The Real Deal

“I’ve already turned down Alpo’s request for me to give a full and thorough report on its new food that makes puppy coats extra soft. I’m sad because I was hoping it would make my hair even softer,” he says, raking a hand through his thick hair that I bet is already soft and silky. “But this seemed worth it.”

A laugh bursts forth from deep within my belly. “Yes, I believe it’s safe to say the food will be better than kibble, and you won’t have to spit it out.”

“Excellent,” he says, his voice low and rumbly. “My schedule is clear if you want to hire me.”

I’m dying to hire him. But I want to make sure I’ve crossed all my t’s. “You’ve done this before? You’ve played all sorts of pretend boyfriend roles?”

He nods, and rattles off a cast of characters from the boss to the best friend’s brother to the recently betrothed. “Everyone has a different need. So I try to meet them.”

“Quite a repertoire.”

“Xavier thought you’d want the bad boy.”

Claire rolls her eyes and squeezes my arm. “No one wants a bad boy more than this girl.”

“How bad do you want it?” Theo says.

“Um,” I say, but my voice goes dry.

He laughs lightly, catching his own innuendo. He shakes his head, amused. “Sorry if that came out dirty. How bad do you want me to play?”

“How bad can you be?” I lean closer, curious. I might also want to smell him. He smells like pine, and I never thought pine was sexy till now. It might be an aphrodisiac.

“Do you want me to go full asshole? Start fights, instigate shit?”

I furrow my brow. “What? Start fights?” Is he crazy? My family drives me nuts, but I don’t want someone to pummel them. I realize why he’s asking. I ordered this character from his menu.

“The ad. The à la carte options,” he says, reminding me.

I wave him off. “That’s not necessary. The ad just made me laugh. It was hilarious. That’s why I wanted to meet you. And, truth be told, my mom would probably enjoy it if you debated the most hot-button topics of the day. She loves that stuff.”

He nods, a serious look in his eyes, like he’s taking mental notes.

“But no,” I continue, “I don’t want you to be an asshole.”

Claire jumps in. “April is off the market, but her parents don’t seem to understand what that means. She’s the youngest of the family by far, so they all think they know what’s best for her. She’s far too sweet to say, ‘Mom, I never ever want to date the men you set me up with.’”

I give her a look. “That’s not true.”

Claire laughs. “You are sweet, but so is candy, so don’t take it as an insult.”

“What do you mean ‘off the market,’ though? If you’ve got a boyfriend already, we don’t need to go any further,” Theo says, his meaning clear—he’s ready to walk if I’m a cheater, even a pretend one.

“Oh, God no,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Claire just means I’m devotedly single, on account of being supremely disappointed in the dating scene, and suffering from a complete lack of interest in participating in yet another date or relationship that belly flops.”

“You just need to be convincingly into April, to ward them off,” Claire says.

“That shouldn’t be hard.” Theo’s voice drips with innuendo as he shoots me the most smoldering look. “Clearly, I’ve got it bad for my woman.”

A wave of goose bumps slides over my skin.

His voice shifts to a more straightforward tone. “Like that?”

I blink. I think Claire does, too.

“I’m a professional,” he adds. “I can do the job you’re hiring me for. And as I said in the ad, I have a strict platonic policy. But I might have to put an arm around you at some point. Or hold your hand. And I want it to feel natural, so everyone knows you’re off-limits. So they know you belong to me.”

His voice has gone smoky again, letting me know he’s in character. He’s playing the role of mine.

I slip into my part. I bump my shoulder against his. Hello, firm wall of shoulder. “Because I’m taken.”

“You are absolutely taken.” The corner of his lips quirk up.

“And you will be my—” I slow, roam my eyes up and down this man. “—my inked, scruffed ex-con. Though we’ll keep that last part between you and me.”

I say that like the joke that it is. Because it’s a perfect ruse. He’s the polar opposite of interest rates and hardware stores. The character he’s concocted for me is a little crazy, maybe even a little wild, even if I don’t want him to play up the dangerous parts with my parents.

“Who banged you in the bathroom of the bar when my shift ended,” he says, reminding me of our origin story, the naughty tale of a body painter in New York who needs a buffer in Connecticut.

“Yes. The bartender with the intense eyes. That’s all I want.”

“Then that’s all you’ll get.”

And it’s odd, but a part of me is a bit sad that I won’t get more.





Chapter Six

Theo

Switching shifts is easy. Two hours later, I’m in the clear for a five-day fiesta of faking it. But pretending to dig April will not be problem at all.

The bigger issue, though, is the heated debate I’m engaged in with Jared. “Why does everyone pick invisibility?”

“Easy,” he says in his high-pitched voice—it’s high because he hasn’t hit puberty yet. Ah, good times coming this thirteen-year-old’s way any day now. “It means you can sneak into a store and grab some candy or—”

“Dude. Why do you want a superpower that will let you steal?”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he says as we walk toward our building.

“I already know your answer is unacceptable.”

“You could also get out of math tests if you were invisible. Like the one I have next week,” Jared points out, flicking his wrist back and forth, back and forth, practicing his Frisbee throw. I just schooled this seventh grader in Frisbee in the park. He asked to learn. No one ever learns if you go easy on them.

“Let me get this straight: You want a superpower to skip fractions and steal M&M’s?” I shake my head, amused. “I need to teach you to think bigger, my man.”

“Like what? Mind-reading?”

I shudder. “There was a time I might have wanted that. But not anymore. No way do you want to know the cesspool of thoughts that humanity keeps up here.” I tap the side of my head.

He furrows his brow. He might not yet be aware that thoughts are a cesspool. I move past mind-reading. “How about flying?” I stretch my arms high to the sky, like Superman, and purse my lips together to make the sound of a plane taking off. A long, low zooming buzz.

Jared smiles. “How do you do that?”

I smirk. “That’s the superpower you really want, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Funny noises, yeah. I’d make fart sounds when my math teacher walks around the classroom, so it sounds like he’s doing it.” Then he arches a blond eyebrow. “Flying is what you’d pick?”

“What’s cooler than flying?”

“Superstrength is cooler. That’s a good one.”

“Too late. You already picked funny noises. Now you can make your teacher flatulent. Meanwhile, I’ll fly to your school and make sure you don’t miss the math test next week.”

“You won’t be able to see me, since I’m invisible,” he says, laughing as we reach the stoop of our building at the edge of Brooklyn.

“Curses,” I mutter like a cartoon villain. “Is your mom home from work yet?”

Jared grabs his cell phone from his pocket and clicks to his texts. He shows me one from his mother. “Home in twenty minutes.”

I clap his shoulder. “I need to pack for my trip.”

“Can we ride your motorcycle next time?”

I laugh, thinking of the snarling leopard bike I’ve had since I finished college. Last year, when I played the role of the hometown boyfriend for a sweet, shy lady at her office Christmas party, she paid me in parking space rentals. It was worth it. Her brother owns a motorcycle parking lot, so she scored a deal from him and passed it on to me in place of my fee. I use the bike around the city now and then, but it’s good to have in case I ever need to just … take off.

I drop a hand to Jared’s shoulder again and squeeze. “You know you can’t ride the leopard.”

He adopts a too-big smile. “But I can keep asking.”

“You do your homework till your mom gets home, okay?”