He ripped off a hunk of crust. “I do want to have kids, eventually. I’m just sick of them pushing me.”
Since when did he get intimidated by anybody? He was strong, blunt, and confident. Plus, he had a great laugh and massive biceps. Obviously, he’d find somebody to share his life with.
“Set some boundaries. If they keep pressing, leave.” I shrugged. “You don’t have to be around people who disrespect you.”
“They’re my family,” he said with a harsher edge.
I inhaled sharply and frowned. Blood relation didn’t mean they had anybody’s best interests at heart. Maybe his lack of boundaries with them was why he shuffled around Fancee’s with Shelby while she went to visit her boyfriend and get shoes. Not that it was my business how he dealt with…well, anything. I perched my chin on my hand. “So, I’d be a placeholder until your perfect baby mama rolls up?”
“No.” He gave me a funny look. “Not indefinitely. I was thinking maybe a few months. Three, tops. How long were you planning on making content with me?”
“I don’t know.”I had to be cool, so I shrugged. “A similar time frame.”
“Well, great. You get content, I get relief.” He packed his remaining lunch into the paper bag. “You’d also have to attend a few family parties, but we'd feed you and everything.”
Oh no. What did that mean?
“I have a diet.” I clung to his forearm as he started to walk away. “Wait, where are you going?”
“This isn’t my lunch break; I only had a ten.” He gestured to the door. “We can talk more about our proposition later.”
“Our proposition?” I balked.
He made it sound like an indecent proposal.
“Yeah. You in?” he asked.
So casual. Like I hadn’t fantasized about him inviting me into his car during our open lunch period in high school. For food. Company. Not backseat…whatever.
“I’ll think about it,” I said. I didn’t know why I was pushing back. He was offering me everything I wanted, but there had to be a catch.
He strode off to toss his lunch into one of the many fridges, then slipped through the doors to get to work.
I put my ear bud in and replayed his song choice. Would I really have fun making content with someone who hated social media? Plus, I’d already escaped from my obnoxious family, so playing nice with another wasn’t exactly a bargain. But he was game for an experiment. For some reason, we had some kind of ‘it’ factor together. Could I trust the quarterback with my brand?
Wait,I realized, glancing after him. He wasn’t the quarterback anymore and hadn’t been for years. But what was I supposed to reframe him as? My future fake boyfriend? The Big Box Man? Zack?
Whatever. We could work on that later. I finished my lunch and got back to my shift.
I wasn’t going to spend my whole day checking my phone for texts from him. He wasn’t the type to flood my inbox like Theo when he wanted something. But I did have clients. So, whenever it was slow, I ducked into the back and sifted through my blinking notifications. Most of my messages were mindless ramblings requiring minimal effort. Something like ‘awww bb
I rolled my eyes. Just because I sold feet pics didn’t mean I wanted to be anybody’s sugar baby. This client probably thought he was being sweet. Offering me a dream:hisdream, at least. So many of my clients wanted a trophy wife, two kids, and a man cave. Probably like Zack, the ‘family man.’ At least he didn’t want Zeezy’s. Although I still had no idea why he’d want to posemeas his wholesome girlfriend. My social media was Cool Girl Chic. Not future wifey. Although if I ever wanted to change my brandto a fun, approachable lady, the kind who seemed to go viral lately…
Cassandra peeked around the corner. “Who ya messaging?”
“Nobody.” I scoffed, sending a heart emoji to Anon73.
She strolled to the shoe-sorting station with the most recent discards. “You’ve been checking your phone a lot today.”
“I’m expecting to hear back on a job thing. It’s for modeling.” No need to send her into a frenzy about dating.
“Ooh, that’s exciting.” Her tone carried the same vague enthusiasm she had for Miss Preggo getting new shoes. “I hope you get it, Ni-ni.”
