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“I see,” I say, because I do. She had a hunger for a career, for advancement, and for things bigger than the country club social ladder.
“I loved my job,” she says, “and I think I’m good at it. It took me years and a degree to get to where I am, and to think I would give all that up? He wasn’t planning on giving up his golf or squash or ski trips with his friends, or his job, for that matter, even if he never liked it that much.”
Fuck,I think. I’m in so much deeper than I thought. Miles deep, with no way out, because every word she says rings true for me as well.
“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to get so heated.”
“It’s a topic worth getting heated about.”
“He’s not,” she says, and takes a big bite of her ramen. “Don’t think I won’t ask you about your past relationship some day.”
I lean back in the chair with a groan. “Must you?”
“Yes,” she says. “That’s how you and I work. We’re strictly quid-pro-quo.”
“I can think of a lot more fun things to apply that to.”
Her eyes flick to mine. The innuendo had just slipped out, and it hangs in the air between us. “Maybe so…,” she says, “but that doesn’t get you out of this.”
“Maybe not today,” I say. “But I’ll answer your questions eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Yes. Let’s put a pin in that topic.”
Her eyebrows rise. “How many business negotiations have you been in where you’ve used exactly those words?”
I grin. “A few.”
“Fine,eventually. But I have an excellent memory.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“You know,” she says, raising her chopsticks high, “you’re more interesting than I think you give yourself credit for. I can’t think of a better man to fake date.”
I snort. “Well, that’s a compliment I’ve never gotten before.”
That makes her laugh, and fuck, I should say it now. That our mutually beneficial fake dating needs to come to an end. It’s run its course, and I can’t have these situations happen again and again. The temptation is too much.
And yet the words won’t come.
When we’re done, she grabs my bowl and hers, walking to the sink. My eyes track the short skirt and her bobbing ponytail, the graceful lines and the fierceness that radiates from her.
I shift my focus to the clock on the wall instead. The second hand ticks with steady, unyielding movements.
Time stops for no one.
“I should leave,” I say.
She takes a deep breath. “There’s something I’d like to say first, though, if that’s all right.”
“Yes?”
“I know you said never to apologize for kissing you, and you also said that you always mean what you say. But I feel like I should apologize, anyway. I need to make sure that I haven’t… broken anything, or messed up what we have going on here, being pretend dates. Or worse, injured our professional relationship. I’m sorry, Isaac.”
She’s looking at me with caution and hope, the brilliantly blue eyes clear with honesty. I can’t remember the last time I was close with someone who spoke their thoughts and feelings this freely.
My hand clenches into a fist at my side. “I don’t think we should do it again, even if it’d help the pretence.”
