I hadn't been to a party since I was in college. All the get-togethers I'd partook in since being a writer were formal dinners and upscale mixers. Usually, the scene was a bunch of people in expensive clothes swirling drinks and talking about their next life investment or trip to Barcelona. At their rowdiest, the writers would convalesce in a corner and get tipsy while playing Boggle or sharing stories. Other than that, it was all very tame. 

Drew didn't throw Robin a kegger, but it was quite the gathering. People crowded every corner of his massive home as upbeat music played from speakers somewhere inside the next room. The garage door let us in through an entry way that connected directly to the kitchen. Upon entrance a cornucopia of food spread luxuriously across the marble counters, making my stomach grumble. 

All turned to greet Robin as he passed through, smiling, and shaking his hand with congratulations. I lingered back, making sure it didn't seem like we arrived together by pretending that the fake Ficus in the doorway was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen before passing Robin.  I made my way casually into the living room. 

It was a beautiful home, and attractively decorated, but one could tell this area wasn't particularly lived in. Which was ironic given the name "living room." Still, the simple line art hanging on the wall didn't echo Robin, nor did the minimalist furniture. From the books on the giant, but mostly empty bookshelves, to the large white area rug under our feet, the space was arranged like an IKEA outlet. From what little I could see of the next rooms over; the whole house was done that way. 

My guess was he had hired an interior decorator, and they slapped their favorite Architectual Digest page across each room. As I passed it, my eyes lingered curiously on the hallway leading to the back half of the house. If the real Robin was anywhere, it was no doubt way in the back, where no one could see. 

Or he likes contemporary design, and you are taking giant mental leaps out of bounds. You don't know the real Robin either. Stop acting like you do.

Ah, the voice of reason. My eternal humility-inducer and buzzkill. Bless her. 

Familiar faces were everywhere, some more than others, but there was only one I was looking for. When I see her standing in a form fitting purple dress, her sleek black hair trailing down her back in waves, I heave a sigh of relief. Until Robin finds me with whatever plan he comes up with, we agreed it was best to keep a distance. Which was more than fine with me! So, I swiped a flute of champagne from a stand, approached the group, and looped my arm with Desi's. 

She looks at me, surprised at first, then gladly when I offer her a giddy smile. Immediately she pulls me closer, and I am happy to stay nearby. Of course, her makeup is outstanding, revealing all the assets of her rounded features with ease. I open my mouth to compliment the symmetry of her eyeliner before I realize a man is talking to her. He speaks emphatically about the projections of the publishing house and the difficulties of working in print after the development of e-books. Desi replies politely at all the right times, but I can tell she's not very invested. That is until he notices me standing there, and his eyes light up in recognition. 

"Wow! Emelia Aplin." He breathes, thrusting his hand out for me to shake. "I can't believe you're standing here!" 

Taken aback by the sudden emotion exploding out of him, I look at Desi then smile with all my teeth. He laughs shyly at his outburst, and our hands shake briefly before he reaches into his coat pocket and holds out his phone.

 "I'm sorry, it's just my partner loves your novels. They can't stop talking about the new romance you're working on."  He types something into his phone rapidly, grinning, "They're going to die!" 

"Oh!" My hand flies to my heart, and it squeezes affectionately in my chest. "Please, tell them thank you for me, and that the book will be out soon." 

As I say this, he turns the phone around to face me, where his partner's face lights up on the screen. They scream, standing it what looks like their kitchen, "Oh my god!!" 

"Oh, or I will tell them myself, haha! Hi!" I wave, smile crushing my cheeks, "How are you?" 

They stare at me with wide eyes and mouth open. The man checks on them from the side of the screen and clears his throat.

"I love you." They breathe, suddenly breaking from the comatose expression that had seized their face. "I am in love with you. Your face, your books, your characters give me life." 

My cheeks flush, and I chuckle, looking at the man apologetically. He shakes his head, as if he has heard this a million times. Beaming at them, I exclaim, " Well, I love you too! Thank you for everything, I hope you'll like the new novel. I'll see if we can send you an early copy!"

Their face crumples, and it looks like they're about to start crying. The man is quick to notice and turn the phone back around, "Okay, love you. Bye!" 

Then he looks at me with a watery smile and chuckles in embarrassment, "Thank you. That meant the world." His eyes fall to his hands then he says tentatively, "And if it wouldn't be too much to ask... Could I get an autograph? It's for Skylar. " 

"I'll find a pen and paper." I grin. He beams at me, and I pat Desi on the arm before turning away. "Be right back." 

