Norman looked up, his pen still pressed to paper. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t have Logan wrapped around your little finger.”
Before shock could register on my face, Norman spun the paper to face me. “I’ve written in a few mandatory events and press opportunities. If you can make sure your boyfriend attends, and preferably a few of his teammates as well, the job is yours.”
My stomach crashed to the floor. My boyfriend?Shit.Norman Marcus thought Logan and I were dating. Was that the only reason he met with me today? He was doing some kind of sports exhibit and needed outreach and press?
Of course. Why wouldn’t he want to secure support from the Blizzard, but Logan was already here, wasn’t he? His mom was a family friend. She was being featured in the show, so why wouldn’t that be enough to nail him down?
I stared at the signature line on the contract. Mandatory events. Press opportunities. Make sure your boyfriend attends.I couldn’t speak for him, could I?Or did Logan know this was the deal? Had he forgotten to tell me that Norman thought we were an item?
Norman blew out a breath and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to run. If you need time to think about it?—”
“No.” I stepped forward, picking up the pen. My chest felt like a balloon about to pop. We would just figure this out. I’d tell Logan about this craziness and we’d laugh and then he’d explain to Marcus that we weren’t actually together?—
But then why would Norman need me?
Blood rushed in my ears as I signed on the dotted line. This was wrong. I shouldn’t be pretending I was with Logan. I shouldn’t be pretending I could commit to the dates Norman had written in.
But this might be my only chance. My only in.
As soon as I lifted the pen, Norman pulled the contract from the table top, then handed me a blank one. “For your reference. Hours start Monday if you’re available.”
Chapter
Six
After another fitful sleep,I stared at the contract copy Norman had given me. The apartment was quiet. Lindsey was already at work, and Jenna was doing something at the cosmetology school. She’d finished her hours, but she was doing some kind of extra certification. Maddie was still in Lethbridge with the guys, and Shar was in baby-land.
Today, it was just me and my lies. Mismatched socks, crooked hair clip, no good food in the fridge. It was what a dishonest, self-absorbed, corporate ladder climber deserved.
I stared at the dates until my eyes burned, then dragged my sorry butt out of bed and forced myself into the kitchen to at least find crackers and peanut butter. The idea of going to the grocery store only made me think of Logan, which catalyzed my shame spiral all over again.
Why did I sign it? Why didn’t I take a minute to at least talk with Logan?
I knew the answer, of course, but it wasn’t comforting. I was such a hypocrite. What had I said? Something about him being incapable of honesty? That was rich.
He was never going to let me hear the end of this. I had to tell him. There was no getting around that. And then he’d hold my potential career in his egotistical hands.
I pulled out a sleeve of Ritz and opened the jar of Kraft peanut butter, grabbing a knife. I might be a two-faced ambition junkie, but I wasn’t a dip-straight-from-the-jar kind of heathen.
I ate in silence until the crunch of my own teeth was too much to take, and snagged the phone from the wall. I needed to talk to someone, and since it couldn’t be Maddie or Shar, that left one option.
I dialled Tash’s number. No answer.
It was ten-thirty, which meant she was probably still sleeping. But she’d likely be up soon. I debated, but I didn’t take long to make a decision. In less than five minutes, I’d put away my squirrel snack and pulled on boots and a scarf.
Since Maddie moved out, Tash didn’t renew her lease. She was now living three blocks over with different roommates. Friends of Garrett’s. It was very convenient for my current predicament, even though I did technically still have Rob’s truck.
Tash opened the door in plaid PJ pants, her bra, and smudged eyeliner that made a perfect smoky eye. I’d expect nothing less.
“Oh, good,” she mumbled. “Just who I was hoping to see.”
I followed her in without an invitation. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Don’t good morning me. You ditched us last night.” She flopped onto the couch and burritoed in a blanket. “I had a movie and questionable men queued up.”
“Garrett and his friends don’t count as questionable.” I dropped into the armchair. “I’m really sorry, by the way. Turns out, it was a terrible life choice.”
Her ears perked up. “Tell me more.”
