“I can choose to give him pertinent information that may not look good for you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I am privy to information that may make you look guilty. I don’t know if you’re guilty, but the facts don't look good.”
“But I’m not guilty.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you would think that.”
“Why? Because we kissed?” I take another step closer to her. “You think that one kiss?—”
“It was more than one kiss,” she says, breathing heavily.
“You think that multiple lingering kisses are going to make me believe that you could not possibly have stolen my grandma’s million-dollar necklace—which is a family heirloom—because your lips told me everything I need to know about you?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Obviously, Hunter. What I’m saying is… Ugh, just tell me about your proposition.”
“I’m in need of some assistance. And before your mind goes into the gutter again, it is not sexual assistance. I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I add on quickly, lest she think I'm using it as an excuse.
“Your girlfriend?” She blinks. “Wait. What do you mean?”
“I was in town today, and the paparazzi were there.”
“Yikes, for real, the paparazzi were there?”
“The paparazzi. Photographers and journalists who were trying to get a story on someone famous. That famous person is me. They want to get my story.”
“Wait… what?” Her words seem to be coming cautiously now. “What story are they trying to get?”
“I don’t know what story they’re trying to get. But the simple fact of the matter is, there is no story that I want to give them.”
“I’m not sure that I am comprehending. You want me to pretend to be your fake girlfriend because of the paparazzi? Why would the paparazzi care if you had a girlfriend?”
“Gina, I think you’re under the mistaken impression that I’m going to answer any of these questions. I’m not. You pretend to be my girlfriend for the duration of the summer, and I won’t tell the private investigator that I met you in a cupcake store while you were pretending to be an FBI agent. I won’t tell them that you were spying on your boyfriend, who happened to dump you very soon after that. I won’t tell them that I found you snooping."
“Okay, I get it. But you know I didn’t steal the necklace.”
“I know no such thing. I don’t really know you that well. What I do know is I could use your help, and I want to believe you.” I smile at her indignant face. The truth of the matter is, I do want to believe her. I think she’s fun and beautiful. The way her long dark hair cascades down the side of her face makes me think of how she would look if she were on top of me and riding me, brushing her hair against my face. But I can’t tell her that.
“So I’m guessing the only way you’re going to believe me is if I find the actual thief? In the meantime, I suppose I’ll be your pretend fake girlfriend, or whatever it is you want.”
“Good. You’ll accompany me to dinner tomorrow night.”
“What?”
“I am meeting up with some friends and business acquaintances. It will be a formal dinner, so wear something nice. I’m thinking a slinky dress.”
“I don’t have a slinky dress here to wear.”
“Do you have one at home?”
“I mean, I suppose I can find something. I didn’t realize I was going to have to pretend in front of other people.”
“Who were you going to pretend with? Just me? What good would that do?”
“I don’t know. I’ll just go along with it."
"It’ll be fine, Gina….”
“So why do I feel like it’s not going to be fine?”
