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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I don’t let the kid see my disappointment as I direct him to the living room. My obsession with Spencer is worrisome.

I can’t help it. After the charity dinner, I knew I was hooked. Then, last night, a random Tuesday, Spencer was out early and asked if I wanted to have dinner by the dog park. It was so nice to do something quiet, compared to the loud club nights and the bustle of the dinner. Plus, Spencer is amazing with Shiloh, and my dog has taken a liking to my fake boyfriend.

The fake part is getting harder to remember. We’ve hardly spent much time together, but it doesn’t feel fake at all. I like spending time with Spencer. He’s a source of fun in my otherwise boring life.

I’m sure the sense of wonder will wear off once we get to know each other more. He’ll have quirks that bother me, and my stay-at-home personality won’t mesh with his desire to go out to every club in Los Angeles.

Our next date is another trip to the club on Friday night. That should be enough to convince me we’re not compatible. Even Abby thinks it’s crazy that I’m going out so much when she knows it overstimulates me, and I get uncomfortable. I nearly cried at the first club when that guy wouldn’t leave me alone. It’s annoying that I needed a man to claim possession of me to get the guy to go away, but I was grateful to have Spencer’s protection.

I sigh and watch from the living room entryway as the paint goes up. I do love this shade of red, which already makes the room feel homier to me. I hope Spencer agrees. He still hasn’t given any recommendations for colors or furniture or décor, so I’m going off my own instincts. My only hope is that they’ll be enough.

When the door opens again, and I jump once more, I know I can’t be standing around this area any longer. Spencer is not coming home for a while. I have to accept that I won’t be seeing him show up randomly at his house while I’m working.

Besides, he knows the painters are here, so he probably wouldn’t show up anyway, even if he did get out early from filming.

“Hey, Dennis, I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Are the fumes bothering you?” he asks from his spot painting around the open window. “We can ventilate more.”

“No, just want to stay out of your way. Come get me before you start in the next room.”

“Will do.”

I grab my backpack by the door and head up to Spencer’s bedroom. It’s the only room with furniture, and that’s why I’m in here. Not for any weird reason.

I have plans for all the rooms in Spencer’s apartment and spread them out across the bed. There are blueprints for the floor plan as well as drawings of every wall, colored in with the paint chips I decided on mixed with some colored pencil sketches.

“I’m good at this,” I say out loud to no one. There’s a reason I got hired at Frills before I even finished my undergraduate degree. I started out as an intern and became an associate designer the second I got my diploma. I’m hoping to become a senior designer by the end of the year if this Frills West experiment plays out well. There’s no way they can keep the promotion from me.

Maybe with the pay raise, I could even afford a rental home with a backyard for Shiloh. That’s the dream.

If only Spencer’s yard were fenced in the way Mason’s is. Then, I’d bring Shiloh along every time I came over here. He wouldn’t mind spending the whole day outside. In fact, that might be my dog’s dream. He never wanted to come inside when we were back home, and he’s always scratching for a walk here.

I take one of the designs from the bed for one of the bedrooms. It’s one with a half-bath, and I’m going to turn it into an office space.

I walk down the hall with my plans and open the door to the barren room.

“I’m going to make you look good; don’t worry,” I tell the plain walls. “I don’t know how Spencer lives like this.”

I pull the pencil from behind my ear and tap it against my chin. I’ve got a desk planned out for the wall to the left, facing the closed bathroom door. I feel like the room needs more.

“Bookshelves!” I say out loud again. One of the perks of being alone is that no one judges me for talking to myself, which I tend to do a lot.

I’m not sure if Spencer has many books, but he mentioned off-hand that he wants to start writing scripts, so he will need books to do that. The wall next to the bathroom would look great with dark, wooden bookshelves against the royal blue walls I have planned here. I’ll include blackout curtains in case Spencer wants to work in the dark.


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