Tackling Love's Playbook

Chapter 4

Frankie’s POV

After two days of being treated completely differently by all of my coworkers, I was ready to climb the top of Mount Everest and announce that I wasn’t actually dating Rhys Sutton. My social media accounts which I had only used previously to stalk people from my high school had now blown up to the point that I had had to uninstall all of them.

The internet was full of news about Rhys and I, bringing up absurd theories and wild speculations about us. One blog had even gone ahead to say that we were related. We had our own hashtag now, and I now had my fair share of strangers who hated me for daring to put my dirty paws on their beloved Rhys. Meanwhile, nothing had changed between Rhys and I.

I sent him funny memes, and he replied with a thumbs up. I sent him pictures of me throughout the day, and he sent back a blurry, horrible angled one once or twice. I had told him countless times that he was way too young and pretty not to be tech-savvy. The man hated texting and wouldn’t even think of using social media. Luckily for him, there was something out there willing to earn the big bucks by running social media accounts for him. Apart from both of us and our parents, nobody else knew that our relationship was a sham.

Of course, our moms had been disappointed to find out it was all a big lie. They had been trying to match us up for forever. I wondered at what point they’d finally realize that Rhys and I would never ever in a million years look at each other as anything more than best friends.

They had been holding out hope on us for far too long as far as I was concerned. There had been a time in high school where I had looked at him and seen what the other girls had been seeing. For that brief moment of madness, he hadn’t been the boy who I had literally grown up with, he had been the hot captain of the football team. Reality had come rushing in hard when I’d seen him making out with a college girl at a party. There was no way I had a chance in hell of competing with all the girls that were lined up for blocks waiting to get their own shot at him.

Thankfully, I had realized how stupid I was being before I had done something stupid like tell him.

I knew my place in Rhys’ life, and it was by his side as his totally Platonic best girl. It was okay. I wouldn’t want to be just another post on his headboard anyway.

My doorbell rang while I was blowing on my feet to dry the polish I had just applied on my toe nails. It was Saturday, and I was having my usual lazy day, lounging in my underwear, camped out in front of the TV and not thinking of both work and my brand new fake relationship. I groaned in annoyance and pulled an oversize t-shirt I had pilfered from Rhys over my head before walking to the front door. I peeped through the door hole and saw that it was a delivery guy. I frowned. I didn’t remember ordering anything.

“Hello.” I said as I pulled the door open.

“I think you have the wrong address.” He blinked.

“You’re not Francesca Law?” he asked. It was my turn to blink.

“I am, but-“ He thrust a large brown box at me along with a booklet.

“Sign please, miss Law.” I grabbed the pen and quickly scrawled my name across the indicated space before shutting my door. I considered the box suspiciously before curiosity got the better of me and I was ripping tape apart and pulling out a tissue. My phone began to buzz just as I pulled out the last bit of tissue wrapping. I crawled over to where it had been charging and grabbed it.

“Hello, boo boo bear.” Rhys sighed.

“Did you get the dress?”

“What dress?” I asked.

“I sent you an outfit for the event tonight.” He paused.

“You didn’t forget, did you?” I suddenly remembered him saying something about a team event on Saturday night and, alas, today was Saturday. “You didn’t even say anything else about it this whole time. I didn’t think it was still happening.”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“Uhm, don’t forget that we have plans for Saturday. You know how forgetful I get.” I chided him.

“There's no time to go to the salon and fix my hair. My nails are all chewed up too. I’ll look like a troll amidst all those splendid WAGS.”

“WAGS?” he asked.

“Christ, Rhys, do you live under a rock or something.”

“Or something.” I laughed.

“I called someone, he’s on his way to your place. He should be there any moment from now.” My face scrunched in confusion.

“You called who?” My doorbell rang.

“That should be him. He’ll help you get ready. I’ll come pick you up by seven.”

“Wait, what are…” the dial tone was my only reply. Someone needed to teach Rhys call etiquette urgently. I was tempted to call him back just to give him flack about hanging up on me in the middle of my sentence, but my doorbell ringing again stopped me. I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but It was most definitely not the tiny kid that stood at my door wearing a bright smile and carrying a backpack that looked like it weighed a ton.

“Hey, I’m Tiny Tony, and I’ll be helping you get ready for the evening.” I gave him an up and down look.

“Is it even legal to let you into my apartment, kid?” He put a hand on one hip and gave me an assessing look of his own.

“Is it even legal to carry around that mess on your head?” I smiled.

“Come on in.”