“That was not a denial.”
I opened a blank document. At the top, I typed:
PROPOSED BETTER TOGETHER PARTNERSHIP
Then I stopped. The idea was reckless. Public. Emotionally complicated. It was also practical enough to become dangerous. I began the first rule.
Chapter Six
The Proposal
Dani
Fake dating Amy Price for twelve weeks was not a recognized professional-development funding strategy. Savings, employer assistance, and fewer breakfast burritos all ranked higher. That did not make the idea bad. It made it innovative. By nine forty-five Saturday morning, I had organized the argument into financial benefit, training benefit, competitive benefit, and low emotional risk. The last category required creativity. I sat at a small table outside Bellweather Coffee, across from a mural of two enormous blue birds. Spring sunlight warmed the pavement, though the air still carried enough cold to justify the jacket I had forgotten at home.
Amy arrived at nine fifty-three. Seven minutes early. She wore dark jeans, a cream sweater, and the silver watch. Her hair was down, moving softly around her shoulders in the breeze. I had seen her in work clothes once, through the gym windows when she stopped by to drop off a form. This was different. Not gym Amy. Not spreadsheet-war Amy. Saturday Amy. My argument lost structural integrity. She stopped beside the table.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m observing.”
“You criticize me when I say that.”
“I’m learning from you.”
She sat.
“You said you had a proposal.”
“Coffee first.”
“This is a negotiation tactic.”
“It’s hospitality.”
“You already ordered.”
I had two cups on the table. Amy looked at the one in front of the empty chair.
“Black coffee with a small amount of oat milk,” she said.
“That’s yours.”
“You remembered.”
“You told me at the diner.”
“I was tired.”
“You were asleep on my shoulder. It affected my memory.”
Her cheeks colored. I slid the cup toward her. She checked the label, though I knew she was trying not to.
“Correct?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Good start.”
