“Huh, I’m not actually your girlfriend, and no one is here, so I don’t really understand why we’re holding hands right now.”
“I feel like we should ensure that we are performing the relationship duties now so that when we get to the restaurant, you aren’t taken aback.”
“Oh, good idea,” she says as we head toward the Rolls-Royce, but I can’t tell if she is being sarcastic or not.
“Wow.” She stops as we stand next to the car. “We’re taking a Rolls? I thought we’d go in the truck or something.”
“I’ll take you out in style.”
“I could kind of get used to this. Wow.”
“Don’t get too used to it.” I laugh. “I don’t flaunt my wealth often.”
“Hey, I don’t really care either way.” She sounds slightly defensive, and I hope I haven’t upset her.
“It’s okay. So, what was your question?”
“I was wondering if anyone is really going to believe that we’re together. Are people going to ask me about our relationship? What am I supposed to tell them? Like, how did we meet?”
“We’re just going to tell them the truth,” I say. “We met a couple of months ago, when I first got to town, and I was at the bookstore.”
“I mean, we technically met at Cristy’s Cupcakes,” she says. “So that’s not the truth.”
“We technically met in the street,” I say, “when you were pretending to jog but had no energy.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She stretches her arms out like she’s getting ready for a race.
“I think we should say our first meeting was at the bookstore. It seems better, don’t you think?”
“I mean, fine.” She shrugs and wrinkles her nose. “Whatever you think is best.” I have no idea why she’s being so amenable, but I’ll take it.
“So we’ll say we met at the bookstore. We were immediately attracted to each other. We went on a date, and we’ve been seeing each other since.”
“Okay. And how serious is that?” she asks.
“I mean, how serious do you want it to be?” I open the door for her, and she gets into the car, sliding into the seat and buckling up before I close the door and head to my side. I slide into the driver’s side and look over at her. She looks like a million dollars sitting there, and for the first time in my life, I know what it is to want someone.
“I mean, I want nothing. This is your fake relationship, not mine.”
“That’s where you’ve gotten it wrong, darling.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“My fake relationship is also your fake relationship.”
“Sorry?” She stares at me like she thinks I’m crazy, and I try not to laugh. This is not the first time I’ve seen the expression on her face, and I’m almost positive it won’t be the last either.
“What if, for example, the paparazzi see us? They’re going to think that you are my girlfriend.”
“I mean, that’s the whole point of this, right?” she says, looking at me like I’m stupid. And maybe I am being stupid.Maybe this is a terrible idea, but at least it means I get to spend more time with her.
“Exactly. And if they choose to run a story, it’s your face that will be everywhere. Your name.”
“Oh.” She looks taken aback. “I didn’t think about that.” I feel bad for her. She’s never had to worry about the press constantly following her around and wanting to know everything about her.
“Well, it’s a good thing that I did.” I reach out and touch her shoulder gently. “I wanted to prepare you for that possibility.”
“But then people will think I’m really in a relationship with you.” She looks nervous then.
