind and romantic, and I knew you’d be a great kisser. I also have a feeling that you’re great at many other things.” Genevieve wasn’t sure if she was being affected by Harper or by being at work, but she never wanted to stop teasing her.

  “Come to dinner with me tonight.”

  Genevieve cocked her head at the invitation. “Another business dinner?” She poked at Harper’s hard stomach.

  “No business, all pleasure,” Harper said in nearly a purr.

  Genevieve felt a delightful pull in her lower abdomen. “Pick me up?”

  “Seven o’clock.”

  Genevieve gave Harper a chaste kiss before she left the office. During the short walk back to her desk, Genevieve touched her lips lightly and daydreamed of how kissing Harper was so much better than anything she had experienced in the past. Genevieve was so dazed with thoughts of the night to come, she didn’t see Clarissa in front of her until they collided.

  “You should really watch where you’re going,” Clarissa said. “Or else someone may get hurt.”

  “Sorry.” Genevieve turned away.

  “Listen, Gen, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to put an end to it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Those big blue eyes may work on Harper, but not me. I know exactly what you’re up to, Genevieve Applegate from Milan, Pennsylvania. Google is an amazing thing, you know?” Clarissa started to circle Genevieve where she stood, like a shark smelling blood in the water. “I found out some interesting things about you, and I’ll be glad to share it all with Harper.”

  “Please, Clarissa, it’s not what it looks like. It started out as a small lie—”

  “A small lie?” She laughed. “Lying about your sexual orientation in a place like this is a big deal.” Genevieve looked around in a panic, hoping no one would overhear them. “And if you didn’t agree, then you wouldn’t look so worried right now.”

  “I’m going to tell her.”

  “Yes, you are, or I’m going to, because she doesn’t deserve to be lied to,” Clarissa said as she walked away.

  Genevieve stood shaken. The lies that had gotten her this far no longer felt like lies. She thought of them as delayed truth, but that didn’t sound much better. Genevieve hoped Harper would understand her rationale.

  It looked like date night was going to become confession night.

  Step Nineteen

  Listen to What Your Body’s Telling You

  Genevieve was very familiar with nervousness. She’d even feel safe saying she had thrived on it at one time, whether it was pre-performance jitters before a grade school talent competition or standing in the middle of a basketball court in sixth grade to prove she wasn’t entirely incompetent at sports. But this
time, Genevieve’s nerves made her nauseous, which hopefully wouldn’t lead to inappropriate vomiting.

  She took a deep breath and released it shakily as she looked herself over in her bedroom mirror. She had bought a dress on her way home just for the occasion. A date, a real date with Harper deserved something new, so when Genevieve had come across the burgundy knee-length dress at a local shop, she cared very little about the price. Genevieve felt beautiful in it. With her hair down and straightened, Genevieve looked like she was ready for a hot date, but she knew tonight wouldn’t be that simple.

  This date would have to be about coming clean and admitting to months of lies. Better Harper hear it from her than Clarissa. Genevieve had to be prepared to tell it all and sell Harper on all the positives that came from one momentary lapse in judgment.

  “Everything happens for a reason, right?” Genevieve grimaced at her reflection. She felt more like an inmate on death row rather than a woman getting ready for a date with someone she was crazy about. She checked the time again. Harper was running ten minutes late. Her heart started beating harder.

  Maybe Clarissa had spoken to Harper first. That wouldn’t surprise Genevieve in the slightest. Or maybe Harper had discovered the truth on her own. Like Clarissa said, Google was a wonderful tool. Genevieve’s blood pressure rose. Who was Clarissa to meddle like this? Why did she care so much about making Genevieve’s life a living hell?

  The doorbell rang, and Genevieve clamped her eyes shut. You can do this, Genevieve thought as she walked to the door. Tell the truth and point out all the good that has happened since you started at the magazine. Genevieve opened the door to see Harper shuffling nervously on the other side. Her heart swelled at the sight. When Harper looked up at her with bashful gray eyes, Genevieve struggled to keep her rationale at the forefront of her mind and push her admiration and desire to the back.

  Harper broke the silence by apologizing for her tardiness. “I wanted to get you flowers,” she said. “But I couldn’t find any place local that had anything nice and alive, so I got you these instead.” Harper pulled a white plastic bag from behind her back and handed it to Genevieve, who looked inside eagerly.

  “Gummy bears?”

  “A dozen bags of gummy bears, to be precise,” Harper said proudly. “I know they’re your favorite.”

  “Oh they are, thank you.” Genevieve stepped closer to Harper, not just to show her appreciation, but to relish their closeness in case it all disappeared. She silently cursed the thickness of Harper’s winter jacket because she couldn’t feel the strong body beneath it.

  Harper kissed Genevieve’s cheek briefly and stepped back. “We have a reservation to get to in eighteen minutes. Grab your coat and let’s go. You can bring the candy just in case there’s nothing on the menu you’ll enjoy as much.”

  Genevieve rolled her eyes and laughed. “I can find something to eat anywhere,” she said as she gathered her things.

  “We’re actually going for pizza.”

  “Pizza?” Genevieve said. She stood outside Harper’s car and eyed her. Judging by the smirk on Harper’s full lips, Genevieve thought they were in for much more than pizza.

