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Helooks a little embarrassed. “Youwouldn’t have to do anything… you didn’t want to.Itwould be fake.Myteam thinks it would be a good idea.Thiswhole elevator girl thing is getting a lot of attention.Theywant to capitalize on the good buzz.Remember,Itold youIwas up for that big role?Andfor the first time in a long time,Ididn’t know ifIwas going to get it?”
Iremember.Ofcourse,Ido.Iremember everything he told me in that elevator.
“So, you don’t actually want to date me?”
“Youdon’t have to sound so damn relieved by the idea,”Jacksonmutters. “Itwould just bePR.Ithappens more than you think in this town.Wewould only have to be seen a few times together.Likeme coming to your house tonight.Orwe go for dinner.Youcome to my place.Thatkind of thing.Andwe just let the tabloids think what we already know they want to think.”
“Andwhat exactly is it they want to think?”Iask him.
LikeIdon’t already know.AsifIhaven’t read countless threads, subreddits, and memes obsessed with the idea ofJacksonWatersfalling for anormalgirl.Anormalgirl who looks like me.A‘real’ woman.Likemy soft flesh and curves make me any more real than someone who is naturally skinny.
“Theylike the idea of the elevator being our meet cute-”
“Youknow what a meet cute is?”Iask suspiciously, interrupting him.
Meetcutes are my favorite part of the smutty booksIlike to read, well other than the smutty scenes themselves.Avibrator and a one-handed read can fix a whole world of stress.
“I’man actor.Idid my share of rom coms back in the day, andIknow my way around a meet cute.”
“Andyou want to pretend that you’re in a relationship with me?Pretendthat you love me?Pretendthat you want me?”Myhead is spinning with all the possibilities.IfIcould have won a billion dollars by guessing whyJacksoncame here tonight,Iwouldn’t have guessed this. “You’regoing to put your arm around me.Holdmy hand?Kissme?”
“Weonly have to do whatever you’re comfortable with.Andwhatever that is,I’llmake it work.I’man actor, after all.”
Right.He’san actor.So, pretending he’s in love with me is no big deal for him.
“Idon’t get how this helps you get a role.”
Jacksonshrugs. “Youmight not know this, butIdon’t exactly have the best dating track record.Andone of the studio’s concerns is thatI’mnot very family friendly.”
Ofcourse,Iknow this.Anyonewho’s been in a grocery store check-out line in the last ten years or has an internet connection knows aboutJackson’ssordid history of brief relationships with actresses and models, every single one even thinner and more beautiful than the last. “Howdoes pretending to be in a relationship with a random woman you met in an elevator and then embarrassed on nationalTVmake you more family friendly?Seemsto me like it would do the opposite.”
“Ithink it’s the romance of it all.Howwe met.”Jacksonshifts on his feet again.Hedoes that when he has to say something uncomfortable.Ididn’t notice that in the elevator because we were sitting down.Andother than the incident-that-shall-not-be-named, somehow inside the four walls of that elevator, there was nothing to be uncomfortable about.Therewas no bullshit.Wewere just two strangers.Nota movie star and a normal girl.Justtwo people.Nothingmore, nothing less.
“Andmy team thinks the fact that you’re not in the business would be good for me.Makeme look good.”
“Right.JacksonWatersis dating someone who isn’t rich and famous.Moviestars, they’re just like us!”Imutter under my breath.Thishas gone on long enough.I’veentertainedJacksonand his nonsense for far too long.Butone unanswered question pulls at me. “Howwas this a win-win?AmIjust getting the gift of your presence?Orwas there somethingIactually might want in there?”
Jackson’slips quirk at the corners into a faint smile. “Yougetme.Mypresence, my attention, and my fame.Hell,I’llgive you whatever else you want, too.Andwe were thinking two-fifty to compensate you for your time.”
“Two-hundred-and-fifty-dollars?”Wow, that tells me exactly whatJacksonthinks of my time.
“Thousanddollars.”
“Twothousand dollars?”Imean, it’s better than two-hundred-and-fifty dollars.Butit’s barely a drop in the bucket of whatIneed to get a commercial baking space, much less a real bakery with a cafe storefront and enough room for a wholesale baking space in the back.
“Two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars?Toget me to pretend to like you?”Ilet a long whistle out between my lips. “Youmust be completely shit to be around.”
ButevenIdon’t believe that, not unless the entire six hours in the elevator was an act.Personally,Idon’t think he’s a good enough actor to keep it going for that long.
“That’swhy you’d have to sign anNDA.”
Anon-disclosure agreement.Youdon’t have to live inL.A. for more than fifteen minutes before someone is talking about theNDAthey had to sign for something or other.I’vehad to sign countless ones for special orders and deliveries.
“Howlong wouldIhave to do this for?”AmIactually considering this?Asif the photographers outside my house right now aren’t bad enough?Thiswill all get worse ifIstop being somerandoJacksonWatersgot stuck with in an elevator that he hinted he might be dating and become his actual girlfriend.Or, at least, let the world thinkI’mhis actual girlfriend.Becauseeven though there won’t be anything real about this,I’llbe #elevatorgirl forever.Andthe last thingIwant is to be #elevatorgirl forever.Thiswill never go away.
Itwas never going to go away though, an annoying know-it-all voice in my head tells me.Theinternet’s forever.Oncemy name got out, for the rest of my life,Iwas always going to be #elevatorgirl.
