“Dude, if you knew her personality was hot trash, you’d reconsider.” For all his joking, I know he likes girls with more substance.
Nancy wouldn’t know substance if it beaned her on the nose like a softball. She’d care more about having to fix her makeup.
“I might,” he agrees.
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one under the gun to propose to her.”
“Jesus, is she really that bad?”
“Worse,” I say flatly. “It’s not like I didn’t give her a fair shake. Hell, the last four or five times we went out, I gave her every chance to prove me wrong. Show me there could ever be a spark.”
Instead, all she proved was that she was spoiled rotten.
Everything had to be just so, or she’d freak.
Tapas and wine menus. The cloud cover on a chartered day cruise out of Lake Union. No greyhounds at the dog rescue event I sponsored from a local shelter because they “freak her out”—and you’d best believe I vetoed that one.
Greyhounds were half my world as a kid.
Every time, the same. No grace, no humility, and no respect for people or animals. I also never missed the way she’d check herself out in every mirror we passed.
One time when I didn’t immediately compliment her dress, she sulked through dinner.
I don’t have the time or patience to deal with an overgrown teenager.
I’m definitely not putting up with that shit for the rest of my life.
I’m not stunting whatever progress I’ve made escaping the black hole of ego and entitlement just to settle for someone who thrives in it.
“Yeah, man.” Luis winces in sympathy. “Gotta say, I’m glad I’m not stuck in the billionaire dating pool. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Too bad you can’t find a decent girl to buy yourself some time so they’d get off your ass.”
I laugh, but then—
An idea.
A wild, wicked, workable idea.
What if Icouldbuy a little time to derail my parents’ marriage-from-hell train? What if I broadened my options to include a girl who’s actually palatable—even if it’s just for appearances? Even if it’s only fake and temporary?
“What now? What’s with that look?” Luis says, staring at me in the mirror. “Why are you smiling?”
“Your fault.” I grin, scratching Charlie’s shoulders as he licks my face. “Thanks for the inspiration.”
“Oh no.”
“You might’ve just saved my life, Luis.”
He groans nervously. “I don’t know what that means, but I know you, boss. Whatever you’re scheming, it won’t be good.”
III
Cat Got Your Tongue
(Lena)
Here comes this idiot again.
I pause what I’m doing just to glare out the window as the sleek black SUV pulls up in the parking lot and idles like a tank.
