“Oh good, does that mean you’ll make me your secondary beneficiary?” she taunts.
I roll my eyes.
“You wish.” I mean, we both know Mandy doesn’t need anyone’s money considering she makes more than I do, but athletes are way more enticed to sign with a company when you have a knockout like Amanda Carvalli batting her eyelashes and showing off her perfect tits.
My pecs are nice, but I can’t hold a candle to the smokeshow that is Mandy. Most of my co-workers think we’re dating, and we don’t correct them, because what’s the harm? In this business, everything’s about your image and what you’re selling—it doesn’t matter what the truth is as long as the lie is pretty enough to make you money. Pretending to be with me means the creepy assholes at corporate events leave her alone—which I’m glad to help with if that’s what it takes for her to get some peace.
Though sometimes I think Mandy takes her pretend role a little too seriously. I swear, if wewereactually dating, she’d drive me fucking insane.
Who am I kidding? She already does.
But despite how it might look, I don’t feel any attraction to Mandy, and I never have. Our relationship has been and always will be one hundred percent platonic.
Sometimes I wonder if Hudson knows we work together, considering she’s his stepsister.
I won’t ask because I don’t want to sound weird or like I’m prying. She knows we went to college together and played on the same team, and I’d be lying if I said being friends with her didn’t feel like, in some strange way, that I am still friends with him. Even if he hasn’t spoken to me in years—and apparently doesn’t speak to her either. Six degrees of separation and all.
“Boo. You suck,” she says with a sarcastic laugh. “At least leave me the condo.”
“I’ll think about it if you stop tracking my every move like a stalker.”
She laughs, then her voice turns soft.
“You see the guys yet?”
It’s the delicate way she asks, like she wants to know, but doesn’t want to press. Which is hilarious considering Mandy loves to pry when it comes tomylife. Maybe she’s just having an off day. I think I’m her favorite source of entertainment, even though I don’t consider my life entertaining in the least.
“Alex’s game is in an hour, and I need to get going. My hair’s not cooperating.”
Mandy chuckles. “Awww you want to look pretty for your boyfriends, Trey?”
“Fuck off,” I bite, but even I can’t hide the humor in my voice. “I just… I have an image to uphold.”
She sighs, and I think she’s going to give me shit like usual, but instead, she says, “I’m sure you look fine.”
I growl in frustration as my hair falls flat again.
“I don’t want to lookfine.I want to look like someone who has their fucking life together.”
There’s silence on the phone, and I realize how shitty that sounds, but before I can apologize for being self deprecating, she speaks.
“You do have your life together. More than I do.” I feel like shit the moment I hear the sadness in her voice. “At least you have friends, Trey.”
“You have friends,” I say as I abandon my hair and focus on spraying myself with cologne. “You have me.”
She lets out an annoyed laugh. “Yeah, and Jose.”
“Your vibrator doesn’t count, Mandy.” I sigh. “What about that guy you were seeing? Romeo or whatever.”
“Yeah, about that…”
I hear the disdain in her voice. I check my watch. I need to get moving.
“Romeo has found his Juliet in another coffin,” she drawls.
“I’m sorry,” I say. Dating sucks. I swear it’s next to impossible for me, but Mandy? Shit, if she can’t find someone, there’s no hope for any of us.
“Yeah, think I’m going to change careers and become a nun.”
