The Big Fake

THE BIG FAKE

PENELOPE BLOOM

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

2. Pearl

3. Dean

4. Pearl

5. Pearl

6. Pearl

7. Dean

8. Pearl

9. Dean

10. Pearl

11. Dean

12. Pearl

13. Dean

14. Pearl

15. Dean

16. Pearl

17. Pearl

18. Dean

19. Pearl

20. Dean

21. Pearl

22. Dean

23. Pearl

24. Dean

25. Pearl

26. Dean

27. Pearl

28. Dean

29. Pearl

30. Dean

31. Pearl

32. Pearl

33. Dean

34. Dean

35. Pearl

36. Pearl

37. Dean

38. Pearl

39. Pearl

40. Pearl

41. Dean

42. Pearl

43. Pearl

44. Epilogue - Dean

45. Don’t Forget To Review!

46. Greyson (Once Upon A Bet Sneak Peak)

47. Harper (Once Upon A Bet Sneak Peak)

48. Suggested Reading Order

1

2

PEARL

Some days, there was just a feeling in my chest that everything was about to go very, very wrong. You could call it a form of “ESPN,” as my cousin would say–like a telepathic connection to the future. Maybe it was just my supreme intellect collecting subtle clues and assembling them in my subconscious. Then again, it could’ve been the text from my friend at work begging me not to come in.

Yeah, it was probably the text.

I rode the elevator up to my floor, fingers twitching against the hem of my coat and feet tapping. My heart was hammering. Thump. Thump. Thump. Big, punching beats that practically rattled my bones.

I slid my eyes up to the row of numbers at the top of the old-fashioned elevator. A red arrow slowly slid from left to right, working its way past four, then six, and inching ever closer to ten.

I had no idea what was waiting for me on the tenth floor. Whatever it was, Marley was definitely trying to convince me not to come in today, so it had to be bad.

Now, me freaking out wasn’t exactly national news worthy material. I had a little bit of a known habit when it came to being overly anxious. If I saw a friend walking the same direction toward me down a city street, I’d go into defcon four over the decision to wave, smile, or pretend I didn’t notice them. A confrontation at work? That was grounds for calling in sick. All week. Even rain freaked me out sometimes, because I imagined all the gunk floating in the air getting a public transit ride via a drop of water straight into my eyeball. I wasn’t sure if that’s how you got gonorrhea, but I didn’t see the reason to take chances.

With a little professional help, I managed to transform myself from a constant mess to only a mess when I had an excuse. The problem? There was always an excuse to freak out if you looked for it. Once, I’d read about a little fish that swims up the tip of men’s penises. I think it was local to Africa, but if you really thought about it, what was to stop one of them from hitching a urethra-taxi over to the States? How did I know it wasn’t in there with a lover, ready to colonize our waters? And why would it only be the penis?