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“It's got to be you,” she continues. “I just… I can’t think of anybody else that is even in the league. You’re perfect. Only you, Bella. You know what I mean?”
“Not really?”
I feel my face getting hot. Disappointment is sloshing through me, filling me like a sloppily poured beverage. Something sour. Something served at the wrong temperature.
She sees it too. I see her shoulders slump a little bit and she softens. She stands up and comes around to the front of her desk, dropping into the chair next to me and slapping me lightly on the knee.
“You’re sweet,” she begins again, more gently.
“What are you talking about? You want me to go out on a date because I’m sweet?”
She nods, waiting for me to get the drift. What does sweetness have to do with —
“Wait a second,” I groan, putting it together. “You want me to go on a date because I’m a… because…”
“Because you won’t fuck him, yes,” she nods emphatically.
“Jesus, Hannah. That’s a little cynical.”
Hearing her say fuck especially in this context puts me on edge. I may be a virgin, but I have a pretty open way of speaking compared to her. It’s my “trucker mouth,” as my grandma used to say. But if she’s talking like this, she must be unusually frustrated. Still my virginity should be off-limits. She doesn’t own me.
“Well, that’s what I need,” she declares as she stands and walks back to the other side of her desk, then sits heavily in her chair. “Everyone else would be… you know. Taken in by their charms. They have a reputation as Lotharios, as master seducers, and frankly, they’ve earned every bit of it.”
“I really don’t like this,” I admit uneasily. “My sexual status is not a topic I feel particularly comfortable talking about, let alone using as a… a… I don’t even know what. A shield, I guess.” I shift in my chair. “Or a gambit.”
“So don’t talk about it. Just be about it.”
Her stare is direct, unwavering. She’s not negotiating with me. She’s commanding me, just like she commanded me to write all those lipstick comparisons and selfie photo tips.
“I don’t want to.” Why do I sound like a petulant child?
“It won't really be so bad,” she sighs. “It's just a date. A few dates. And then write about it, like you do. The way only you can.”
“But why?” I ask her in a drawn-out wail.
I don't want to sound like I'm whining, but I'm totally whining. I like being single. I like it that my only pet is my laptop. The last time there was a man in my life… it didn't end well. No man equals no bad endings. It’s as simple as that. And just because I came to that conclusion before I lost my virginity is just incidental.
“Bella, the merger is… not going spectacularly well. Just to be honest.”
She grits her teeth. They line up together in perfect rows. Her eyes are hooded and dark, not their typical cornflower blue. I can tell that putting this together and admitting it to me causes her some discomfort.
Good. It's causing me discomfort too.
“Without the merger, we’re in trouble. As you know, the whole publishing industry is in turmoil. We need to merge to stay strong, to stay viable. If not…”
Her voice trails off. I think I know what was at the end of that sentence. If we don't merge, we go under. Riordan Publishing goes belly up. A few thousand people lose their jobs, just like that, in an industry where getting a new job is practically impossible at the moment.
“And the key to this merger is a date, somehow? There has got to be more to the story, Hannah,” I plead. “Just explain the angle to me. Okay? You know I would do anything I could for you.”
She winks at me, smiling grimly. “Because we’re sisters."
“My sister from another mister,” I echo solemnly.
“So you’ll do it? It won't be so bad, I promise.”
I shrug helplessly. What am I going to say?
“Of course I'll do it. Who’s my new boyfriend?”
