Hate to Fake It to You by Amanda Sellet EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Amanda Sellet
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.3 MB
- Price: Free
“My Me-mas morning,” Libby narrated as she typed. Her fingers froze
before frantically hitting the backspace key. “Maximizing my Me-mas.”
More deleting. “What Me-mas will mean for me is a time to Me-mas the
crap out of—” she broke off with a groan.
If you repeated a word too many times, it started to sound fake. Not just
odd ones like toboggan but the normal, everyday kind. Say “coffee” often
enough and it turned into nonsense. Never mind something as inane as Memas.
It was too late to choose a different name for her made-up influencer’s
fake holiday. Anyway, that was part of the joke.
Why stop at self-esteem
when you could catapult all the way to self-worship? A one-woman cult of
personality. Also Me-day sounded too much like a distress signal, and
(despite her roommate’s intense lobbying) My-ween was an obvious nonstarter. Which left freaking Me-mas.
This was not the right headspace for what she needed to write. Think
serenity. Unlimited free time. Smugness.
“Making the most of my Me-mas means starting the day with sunrise
yoga, followed by a salt stone massage while Mr. L prepares a brunch of
hibiscus Me-mosas and Crepes Lillibet. We’ll eat on the lanai, lulled by the
gentle sound of waves, and— Are you kidding me, dickheads?”
Forget wind chimes and murmuring surf. The only thing Libby could
hear was the Pukui brothers blasting Adele on repeat while they worked on
their car. This was hour five. “Rolling in the Deep” had shaken her out of
bed; she’d lost count of the number of times she’d been Hello-ed since then.
Emoting and power tools: the soundtrack of her life.
The bathroom door cracked open, revealing a sliver of her roommate’s
face: one dark eye and crimped black hair that skimmed her chin.
“Trouble in paradise?” Jean called over the sound of the faucet.
“I’m trying to finish this My Me-mas Is Better Than Yours caption.”
Libby stood, arching her stiff back. Finding like-new kitchen chairs on the
curb had seemed like a major score until they tried sitting in them, at which
point they understood the previous owners’ decision to put them out with
the trash.
Crossing to the window, she squinted at the grid of fences, clotheslines,
and slivers of backyard. In her mind’s eye, she tried to replace the actual
scene with an idealized version. What would Lillibet see? An ocean view,
obviously. A lush yet manicured garden. The fleet of employees to take care
of it all so she didn’t have to chip her perfect nails. She probably had a chef,
too.
Maybe food would jump-start Libby’s brain. She yanked open the
fridge. “Did you eat all the Spam musubi?”
There was a garbled affirmative from the bathroom. Frowning, Libby
shoved aside a jar of olives, sending a lone pimiento bobbing to the surface.
If she wanted to do mustard shots, she was set. Otherwise, she was looking
at a foil-wrapped pita—probably old enough to use as a shiv—and whatever
was in this white box. She closed the door with her hip as she peeled back
the lid.
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