“Well, Iris sucks at teaching people things. One of the few actual fights we’ve gotten in was when she tried to teach me acard game. And her only goal was to leave me with you, so I guess they’re a perfect match.”
“Yeah, I figured.” His eyes flick down and he trails a finger over the rim of his glass. “Am I really your celebrity crush? Not that I’m complaining. It’s a pretty nice ego boost after being cornered and told off for stalking you.”
Just when I was starting to think we’d spend the entire night talking about our friends, he had to ruin it.
“Iusedto like your articles.” I shrug casually.
“Used to?”
“It might be a while before I see your name on a byline and don’t die of shame.”
“So . . .” he starts slowly, drawing out the word. It’s like he’s composing and rewriting his thoughts between sentences, causing him to speak in a jerky stilted sort of rhythm. “Would being a part of one of those articles be completely off the table then? I sent an email a few hours ago asking, but there’s a chance you haven’t seen it.”
“No, I saw it, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Because you realized you were desperately in love with me?” The way he says it is less cocky and more like he thinks it’s ridiculous. Like it would be impossible for me to fall for someone like him. His eyes have gone wide and his bottom lip protrudes in a pout.
“Stop it.” I laugh despite myself, holding up my hand to shield my gaze from his pitiful expression.
A customer comes up to the bar, giving me a moment to collect my thoughts as I take their order and make their drink.
When I get back to Liam, I say, “I’m not good at talking about myself. It took me months to write my personal statement for my grad program. A thousand words to convince a school to let me pay them a shit ton of money and it took months.” And myessay was amazing—had to be since my grades were average at best even after relentless studying.
“Nice. What type of program? I did an MFA, so I get it on some level. But it was expensive as hell and I was lucky to have some assistance from my family.”
“Mental health counseling.”
“Is there a reason why?”
“Right now, I get to help people for a night or a few days, depending on what they need. I want to do more—I feel like I can do more if I have the chance to.” I’ve always had more fun solving other people’s problems than my own.
“So, you’re a liar.”
“How? I mean I am sometimes, but not right now.” I throw my hands up and nearly knock a glass into my ice.
“You are good at talking about yourself.”
“Oh.” I can’t help but smile. “Only because you tricked me.”
“I think that’s what they call being a good interviewer.” His hand dips back as he grabs his phone from his pocket. He taps at it then sets it on the counter with the recording app up. “Since you’re so vehemently opposed to having lunch with me, we could talk now.”
“And you’ll keep me anonymous?” Even though I plan on quitting the professional fake dating job I’ve invented for myself if I get into grad school, I don’t want to risk the reputations of my clients. It would be nice to keep the business going and have some extra cash, but the last thing I want to do is run into someone I went on a date with only to find out they’re a classmate.
“Of course,Juliet,” he says. "I'll make sure not to include your name or your pseudonym."
His playful tone sparks something rebellious in me and I reach over and tap the record button. “Then ask away.”
For the next two hours, I walk Liam through the basics of my process from background checks to picking the perfect outfit. Even as I’m hit with small rushes, the conversation never truly stops. In addition to using the recorder, he writes in a small spiral notebook with a tattered green cover that has seen better days. When he’s not writing, he taps his pen on the bar top or shoves it behind his ear only to forget momentarily where he put it.
The next shift comes in, and I’m cut for the day, but have to take care of my closing tasks before I go home. I say a quick goodbye to Liam as I restock liquor and soda.
I’m tugging on my puffer over my work clothes as I step out of the break room.
Iris is there, waiting for me. I’m sure the reason she didn’t ignore the employees only sign and join me has something to do with how her arm is slung low around Jasmine’s waist. “We’re going to head out back to Jas’s place. You two all good here?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
“Great, you can entertain Liam,” Jasmine says, flashing a wicked smile before she steers my roommate toward the exit, leaving Liam and I alone to fend for ourselves.
