Famously Fake Read Online Sarah J. Brooks

Categories Genre: Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
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Spencer laughs, though there’s a bit of a cringe in there. “Yeah, I know; I might have gotten the idea from one of the scripts. But it’s still a good idea. It’s the only thing I can think of that will get Randy to leave me alone about Candy.”

“Wait. Candy Seymour is the costar that you don’t want to date?” Candy is a starlet always on the cover of magazines, just like Spencer, but usually for different things. She has a party-girl reputation to match his, but she has never gotten into a fist fight at a club. At least, not that I’ve ever seen.

“Yes, she is. Her dad is a huge producer, and Randy says it would be good for my career, but I’m not interested in dating someone to better my career.”

“Then what do you call what you’re proposing to me?”

He smirks. “It’s not going to better my career to date you; it’s going to help my reputation and keep me from becoming the guy who dates people just to get a job.”

“I’ll accept that. You said this would benefit both of us, so what exactly is in it for me?”

“Name your price,” Spencer says. “I could pay your rent for two months or something. Whatever you want.”

“I’m not some charity case. I don’t need you to pay my rent.”

He puts up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean it like that. If you have something else in mind, let me know.”

I think of the calls we got at Frills today. Some were just people wanting to talk to me about Spencer, but a few found out about me in the magazines and were interested in my design skills. Who knows what’ll come out of it, but I’m hoping this might be the big break in Los Angeles that I’ve been looking for.

“I’ll do a full redesign of the interior of your house. Every room is done by me. And you’ll pay me to do it because I don’t work for exposure. But whenever anyone asks who did your rooms, you’ll say it was Leila from Frills.”

“I can work with that. Does this mean you agree to my proposal?”

I bite my lip. One of the many texts I haven’t responded to was from my mom, who is elated about my new, rich boyfriend. She’s pretty much planning our wedding already, on Spencer’s dime, of course. If I do this, it’ll make my mom happy, for two months, anyway. Maybe we can stage a bad breakup that will help my parents see I don’t need a rich boyfriend.

With a sigh, I say, “Yeah, I guess I’m in. What do I have to lose?”

Spencer hugs me. “Thank you, Leila. This is going to be a lifesaver. Trust me; I won’t let you regret it.”

“You better not. I could make your living space disgusting.”

“I could just hire someone else to fix it.”

“Not if I got you blacklisted.”

Spencer laughs. “I get it. Don’t cross you, or the design world will go against me.”

None of that is true. I couldn’t get him blacklisted from the design community, and it’s not like I’d ever do a bad job on purpose. I appreciate Spencer for playing along with my baseless threats, though.

I hold out my hand to shake his, careful to wipe the pizza grease on my jeans first. We shake hands, and then Spencer asks for my phone, puts his number in it, and then texts himself.

“I’ll call you tomorrow with a more concrete plan.”

“Can’t you text me like a normal person?”

He laughs as he stands up from the bench. “No paper trail this way.”

I roll my eyes and wave as Spencer leaves my apartment complex.

I have no idea what I’ve just gotten myself into, but I’m hoping it’s a little fun and doesn’t end in disaster.

Chapter Six – Spencer

I throw on a suit jacket and then immediately take it off. The button-down shirt I’m wearing is fancy enough for the club I’m going to tonight. Fridays tend to be more casual at Dorsay, one of my favorite Los Angeles party spots.

I got in touch with Leila on Tuesday, inviting her out to a club with me tonight. I’m supposed to pick her up at her apartment at eight. I probably should’ve taken her out to dinner or something first, but that’s not my style. I’m not good at the whole ‘dating’ thing. Besides, no one would expect me to be seen with a girl in a nice restaurant. Dorsay is much more my style.

I can’t believe Leila said yes to this whole thing, but I’m glad she did. There’s already a picture circulating of me showing up at her apartment the other day. Things are shaping up nicely.

Once I spray some of my cologne, I check myself in the mirror again. It’s pretty much the only ‘decoration’ I have in my bedroom suite, complete with a full bathroom, including a giant Jacuzzi tub.


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