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If they see me in a serious relationship, they may grant me the right to my own money, thinking that I’m digging roots, sinking my feet into the ground, planting flowers—whatever metaphor exists for settling down.
This plan could be fool-proof or flawed, but at this point, I’m desperate.
Once the money is in my hands, it won’t matter what I do with my life.
I scrub a hand down my face and stretch my neck. My eyes catch Sage behind the counter as she prepares another coffee order.
No, Tristan.
I don’t even know her. Why would my brain even go there?
I need someone else. If only I could put out an ad online and not seem like a creep.
Single guy in his twenties seeking a fake girlfriend to con his parents. Generous compensation.
Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.
My eyes wander to Sage again. She did mention needing money.
“Are you okay there?” Sage interrupts my thoughts.
“What?”
“You keep staring at me.” Her brows pinch together.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Are you some kind of creep?”
“Of course not. I’m a normal guy.” I spread my hands out.
“I don’t know. You were looking at me with a scowl.” Her lips quirk.
“No scowl, just a rough day.”
“We all have those.” She nods.
“Yeah,” I breathe out.
With my coffee and quiche finished and my motivation to work through the documents I need to complete for the non-profit flushed down the drain, I stand and pack my things. I head toward my brother’s apartment to change my clothes.
Sometimes productivity looks like taking a break. Going for a run and being outdoors will help me clear my mind.
Exercising has always been an escape for me. When I was in high school, it kept me out of the house and distracted me from my parents’ demands.
Back then, I could afford a gym membership. After leaving Hartville, there was no point in paying for a gym since I was moving from city to city. Although volunteering did keep me in shape with the type of labor I’d have to do—lots of heavy lifting when you’re building homes for families.
When I had free time, I would work out on my own as well. Many times, the kids would join me, and I’d teach them different exercises. Other times, it’d help me gain perspective or relax after a hard day of volunteering.
Right now, I need something to talk me out of making an offer that could be a disaster.
But it seemed like she needs money.
I shake away the devil on my shoulder trying to convince me and go for a run.
I don’t even know Sage. I can’t ask the new barista to pose as my fake girlfriend, even if chances are that my parents don’t know her and might buy the act.
For all I know, she’s afraid of losing her job because of illegal activities.
