“Then what’s with the face?”
“I can’t help with what’s going on here,” I say, making a circular motion with my hand. “Genetics are beyond my control. I can only work with what my parents gave me.”
Her eyes crinkle. “You’resmiling.”
“Would you rather I frown at you?”
“I’d rather you take me seriously while I’m trying to work my magic and seduce you.”
I snort. “You don’t have to try so hard. Pass the captcha test I send you later, and I’m all yours.”
“Just for that,” she says, and I go stock-still as she unclasps her bra, “you owe me adozendonut holes.”
“And not a dozen regular-sized donuts?”
“It’s about the glaze-to-donut ratio,” she says sweetly, and I fight my groan and stare pointedly at the ceiling when she slips one arm out of her bra, then the other. “Anyway, can you help me with the massage oils before they come in? Your hands are bigger than mine and can reach some spots?—”
“What?” I somehow manage to choke on air, thumping my chest twice with a fist while she quickly puts her robe on.
“I’m kidding, Ethan.” Her lips curve into a soft grin when she turns to face me. “You can help me wash them off in the shower later?—”
I don’t stop my groan. “Behave, Barbie.”
“And miss out on Operation Ethan?” Her creaky, stumbling laugh makes its first reappearance since the plane. “Never.”
“I cannot believe him,”Barbie huffs, waving her phone wildly. “Does he not realize I have functioning eyes? I pay attention tothings—I literally get paid to do this at the company. And I checked the schedule. I knowthatparticular presentation happenedyesterday. He didn’t even try with his bald-faced lie.”
She spins on her feet, her eyes round as she glares up at me. My hands lift in defense.
“I had nothing to do with this.”
“I’m just so annoyed at all the run-around happening at the company—” She crinkles her nose, then inhales slowly. “You know what? I’m glad I’m leaving. I don’t have to deal with this headache for much longer.”
“You’re really set on leaving?”
“Yeah. I don’t want to do this my entire life,” she says. “No offense. I was only supposed to work at the company for a year, but…”
“The money wasthatgood?” I deadpan.
“Kinda. I realized I wanted to go back and finish my master’s without worrying about student loans or rent,” she rambles. “Or having to juggle my classes, my internship, and work, which is a good thing, since I don’t want Betty to worry about us.”
“Wait, what?”
“It’s a long story,” Barbie says as she scans the convention center. “Something I’m uncomfortable talking about in a room filled with people.”
I scan the area. Every booth surrounding us looks identical to the ones here yesterday. Every table carries the same free swag. None of the presentations happening today are relevant to our roles at work.
Everything here is the same, down to the ironed blazers and dress shirts we’re both wearing. The only difference here is that Barbie plans on leaving the company. This week is the only time I’ll ever interact with her in person before she resigns as the QC lead and flounces off to better things.
I look at her, and the words come out of me before my brain even entertains the idea. “You wanna ditch and enjoy our honeymoon?”
“I don’t thinkI’m enjoying this as much as I thought I would,” Barbie whispers, standing on her tiptoes so that her lips can meet my ear.
“No? You don’t say?” I respond wryly. “Boardwalk tourdidn’t clue you in that it’ll be a bored walk?”
She pulls away from me, straightening her pink-and-yellow striped shirt. “I thought it’d be a historic tour filled with plenty of cool facts.”
“Historic and cool do not belong in the same sentence.” I’m met with a dismissive hand wave. “What? Bee, name onecool factabout this place.”