  *

  The small, gourmet pizzeria boasted words such as organic and vegan, with cheeses far from the overprocessed white stuff Genevieve was used to seeing piled on top of a pizza. She’d never seen salad for a topping, or people eating pizza with a knife and fork.

  “Not what you were expecting?” said Harper.

  “You said pizza.”

  “It is pizza, just fancy pizza.”

  “Hence the outfit?” Genevieve pointed to Harper’s gray and white checkered button-up and perfectly pressed charcoal dress pants.

  “I would’ve dressed up no matter what. I want to impress you.”

  Genevieve blushed. “You don’t have to do that, Harper.”

  “Says a girl who has obviously never been impressed.” Harper looked at Genevieve intently across their small table, the light coming from a series of small votive candles illuminating her face warmly. “You look stunning, by the way.”

  “You’re not the only one looking to impress someone tonight, though I’m sure I’m not the first woman to ever impress you,” Genevieve said with a raised eyebrow before sipping at her water.

  “You’re right, but you’re the first woman who’s managed to impress me every day. And I’m not just talking about your looks.”

  Genevieve looked away from Harper, trying hard to keep any guilt from showing in her face. “Harper, I’m not impressive.”

  “Yes you are. Genevieve, you came here from essentially the middle of nowhere to pursue a career—a dream, really—and you’re excelling at it. You should be proud of yourself. You’ve changed your life in a way so many people wish they could.”

  Genevieve felt many emotions at the moment, but pride definitely wasn’t one of them. “You order,” she said as the waiter approached. “I have no idea what to get.” Genevieve was grateful for Harper’s take-charge attitude because it bought her time to arrange her scattered thoughts.

  Once their orders were placed, they talked about the magazine and the restaurant until their food arrived and their conversation dwindled away to silence.

  “Now, this is a perfect first date spot,” Genevieve said as they ate.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I remember you imagining what is was like to be on a date with me. Am I living up to imaginary Harper?”

  “The real thing is so much better.” Genevieve licked a small spot of sauce from her thumb and slid her plate to the side. It was time. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Wait.” Harper put down her napkin and cleared her throat. “There’s something I need to get out before you say anything more.” She took a deep breath. “I was putting it off, avoiding it because I didn’t want to ruin our night, but if I don’t talk about it, I’ll hate myself.” Genevieve started to panic. “We need to talk about Clarissa.”

  Genevieve’s stomach dropped. She knew dinner was a bad idea. Who eats before willingly throwing themselves into an emotional confrontation? She nearly choked on the rolling of her stomach. “Has she said something to you?”

  “It’s what she’s been saying to you, or not saying. Or doing.” Harper struggled momentarily. “This is about how she’s been treating you.”

  “Like I said, she’s a bully. You said it yourself. She doesn’t like the attention you give me.”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Harper wiped her hands against her legs, more nervous than Genevieve had ever seen her.

  “Harper?”

  When Harper spoke again, it was directly to her empty dinner plate. “Clarissa is my ex-wife.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I thought you said she’s your ex-wife.” Harper didn’t repeat herself or even look at Genevieve. “Harper, is Clarissa your ex-wife?”

  Harper only nodded.

  “The ex-wife that cheated on you? Please talk!” People at the tables around her gave Genevieve a dirty look. She was embarrassed, but much more concerned with Harper.

  “Clarissa is my ex-wife, the one who cheated on me while we were still newlyweds, yes.”

  “Then why the hell does she work for you?” Genevieve tried to keep her voice even and low, but the words came out like a growl.

  Harper looked at Genevieve pleadingly. “Because she wasn’t the same Clarissa back then. We were together for a reason—she was kind and funny, and she wanted the best for both of us. She helped me get the magazine up and running after my uncle passed. He ran a small publication, but what I had in mind was so much bigger than that, and it was bigger than me. She believed in me.” Harper placed her hand on the tabletop. Genevieve resisted the strong urge she felt to cover it with her own. “I needed help, and she knew the right people. Between her connections and the popularity of her column, we were succeeding.”

  “Do you feel like you owe her something?”

  “No, no
t anymore, but her articles were some of the most popular until yours.” Harper smirked at Genevieve. Harper turned her hand over and waited until Genevieve placed her hand in Harper’s. “Genevieve, you are the first woman I’ve been interested in since the divorce. Clarissa can sense that. That’s the reason why she’s been so horrible toward you.”

  “That, and how I threaten her popularity amongst readers.”

  “That too, for sure.”

  “Do you think she still has feelings for you?”

  Harper shook her head. “She still cares, just like I’ll always care about her, but it’s no longer love.”

  “Isn’t it weird having your ex around all the time?”

  “Not really. A lot of lesbians have the tendency to stay friends with their exes. I’m guilty of it, and I don’t even understand it.”

  “Friends?”

  “Work acquaintances,” Harper said. “I know this is a lot to take in, and I’ll respect any decision you make.”

  “Decision?”

  “If you need time and space or whatever. Just tell me, Genevieve. It’ll suck, but I want to move past this and still have a chance with you.”

  Genevieve gripped Harper’s hand tighter. “I need the opposite, actually. I want to be closer to you. The hardest part to accept is the Clarissa you know and the Clarissa I know being the same person.”

  Harper laughed. “Our time together changed us both, and I think she’s afraid of ending up in the same position again. Like I was, until you.”

  Genevieve felt herself getting lost in Harper’s loving gaze. She needed to say her piece now. She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something, too, but this isn’t the place.”