Wandering through the house, I search for anything resembling a notebook and pen. My hunt takes me to the home office, which was down another hall branching off the living room foyer and to the right. The door silently swings open as I step inside and move to the desk. On the top of the table is a memo pad and a few pens are contained in a holder off to the side. 

Stooping, I scribble an autograph down before tearing off the paper and placing the pen back in the cup. Leaning up, a flash of bright pink catches my eye, and I see the corner of a book peeking out from behind a decorative vase on the shelves behind the desk. 

Checking over my shoulder in case anyone is coming, I walk to the shelf and move the vase to the side. A chuckle blooms in my throat as I touch the cover of the novel and count two more sitting under it. A Moment in March, The Time Before You, The Player's Guide to Love. They're the romance novels I let Robin borrow when he first came to my apartment. 

Lifting the top one up, I notice there's a bookmark in it and check where he's at. Without thinking I laugh out loud, flipping through the pages. There are little sticky notes stuck to the margins where he's made notes in the same scratchy handwriting that was once written on my banana all those months ago. I grin as I read a few of them. 

Note: Apply to character. Good detail.

Why are they all "unbelievably" attractive? What's so hard to believe? 

So that's the one bed trope... should be interesting.

Note: wear "slutty sweatpants" for one bed with L. Compare results.  

Note: avoid "growling" anything. Forever.

Dear GOD. My eyes! 

This one has a little arrow drawn down to a second sticky note that reads:

Note: Leave this in here so Leah knows I judged her sordid tastes. 

Which has another arrow drawn down to a third note: 

p.s. Leah, if you are reading this, I am now educated in your ways. I will triumph in ownership of Lewd-Land at our next battle. Also, I'm not falling for the one bed-trope plot. You'll have to find more creative ways to seduce me. (Nice try though.)

-- Love, Lord of Lewd-Land.

I snort out loud when I read this and roll my eyes so hard my eyeballs strain. Turning to the desk, my hands seized a sticky note. In haste I scribble my reply:

Too late, baby... I've already ordered the rose petals. Can't wait to see those sweatpants <3. Long live The Queen. 

--Leah

Then I attached it to the same page making sure it stuck out for him to see. 

The book-marked page where he left off only has one note that reads: interesting tactic. Test on L and compare. 

This one was clearly serious in intention, and I had to give it to him for even considering it. However, only one of us would leave that situation embarrassed and I knew it wouldn't be me. 

"Oh," A quiet gasp has me turning around so fast that I nearly knocked over the vase. 

Catching it in my hands with the book still clamped between my fingers, I look to find Delynn Crawley standing in the doorway. It feels like my eyes are going to bug out of my head when I realize the implications of her being here, and the trouble it might cause. But my head makes me hesitate, jumping immediately to thought. 

If Robin betrayed her, why would she come to his party? 

Meanwhile, her eyes dropped to the book in my hand, then to the vase, and finally returned to scan my face. Her voice is soft, and eerily familiar from hearing it on TV so many times, "Sorry. I just-- I didn't realize someone would be in here." 

"No, that's okay! I was just about to leave." I reassured her, placing the vase back on the shelf and tucking the book behind it. That is until I catch her eyes watching me stash it. Then I take up the pile in my arms and smile sheepishly at her. "I have a bad habit of reading at parties." 

She doesn't quite believe it. I can tell when her dark eyes squint just the slightest and her arms fold loosely across her chest. Delynn nods as if she gets it anyway. Her dress, a striking blue midi that compliments her olive skin, curves at her midriff as she leans against the doorway.

Swiping the autograph off the desk, I wave it at her like it's a bus ticket and she's the driver, and declare animatedly, "Can't forget my bookmark!" 

She tilts her head as I move to pass by her. Her tawny hair is curled to perfection, draping over her shoulder. It frames her face, which is beyond stunning, and the dainty diamond earring she's wearing sways as she shifts. 

Trying to look inconspicuous, I held the books in one hand against my hip, turning the covers out of sight. Delynn steps sideways into the office, allowing me access to the doorway. I passed by her but lingered in the hallway when she spoke. Her eyes are almost feline in shape, as they scrutinize my features. "Have we met before?" 

