“All I’m saying is that, given the society in which we live, which prioritizes fame and wealth and makes that desirable, being born in that perfect Punnett square of life means you can get whoever you want.”
“Why do you talk like this is a competition? I don’t want to get anyone. I like you, Gracie Reed. I like the Gracie who stood up for Fangli and made sure she got help when the rest of us were tiptoeing around it. I like the woman who is obsessed with time management techniques and whose towels fall off on a recurring basis.”
My face heats. “I was hoping you’d forget that happened.”
He snorts. “Me be able to forget you standing there with no towel? Never.”
“It was an accident.”
“That’s what made it great.” He smiles. “That’s the woman I want, the one who picks up the towel like it’s no big deal and doesn’t fuss about it. I want the one who, when asked to take part in the most idiotic plan I’d ever heard, decides to give it a go because she has enough confidence to pull off being Wei Fangli.”
No one has ever described me as confident but hearing it from Sam makes me realize maybe I am more than I thought. I mull this over as I try to tamp down the fireworks going off in my chest. “This is a short-term contract,” I say. “I’m going to be out of your life in a month.”
“A lot can happen in a month.” He moves back. “Gracie, you have no idea of the risks I take to be with you. Going for walks? Visiting your mom?”
“Those are not high-stakes activities. Lots of people walk around.”
“I am not lots of people. I know this plays into your need to see me as shallow and egotistical but my image is important. I’m cautious.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Making out on a balcony when anyone could have come around the corner?”
“This is exactly what I mean. You make me…” He throws himself back in the seat and runs his hands through his hair. “It’s like everything I thought was serious becomes less so when you’re around.”
“Am I offended at that? I think I might be.”
“I’m saying, obviously poorly, that you give me perspective. I’m grateful. I like it.” He shrugs, looking at the roof. “I like you.”
I want to quiz him on this a bit. Like as in the way I like hot showers? Like as in appreciates my company? Or, he like likes me? But I chicken out because I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer. It’s an emotional roller coaster of a night, to be frank, and part of me just wants to put off all talk of feelings until tomorrow.
Sam straightens up and looks at me, hands pressed flat against the seat. “Gracie, I’ve never forced a moment. I’m going to sit here. What happens next is up to you.”
He doesn’t even have time to finish before I’m on him. His hands come up to catch me around the waist, turning us to lean against the back of the seats. Kissing Sam is like nothing I’ve experienced. When Riley kissed me, it was always as if it was preparation for the main event. Sam kisses me as if it’s the destination, not the journey. He’s teasing, layering tiny kisses on the corners of my mouth before he captures my lower lip with his. Then he lets me go.
“Gracie?”
“Yes?” I give my head a shake to get my brain back in order. “What’s wrong?”
“You seem a little… Ahh.” He wriggles and I slowly grasp that I’ve been stiff-arming his shoulders.
“Sorry.” This time, he lets me take the lead and I can feel how his mouth melts under mine. Releasing his shoulders, I card my fingers through his hair and he groans against me. “Keep doing that,” he says.
A minute later, we push apart and he grins. “By the way, you looked to the left again,” he says.
“Should we stop?”
He runs his hand over my leg. “No, I think maybe we should practice.”
We do for the rest of the drive.
***
I don’t have sex with Sam, but only because I’m not that spontaneous and I want to shave above my knees first. Not even passion can get past my mental gatekeeper, the Dread Lady Overthinker.
The moment we arrive at the hotel, I rearrange my wig so we look like we’ve done nothing in the car but chat platonically and check our phones. My lipstick continues to be tonight’s real MVP, and I don’t need to touch it up at all.
Conscious of the security cameras, we don’t make out in the elevator, although Sam’s hair is disheveled and his lips are even fuller from kissing in the car. He leaves me chastely outside my suite, where I manage to lock the door and take a single step before I sink down on the wooden floor and curl up in a rictus of unbelieving happiness.
Which immediately turns to total terror. What have I done? We had a good thing going, a collegial thing, and I’ve blown that right out the window. What if he regrets this in the morning and it’s weird? What if Fangli is mad? What if I turn into a jealous shrew of a woman, furious this has to be kept secret from the world?
What if I get hurt? I haven’t been with a man since Riley. I should have at least taken a ride on the merry-go-round before I buckled in for the roller coaster.
There’s no one I can talk to. Fangli is asleep and so is Anjali. I don’t know what to say because I don’t know how I feel, exactly. It’s almost like the first time I had sex, where I wanted to tell everyone and also hug the secret to myself to savor it.
Too wired to do anything as banal as sleep, I putter around my suite tidying and thinking. Fretting. Sam put Todd out of my mind but now that I’m alone, I’m worried about what he’s going to do. My severance from work is safe but what if he comes looking for me? What if he tries to contact me or threaten us? He’s vindictive; I know that from how he treated people at work, how he treated me. I hate that the amount of real estate he should take up in my head should be the size of a hovel, a subcloset, but instead he’s living rent-free in a sprawling mansion.
A knock comes at the connecting door that leads to Fangli’s room. “Are you awake?” she asks through the door.
I open it. “Yeah.”
“I can’t sleep and I saw the light under your door.” Fangli rubs her eyes. “Can I come in for a bit?”
“Let’s sit on the balcony.” It would be nice to have the company and take my mind off worrying about Todd. But now that there’s another human near me, I’m almost bursting with my Sam news. That gets diverted almost immediately when Fangli touches my hand.
“You were the one who had Sam make me agree to talk to someone,” she says. “Thank you.”
“The decision was yours,” I say. “I think you were ready.”
“Sam’s been trying to get me help for years.” She takes her hand back, and the chair leg scratches as she shifts it along the concrete balcony. “I didn’t realize how heavily it weighed on him.”
“He was worried about you.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to admit it.” Fangli raises her face to watch the full moon flooding the sky. “I thought it would be death for my career. That’s what my manager said. He told me to cure myself because it wasn’t that bad.”
“Cure yourself?”
She glances at me out of the corner of her eye and gives me a small smile. “It didn’t work.”
“No, I imagine not. It didn’t for me.”
“You tried, too?”
“Failed the same way I wouldn’t be able to cure my own pneumonia or cancer through willpower.”
“I never thought of it like that.”
I think over what I want to say. “You said it would be bad for your career.”
“My manager said if it was known I had problems, no one would hire me. They would think I was unpredictable.”
“When was this?”
She thinks. “Five or six years ago.”
I make up my mind. “You’re more established now. Other people feel like us. It might help them to know they’re not alone, if you think that’s something you can do.”
The long silence makes me worry I’ve gone too far. Then her soft voice rises. “I think so, too. But I don’t have the courage.”