by Sarah Smith
“Crap—that reminds me. Jamie.”
“What about him?” Tate’s jaw tenses.
I run a hand over his face. He relaxes instantly. “Things are going to be so awkward when we see him at the worksite.”
“I can be professional,” Tate says.
I raise a doubtful eyebrow.
“I can try to be professional,” he amends. “We’re all adults. If he can’t deal with us, he can quit.”
I follow him to Will’s office, where Will greets us with a startled snort before spinning away from his computer screen. I recognize the eBay logo before he minimizes the window. Lynn trots in seconds later and moves a chair next to Will.
She beams her signature megawatt smile. “My dream team!”
Tate shoots me a heart-melting sideways smile that Lynn can’t see because she’s rummaging through the notepad she brought with her. Will doesn’t notice, either, because he’s discreetly kicking his box of Star Wars action figures farther underneath his desk so Lynn can’t see. My insides quiver with the knowledge that from now on, Tate can give me as many sweet looks Monday through Friday as he pleases. I grip the arms of the chair, vibrating with joy.
“So! I’d love to hear an update on how things are going on the social media and marketing fronts regarding the homebuilding project,” Lynn says.
I grab the relationship disclosure form from Tate. “Before we get into that, we want to give you this.”
I slide the paper onto Will’s desk. He and Lynn do identical jaw drops.
“You two are dating?” Lynn says.
We both nod with tight-lipped smiles.
Will makes a “huh” sound.
“Well. I can safely say I did not see this coming.” Lynn smiles warmly and makes eye contact with both of us. “How’s that for romance in the workplace?”
“Thank you,” I say. “Now, as far as the social media and marketing efforts for the homebuilding project are concerned, Tate and I have some excellent ideas and plans for the upcoming months. We’ve already put a lot of work into it.”
“Every time we post a hashtag, it trends locally for the entire workweek,” Tate adds. “And Nuts & Bolts has doubled its number of social media followers since the charity homebuilding project kicked off almost two months ago.”
“And from those press releases I’ve written and sent, I’ve scheduled two upcoming interviews with local news stations,” I say. “Nuts & Bolts’ homebuilding project is being included in a community magazine feature about community service too. The local newspaper is also going to do a write-up about us next month.”
“How wonderful,” Lynn interjects in happy tones. Will nods along.
“It is. And I think Tate and I should be compensated fairly for the additional work we’re doing. We appreciate the extra vacation, but building the home is projected to take about a year. That means at least a year of carrying out this extra work for the marketing and social media project. Both of us feel a raise is justified.”
The words fall from my mouth with natural ease. It’s no effort at all to speak so assertively. This is me. I can be soft, hard, assertive, sensitive, thoughtful, decisive, and more.
Tate chimes his agreement.
Lynn responds with a smile. “Spoken like a true boss. I always knew you had it in you, Emmie. It’s a pleasure to see it come out with this project. I have a feeling you’ll go far at Nuts & Bolts if you keep this up. So encouraging to see a young lady like you carve out a place for herself here.”
Lynn’s reply has me glowing. In this moment, we’re more than just coworkers. We’re women in a mostly male workforce at different points in our career, but with the same goal: to succeed. I see Lynn in a new light now. With her take-charge attitude and cheery spirit, she’s established a meaningful and powerful position as a manager. The fact she recognizes a similar drive within me means everything.
“Why don’t you two email Will and me later today with an official wage proposal? I’ll see what we can do.”
Tate clears his throat. “There will also be a vacation request for you to approve.”
“Oh yes, I remember your vacation request, Tate. That’s already been cleared. You’re good to go,” Lynn says.
“I meant Emmie. We’re going on vacation together. I want to make sure it’s okay for her to take the time off too.”
I whip my head to him. I am?
“Sure, that won’t be a problem. Where are you kids going?” Lynn’s eyes glisten with excitement. Her enthusiasm for our new relationship is sweet, but I’d like to be clued in to whatever Tate is talking about.
The mix of mischief and joy on his face when he turns to face me makes my stomach flip.
“The Big Island of Hawaii. Emmie grew up there, and she’s graciously agreed to show me her old stomping grounds.”
“How exciting!” The sound of Lynn joyfully clapping her hands is interrupted by her cell phone. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen her frown. “I’m sorry, my son is home sick from school today and is calling me for the third time this morning. Good Lord, teenagers. I have to take this.”
She steps out into the hallway and shuts the door, leaving me to work out the surprise Tate’s sprung on me in front of Will. But then Will pops out of his seat, phone in hand.
“I’ve got an online auction to commandeer. You two take your time. Oh, and congrats! Happy for you kids!”
Will flies out of his office, shutting the door behind him.
I turn to Tate. “Are you serious? How did you . . . What are you . . . What the hell?” I’m a string of incomplete questions. I scoff and laugh at once. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe. But you already said you’d go away with me.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” I would remember if I had agreed to go on vacation with my work-enemy-turned-boyfriend.
“At the hospital, you said the two of us could never work. Remember?”
“Yes.” I’m chuckling in that uncontrollable, giddy way where the more I try to stop myself, the harder I laugh.
