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Duffy jerked in her seat with a gasp. I had to physically pull her down by the shoulder before she hit the ceiling.
“What? Who told you that?” she asked in a high-pitched voice.
“Heard it in a barre class.”
“Doubt anyone would put up with that woman unless he’s legally obligated to,” I chipped in.
“Sotrue.” Clone Woman One nodded.
“Ugh, Duffy, you have the best taste in men.” Clone Woman Two sighed.
“Okay then.” Clone Man One glanced at his watch. “Guess it’s time to wrap it up. I have a six a.m. spin class tomorrow.”
“With Julio?” Clone Woman Two cooed.
“Yes!” He clapped. “He is doing a new Madonna special.”
And this, ladies and gentlemen, was why I didn’t stick around in New York City more than absolutely necessary. The amount of brain cells I lost just by sitting here listening to privileged middle-class, overpaid pretenders was too damn high.
“Duffy, it wassogood to see you.” They all stood up, collecting their jackets and purses. “Thanks so much for dinner. And it goes without saying—if you ever need anything, a recommendation letter, a reference, a good word, all you have to do is ask.”
Poppins and I were left there with these words of encouragement.Andthe check.
Clone Woman Two also slid her number into my hand. According to my nonbinding arrangement with Duffy, I could call her. Butsomewhere in the back of my head, I’d already decided not to mess with anyone affiliated with my fake fiancée. She only had, what, three, four people in her life? It wasn’t much of a sacrifice, and she didn’t deserve to have another crappy partner. Even if it was fake between us.
Plus, somewhere in the back, back,backof my head, all the way in the storage room, I still thought there was a minor chance of us bumping uglies at some point, and messing around with an ex-colleague of hers would kill that chance with a blazing fire.
“These are the people who give us the news?” I shot her a sidelong glance. “I wouldn’t touch them with a bag of Fritos.”
She closed her eyes and groaned. “I can’t believe they left me with the check.”
“I can. They’re assholes.”
“You knew it was a bad idea, didn’t you?” She sucked in a breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Experience breeds wisdom, Poppins.” I shrugged indifferently. “Scars are great reminders to avoid future mistakes.”
“Do you think they know about you and Gretchen?” she asked as she flagged the waitress for the bill.
“Nah.” I stood up, tapping my front pocket and stretching with a yawn. “They’d have interrogated us to death. Be right back, doodie calls.”
“You did not just say that.” She speared me with a wrathful glare. “‘Doodie calls.’”
“Problem?” I curved an eyebrow.
“Sometimes I think you insist on aggravating me.”
“You really think highly of yourself, don’t you, my secretly working-class fiancée?”
I slipped away to take care of the check. Then, I returned, calmly tugged my fiancée by the arm, and whispered in her ear, “How fast can you run on these heels?”
“Why?” Her back stiffened.
“We’re dining and dashing.”
“No, we’re n—”
But then I started running, and she had no choice but to follow me.
