“Hm, where to start? I met Norman Marcus and?—”
“Shut up!”
“I know. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but it went really well until I found out that the only reason I was there was that he thought I was dating Logan Kemp.”
Tash leaned in. “Wait. NHL player Logan Kemp? Wasn’t he dating your friend, Shar until that picture in the paper came out?”
I nodded. Yes to all of the above. “Norman thought we were together.”
Her brows shot up. “I’m sorry?”
I let out a groan. “He offered me a job, but it requires us—me and Logan—to show up at different events. As boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Tash’s mind was working. “Why the hell would Norman Marcus care who you’re dating?”
I threw out my arms. “Right? He’s opening this new gallery, an artist collective space, and doing some kind of historical feature involving hockey. He’s convinced that I, as Logan’s significant other, can convince him to show up for the press.”
Realization dawned on Tash’s face. “Oh. Because he plays for the Blizzard.”
“Exactly.”
Tash chewed on this for a moment. “I don’t see the problem.”
I pressed my fingers against my temples. “Of course you don’t.”
“No, I’m serious. When does the gallery open?”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish. That would’ve been a good question to ask.
“Okay, you don’t know. That’s fine. But it can’t be too long if he’s already thinking about promotion.”
“So?”
“So, you tell Logan you want to do it until the opening, then you part ways amicably, or have a dramatic public breakup, whichever you prefer, and voila.”
“Voila? I see no ‘voila!’ This is Logan Kemp, Tash. Shar’s ex. There’s no way I can commit to spending so much time with him—I don’t want to spend that much time with him. And I don’t want people to think we’re dating, plus the fact that I don’t want to start off this job—a potential stepping stone to future incredible opportunities, on a lie!”
Tash laughed out loud. “What, you think everyone in the arts just made it there because of their talent? Do you know how many lies manager moms tell about their kids to get them acting gigs? They make up false addresses, birth certificates?—”
“Yeah, okay, I get it, but I don’t want that to be me! Why should I have to link myself to some guy to get ahead?”
She gave me a look. “Babe.”
“Babe.”
Tash let out a slow breath. “You’re literally preaching to the choir, but that system isn’t changing anytime soon. We can sit here and bitch about it, or we can use it to our advantage.” She reached for her glass on the end table and took a very sketchy sideways drink of some liquid that wasn’t quite clear. “What have you got to lose?”
That question gave me pause. The job. I had the job to lose. But would I lose it if Norman found out I wasn’t actually dating Logan . . . or would I lose it faster by telling the truth?
I thought back to that plastic room. How eager he’d been, how fast he’d wanted me to sign.
“Okay.” I sucked in a breath and held it. “Okay.”
“There you go.”
I leaned over my knees. “So, what, I tell Logan? Hope he’ll go along with it?”
She grinned. “Oh, he’ll go along with it.”
