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“Devious. I love it.” Leaning back against the seat, I grinned. “We’ve got the meet-cute, our basic backstory, and I’ve got my character arc. What’s your favorite color?”
“Green.”
“Mine’s yellow. What about sports? Do you follow them at all?”
“No.”
“Me neither. How about hobbies? What do you do for fun?”
“Fun?” Vlado laughed from the front of the car. “Do you even remember what that is, Ev?”
“You do seem like a workaholic,” I agreed. “I like to shop and hang out with my friends. What about food? What do you like to eat? What’s your favorite restaurant?”
“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?”
“Because I need to know details if we’re going to fool people.” I rubbed my face. “Have you ever been in a relationship? You don’t seem to know a lot about them.”
“One.” His eyes clouded and his features hardened. “Let’s just say he wasn’t all that interested in the details of my life, only in my bank account.”
“Oof, that sucks. My ex-girlfriend—”
“Girlfriend?” he cut in sharply. “You’re not gay?”
“No.” I looked at him sidelong.
“I suppose sexuality really is fluid, especially when cash is involved,” he said bitterly.
“Woooow.” I faced him then, my throat closing around a bubble of hot anger. “You’re really going to pull that bullshit afteryouapproachedmeand offered me cash to play a part? Maybe you should have asked what my sexuality is if my being gay is so important to you.”
“I didn’t think I had to with the way you were undressing me with your eyes at the club,” he said. “How many other men have you duped with your gay-for-pay act?”
“Ev—” Vlado chimed from the front seat.
“Gay for pay? Do you have any idea how offensive that is?”
“Offensive? You kids think everything is offensive.”
“Donotpull that boomer shit on me, asswipe.”
“I’m a millennial.”
“Boomer is a state of mind. And for the record, I was undressing you with my eyes at the club because I’m bi.”
He snapped his mouth closed.
“Yeah. Bi, as inbisexual. The B in LGBTQIA. I like guysandgirls. I’ve been with both, and if that’s a problem, then let me out of the car now and find yourself another fake boytoy to get your daddy’s money.”
“I’m sorry.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“Can we forget it?”
I appreciated that he was quick to apologizebut… “No. We can move past it, but I’m not going to forget just because it’s convenient for you.” Crossing my arms, I stared out the window. The scenery flashed by in a blur of lights and shadowy shapes, all out of focus, the same as I felt.
“Fair enough.” He sighed. “I am sorry.”
“You said that. But the thing about apologies is that it’s not up to you if I accept it or not. It’s up to me.”