“Then I asked if we could go away and make things right. You said you would.”
Knowing that Tate flipped it into a reality makes me beam from the inside out. He reaches over and wipes a tear from my cheek. I must be crying.
“They’re happy tears,” I sniffle.
He leans over and kisses my cheek just as another tear rolls down.
“You must have been planning this trip for a while,” I say. He nods.
Then it dawns on me. “The travel book on your desk! So sneaky.”
He turns his chair so he’s facing me.
“This will cost a fortune, Tate. I’m not letting you pay for it all. I’ll write you a check—”
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “No, you won’t. This is my gift to you. You’re letting me into your life.”
I shake my head until I start to feel dizzy. This has to be a dream.
“My parents had a bunch of frequent-flier miles they weren’t going to use. When I told them about the vacation, they insisted on giving them to me. The flights won’t cost a cent. I found an affordable condo rental not far from Magic Sands. It’s all taken care of. You just have to pack a bag and come with me.”
“You say you want me to show you around, but I don’t know how much I’ll remember. I haven’t visited since I was a teenager.” I can barely sputter out the words. I’m still stunned in disbelief.
“You’ll manage. Besides, this haole can’t handle big bad Hawaii on his own.”
I snort a snotty laugh.
“I want to see where you grew up. I want to go to the farmers markets with you.” He kisses the side of my neck, and I shiver. “I want to climb a palm tree and fetch a pineapple for you.” His tone is soft, encouraging.
“Pineapples don’t grow on trees.”
> “Then I’ll buy you one at a fruit stand.”
He grabs my hand and gives me the most loving, gentle squeeze. I imagine he’ll hold me the exact same way when we’re walking along the sugar-sand beaches.
“And then we’ll turn it into a paperweight for your desk,” I say.
He beams at me, the joy reaching all the way to his eyes. “I would love that.”
“When are we going?”
He grabs a tissue from Will’s desk and wipes my face with it. “In two weeks. We’re staying for ten days. We’ll be there during the Ironman race.”
“What? I’ve been dying to go back for Ironman since forever.”
He runs a hand through my hair. “One downside though. Our flight leaves at like five in the morning, and we have a four-hour layover. It’s going to be an exhausting travel day. Think you can handle it?”
“Absolutely,” I say. “How on earth did you manage all this? How did you know how happy this would make me?”
“Pining after you for the past several months was a good start. The expression on your face every time you looked at that photo on your desk was a dead giveaway of how much you wanted to be back in Hawaii.”
I lean over and pull his face into my hands. The kiss I plant on him is heated, wet, sloppy, and salty. This level of smooch should never be allowed in any workplace, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He returns it with equal passion and affection. It reminds me that no one has ever kissed me like he does, and no one ever will.
“You’re happy, then?” He smiles against my mouth.
“The happiest. This is too much.”
He pulls back, cradling my face in his hands. “For the woman I love, it’s worth it.”
I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words. Just hot, stunned breath. “You love me?” I can barely get it out.
“I love you, Emmie.”
“Hang on.” I grip his forearm like it’s a life preserver and I’m drowning. “But I—”
He holds up a hand. “It’s okay.”
I’m aching to tell him. “No, what I mean to say is—”
“Emmie. I know.”
“You can’t possibly.”
“Listen, I don’t want you to tell me you love me now just because I told you I love you, or because I booked us a trip.”
“I would never.”
“I just want you to have this moment for yourself. Soak it in. Don’t say anything. We’ll talk love stuff later.”
“Why do you get to say it?”
“Because I’m ready. I’ve known for a while.”
“How long’s a while?”
He leans forward to kiss my forehead. “I’ve had feelings for you for the past several months, but the first time we kissed, I knew I loved you.”
He’s perfectly composed in this moment. It’s both impressive and maddening, given my snotty state.
My natural urge is to ask, to question how and why and are you sure. But I don’t. Because I know exactly how it feels. In the moment, when it hits, there’s no doubt. It’s love, it’s real, and it is everything. I felt it yesterday when I woke in his arms.
“I told you we’d still argue,” he says.
My pursed lips give way to a smile. “I can’t believe you’re not letting me say it.”
His thumb grazes my lips.
“And I can’t believe you love me,” I say.
“Believe it. I thought my behavior these past couple weeks would be a clear indicator. I came so close to telling you yesterday.”
I shake my head, recalling that moment when he looked at me, emotion coursing through his eyes. It’s back today, only this time brighter. Now his blue-gray eyes focus, his teeth sparkle whiter, and his lips flush pink. He beams at me. We say nothing, taking comfort in the silence. Affection runs like a current between our bodies. We can thrive forever on this new electricity.
Finally, all bets are off, all shields are dropped, and we can fake no more. He’s flushed and giddy; I’m teary and overcome with joy. It’s the only way I ever want to exist with him.
When he runs his hand through my hair, I stop him with a hand on his arm. I press a kiss to the inside of his milky wrist.
“You’ll have to slather sunscreen on me nonstop,” he says. “It’s going to be annoying as hell.”
“I don’t care. I love it all.” It’s the closest I can get away with saying it right now.
