Page 31 of Faking It (and falling in love)
“Seconded,” said Philippa.
“Thirded,” said Chrissie, raising her hand.
“Well thank you, both, for listening to my gay panic. I appreciate it,” said Philippa. “And now, I really must go home. Think of me this weekend coming down from my first ever kiss with a woman and trying to deal with my adolescent hormones.”
“Thoughts and prayers,” said Nisha.
“Take care,” said Chrissie.
Philippa walked the short distance home. Thankfully, the rain had finally stopped. She replayed the kiss in her head three more times before she reached her front door. Was this what her straight friends had felt like when they kissed boys while they were at school? No wonder they’d all seemed to go a bit mad when they had a crush. The pieces were falling into place.
Saturday morning dawned, and Philippa found herself at her own kitchen table this time, going through the presentation for Gerry. It was only a few days away, and while she tried not to work at weekends, she knew this was something she had to get right for the whole company.
Her phone pinged with a text. She closed her laptop and glanced at the display. It was from Alex. She had wondered how long it would be before she heard from her pretend/real/pretend love interest. And even though she knew this was going nowhere, she could feel her heart pounding at the sight of Alex’s name.
Her head knew this couldn’t work. Why wouldn’t her body understand?
“Hey, Phil. Sorry again about last night. Are you ok? Let me know if you wanna talk x”
Philippa didn’t want to text straight back like a lost puppy. So she did the next best thing – obsessed over how to respond for the next hour.
Like a lost puppy.
As part of that obsession, she checked in on TikTok to see how the posts Sienna had been creating were doing. Surprisingly, they seemed to be gaining some traction. Sienna had explained that the secret was regular posting, and she certainly had been busy. Philippa’s impression of Sienna as a capable member of staff on the up only increased.
Scrolling through the social media platform reminded Philippa of Gerry and the contract. Was there something theycould do in this area, something creative, that would set Samfire and Partners apart from the pack? She hurriedly emailed Sienna, careful to schedule the message so it wouldn’t hit Sienna’s inbox until the other woman arrived back in the office at eight on Monday morning.
Philippa carried on scrolling. There was a reason people called it doom scrolling, she supposed, but she was fascinated by how quickly the algorithm picked up the sort of videos she was interested in, and those she wasn’t. Within ten minutes, Philippa’s videos were dominated by queer women discussing their experiences of coming out later in life. Somehow, thanks to technology and her innate interest, Philippa had found her people – or at least, people she shared a major life event with. The films were a mixture of women giving heartfelt testimony, those who shared funny stories about coming out to their children, sweet stories about their families’ acceptance, and incredulity that they’d never realised it sooner.
“I’m fine,” texted Philippa to Alex. “Just discovering the joys of TikTok! I don’t think we need to talk. But thank you for offering x” She pressed send. Then she reread the message. Perhaps it would come across as cold. All she’d intended to say was that it was all ok. That she was disappointed and sad that Alex didn’t want a relationship, but that it would work out. She screwed up her face, and then a thought occurred to her.
She typed: “Actually, you might be able to help me with a work thing. You don’t have any time for a coffee on Monday morning, do you?”
Alex texted back immediately. “Sure. I’m all yours. Tell me where and when. Have a good weekend x”
A moment later, another text came through.
“p.s. glad you’re ok, bab”
Philippa smiled. Yes, things would be ok. She would get over her crush and move on and Alex would still be her friend. Shedecided to ignore the part of her heart that still felt a little bruised. She was a big girl, after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dottie was struggling at the kitchen table with her maths homework. “Let me help,” said Philippa, moving round the table to sit next to her daughter.
“Well, ok,” said Dottie, without lifting her head from the page she was focusing on. “But I warn you, this is incredibly difficult. Even the teacher says so.”
“Goodness me,” said Philippa, stifling a smile, “I consider myself warned.” She put her reading glasses on. “Hmm, yes. Very difficult. I think this might be the hardest homework you’ve had yet.”
“Exactamundo,” agreed Dottie, throwing her hands in the air.
“But look, if you line those numbers up over there, and carry the four, I think you may be able to solve this one,” said Philippa, gently pointing at one of the sums.
Dottie pressed her lips together, looking doubtful, but she did as Philippa suggested. “Oh!” exclaimed the girl. “You are correct!”
“Would you look at that,” said Philippa. “Well done, you!”
“Well done you, too. You’re a genius!” said Dottie. Philippa grinned. She knew that the days of Dottie being impressed by her were numbered, so she made the most of moments like this.