"I don't think so. I'm new to this circle." I stretch out my free hand, hoping she'll acknowledge my attempt at friendship. It's a relief when she relaxes a bit at the sight of my open palm. Delynn smiles a bit and steps forward to take it as I say, "I'm--" 

"Leah," Robin's voice makes me freeze and all the tension floods back into the atmosphere as I hear him jog down the hall. "Hey, Caleb's here and I thought of plan--" 

Turning to the side, I look at Robin, simultaneously revealing Delynn. My hand hovers dead in the air before slowly dropping back to my side. Robin stops in his tracks. Delynn flushes up to hear ears. Only Robin takes a step back, eyes wide. 

"Oh." 

"Hi." Delynn says, but it's so quiet it may as well be a whisper.

Robin swallows hard, his eyes darting toward me before looking back at her, "Um...Hey." 

Shaking off his surprise, he manages a few steps forward. I expect him to shake her hand, or embrace her, but Robin halts when he reaches my side. Delynn looks at the floor where his feet stopped, as if she can see the invisible line blocking him from stepping closer to her. 

Our eyes lock and he skims over me as if expecting there to be damage. When he sees the books in my hand, his brows dip together, then he arches one at me. I frown questioningly before Robin pushes his gaze back to Delynn. She fidgets a little, shifting in place, and I realize for the first time that she's holding a small box in her other hand. 

Delynn licks her bottom lip before raising her eyes from the floor, and holding it out to him, "Happy birthday." 

A gift?  I try not to show any emotion, but it's difficult not to be surprised.  What kind of situation is this? What the hell happened between these two? 

For the first time I take a different aspect of Maizy's story into account: the part where they were involved. The shift in perspective is enough to make a chill race through my body. She was leaving the gift in there for him to find. 

My hand tightens on the books, and I thank myself for not putting them back in the office. No doubt she thought I was doing the same thing and would have read through the notes Robin left. The one I left.  Joke or not, the truth would have been inconsequential to the evidence. Anyone could have walked in and seen them... we could have been exposed before we knew it. 

Robin doesn't move to take the box, instead he shuffles back and looks at me, "Like I said, Caleb's here so..." His eyes flashed to Delynn briefly before he scratched the back of his neck and said to the floor, "I might need some help." 

My heart breaks for her, the gift in her hand still suspended between them, and I give Robin a pleading look. Don't be unkind.  I didn't know what happened between them, but to see him blatantly reject her in front of someone she didn't know, was too cruel. Even if he did have a good reason. 

He tilts his head at me, giving it a stern shake to say he won't take it, but I insist. He swallows tightly. Robin pivots back to Delynn and accepts the gift, "Thank you." 

She looks relieved, but it's only for an instant. Robin shoves the gift into his pocket and her eyes pass over him once before they sink back to the floor. Delynn folds her hands together, fingers twisting as she picks at her nails. 

My shoulders drop, and I try not to glance at Robin, who has a similar habit when nervous. But my gaze finds him anyway, only to discover he is watching her do the same thing with a hurt expression. She looks up, catches it, and it's gone, as if completely wiped from his face. Robin glances once more at me and walks away. 

Her lips press firmly, and her eyebrows pinch into a saddened expression. She clears her throat, and mindlessly presses the back of her knuckles to cool the flush growing on her cheek. 

My heart slams into my chest, urging me to speak, "It was nice to meet you." 

Delynn offers a belittled smile, the kind that doesn't reach the eyes, and nods. With that I followed Robin back to the party. His strides are quick, as if he can't wait to get away from her, and I risk gazing back to watch Delynn slip into the office and shut the door. 

-----

Hi darling readers!!

I cannot believe it, but Research: Romance has over 800 reads!! So close to 1000!!! 

I am so excited I could just cry :,) Thank you so much for all the support! 

Looks like we finally get to meet Delynn Crawley... What do we think?? So much drama and tension for such a little moment between them. If I was Leah I would be dying of curiosity, but idk about the complications it would cause. Besides... our girl is about to have bigger problems hahah!

I was thinking, have any of you ever actually done a fake dating trope or something like it?? I would be so stressed if I had to pull something like that off ahaha! If you have ever done or accidentally had one of these tropes happen to you, I would love to hear the story. It would just make my day!  I'll rack my brain and see if I can recall a time when something like that has happened to me. 

Please vote, comment, and share if you are enjoying and I'll see you soon :)

with love, 

e.g.