In my head, I scramble to figure out the right moment to drop my love bomb on him. Maybe while walking along Hapuna Beach, just before sunset. Maybe during a swim at Magic Sands, the waves crashing over us. Or maybe when we’re huddled together in the crowds, watching the Ironman competitors race by. I’ll whisper it in his ear, so only he can hear.
For the millionth time, emotion has me by the throat, and I can barely speak. I shake with an unending amount of love I didn’t know I could feel until the person I least expected triggered it in me. My body is overwhelmed processing it all. By the way Tate stares at me, he can tell. And I can tell by how he holds me in his arms that he can barely take it either.
We kiss for the millionth time.
“It’s all perfect,” I whisper as I hug him. And it is. When I speak, it’s the truth. There’s no need to fake anything, not anymore.
Acknowledgments
I cannot believe I actually get to write acknowledgments for my first book . . . HOLY CRAP!
The very first person I need to thank is Steph Mills. Steph, thank you for recommending Gemma Burgess’s A Girl Like You all those years ago. Reading that book changed my life. Something in my brain clicked when I read it. A voice inside my head said, “See this? This is what you should be writing!” The moment I finished it, I started writing and haven’t stopped. I owe you everything for leading me to that book and helping me discover my passion.
On that note, thank you to Gemma Burgess for writing A Girl Like You and all of your other brilliant books. You are a goddess in every sense of the word. I was so nervous the first time I emailed you to fangirl over your book, but you responded with a kindness and graciousness that still leaves me in awe. Thank you for your guidance, for your support, and for your never-ending encouragement.
Thank you to the remarkable Lexi Banner, who read the very first version of Faker. Lexi, you were my first ever beta reader and critique partner. I had no idea what I was doing, and it showed in my writing. Thank you for being patient, for never holding back when you critiqued my work, for calling me out on my bad writing habits, for pushing me to do better even when I didn’t think I could.
Thank you to Katie Ryan, Sophie Berti, and Pamela Castro, who read early versions of Faker. It was a mess back then, but your encouragement and critiques kept me going.
Thank you to Stefanie Simpson, one of the most incredible human beings on this planet. Meeting you in person, an author I admire and respect so deeply, was a life highlight. The fact that we’re now friends and read for each other blows me away every time I think about it. I’m lucky to know you.
Skye McDonald, thank you for your friendship, your honesty, and your kindness. You read so many versions of Faker, I’ve lost count. It wouldn’t be the book it is today without you. I owe you ten thousand drinks, and someday I will meet you in person and actually buy you one.
Evie Drae, thank you for being the kind of person who can offer thoughtful feedback while also making me laugh until my sides hurt.
JL Peridot, you are one of the most poetic and brilliant writers I know. Your feedback and friendship during my revising process helped me so much, thank you.
To the All The Kissing Facebook group, thank you for existing. I’ve connected with so many of you wonderful writers. And thank you for hosting the fan-freaking-tastic #KissPitch event in 2018. Without that, I would have never landed my agent. I owe this group everything for the opportunities you created.
> Thank you to Helen Hoang for being kind enough to give me feedback when I posted my pitches in the All The Kissing forum in the run-up to #KissPitch. From your comments, I fixed my pitches and got an agent out of it. I will be eternally grateful to you for that.
To my agent, Sarah Elizabeth Younger, at Nancy Yost Literary Agency, thank you for taking a chance on me and for thinking that my book deserved a shot at being published. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your heroic patience during my multiple revisions. (Especially to your otherworldly interns. I want to hug each and every one of you!) I will never be able to fully articulate what it means to have someone like you believe in me. You are beyond amazing.
Thank you to my editor, Sarah Blumenstock, and everyone at Berkley and Penguin Random House. Sarah, you are hands-down the most amazing editor on planet Earth. This book is better than I ever thought it could be thanks to your insight and input. Thank you for loving Faker as much as I do.
Team Awesome (aka Jen, Jessica, L-Dog, and Steven), you guys freaking rock. I hope reading this book brings back all the hilarious and ridiculous times we had while working together. A million thanks for cheering me on through every step of this journey. I love you guys.
Thank you to the writing community on Twitter. Connecting with you all has helped me so much. You are some of the most intelligent, passionate, supportive, and loyal people I know.
Thank you to my family and friends for the endless support and love you’ve shown me. I love you all more than words can express.
To my husband, Alex, thank you for being my biggest cheerleader and for always being proud of me. I’m working very hard to make your house-husband dreams come true. It may take a few more books, though.
And last but not even close to least, thank you to everyone who reads this book. For the longest time, the idea of me publishing a book that people would actually want to read seemed like a pipe dream. But you all have made it a reality, and for that, I am forever grateful. I love each and every one of you.
Photo by Daniel Muller
SARAH SMITH is a copywriter turned author who wants to make the world a lovelier place one kissing story at a time. Her love of romance began when she was eight and she discovered her auntie’s stash of romance novels. She’s been hooked ever since. When she’s not writing, you can find her hiking, eating chocolate, and perfecting her lumpia recipe. She lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband and adorable cat, Salem. Faker is her debut novel.
