INA
Iwoke up Thursday morning feeling almost human again. Still tired. Still a little achy. But the fever had broken sometime during the night, and I could breathe through my nose again, which felt like a miraculous gift from the universe.
I would never take breathing for granted again. No more dreams of going to space for me. I was staying on Earth where the oxygen is.
I shuffled out to the kitchen to find Abby making coffee, still in her pajamas, which was unusual. She usually wasn’t awake so early.
“You’re alive,” she said, looking up from the French press. “I was starting to wonder if I should check your pulse.”
“Barely alive. But alive. Thanks for your germs.” I collapsed at our small kitchen table, wrapping my robe tighter around myself. “Why are you awake?”
“My shift ended early yesterday, so I went to sleep at a normal hour for a change.” She poured me a cup of coffee and slid it across the table. “Which means we have time to talk. I have questions.”
I froze with my coffee cup halfway to my lips. “What?” I said, trying to sound casual. “What could you possibly have questions about?”
“You know exactly what I want to know about,” she said, shaking her head and grinning. “You had dinner with Dane, your boss. And you two looked awfully cozy.”
“That dessert was amazing, by the way,” I said, hoping to skate past it. “And that bread? I’m upset you’ve never brought any home for me before. Nowthat’ssomething I have questions about.”
Abby put her hands on her hips. “If you want stolen bread, fess up about your boss.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Ugh, well why not? He’s hot as fuck and he’s clearly into you. If you haven’t pounced on that man, can I take a crack at him?”
“You back off,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Well, well, well,” Abby said, grinning again. “You’ve been seeing him, haven’t you?”
I groaned and put my head down on the table. “I can’t talk about it. You can’t interrogate a sick woman. It’s unfair.”
“Oh, we have ways to make you talk,” Abby joked.
“I signed an NDA.”
My roommate went completely still. “For what? Are you fucking your boss or working for the CIA?”
“Neither, I promise.” I lifted my head and looked at her, weighing my options. I could keep lying, but Abby was my best friend in this city.
If I couldn’t trust her, who could I trust?
“Okay,” I said slowly. “But you have to swear—and I mean swear—that this doesn’t leave this apartment.”
“I swear on my chef’s knife collection.”
I took a deep breath and told her everything. The commercial. The fake relationship. The carefully orchestrateddates and staged photographs. Lucas’s PR campaign. The raise and the Cupid’s Arrow membership and the whole elaborate scheme to generate buzz for the Valentine’s Day launch.
When I finished, Abby was staring at me with her mouth open.
“Let me get this straight,” she said finally. “You’re fake dating your boss. For money and health insurance for me. And it’s all to sell a dating app.”
“When you put it like that, it sounds kind of shady.”
“Ina, it’s shady as hell,” she said.
“I know!” I buried my face in my hands. “I know it’s insane. But how could I say no? In this economy?”
Abby sighed. “Be honest with me about something. Is this really all fake for you?”
