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“Oh God,” I groan. “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”
“Are you only just realising this?” Lori laughs. “I knew from the minute you told me you were only working at Jensen’s to bag a guy and you thought you were onto a winner, as you’d just told a six-foot-three blond guy that you were a part-time lifeguard at Swim and Splash as you, and I quote, ‘Thought he looked like he could be a lifeguard.’ I mean, who does that? You, Alice. That’s who. So this is no surprise.”
“What about Jona?” I suggest, moving her on quickly.
“Absolutely not,” Lori says. “You’re not taking my twenty-one-year-old brother on a pretend date. It’s wrong on so many levels, and he’d probably think he was in with a chance.”
“It was just a thought.” I sighed.
“Yeah, well, we know what happens when you think.”
“Hey,” I protest, even though I know she’s right. “I’m just trying to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve me asking Owen.”
“Why don’t you ask Owen first, and when he says no, then come up with a solution?”
“You think he’ll say no?” My stomach sinks. Of course he will. He’s never been to any of the work social gatherings, he doesn’t eat in the staffroom, and he has a perfectly happy and content life with his partner.
“Who’d say yes?” Lori asks.
I consider this. “Jona?”
“Not happening,” she says.
“God, I’m going to have to ask Owen, aren’t I?” My hair flops over my face as I place my head in my hand.
“Yes, but just be prepared for when he says no.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“From what you’ve told me, the guy doesn’t go anywhere, doesn’t speak to anyone, and very much sounds like he already has a partner, so I’m struggling to see what part of this would appeal to him, unless he secretly loves dancing?” Lori says, her voice picking up at the end of her sentence like she’s questioning the possibility.
“I wouldn’t know.” I bite the side of my mouth, trying to recall if I’ve ever seen Owen swinging his hips to invisible music while brewing his tea potions in the staffroom.
“You just need to sell it to him as a free day out with a work friend,” Lori continues. “And hope that his partner is super understanding.”
“Sounds easy.” Especially as I’m not sure Owen would even consider me a work friend.
“It will be for you. Now I have to go, as my shellac isn’t going to redo itself. You call me and let me know how badly Owen rejects you. By then, I might have found you an alternative if I bribe some of the guys at work.”
“Do I thank you for this?”
“You know you love me,” Lori purrs. “Bye, sweet.”
“Talk soon.”
Locking my screen, I know Lori’s right. I just need to rip the plaster off and ask Owen.
But how on God’s green earth I’m supposed to convince a man—regardless of him being gay or bi or pan or whatever—who already has someone at home to pretend to be my boyfriend for a day is beyond me. Normally, I’d be up for this kind of challenge, but for some unknown reason, asking Owen makes me nervous.
Maybe it’s because we work together. If he says no, I still have to see him every day.
Or maybe it’s because he’s grumpy and reserved, and I feel like I’d be ambushing him with something painfully awkward.
Plus, there’s the small issue that pretending to be straight and wildly in love with me might not exactly be high on his bucket list.
Whatever the reason, this feels like one of the hardest charades I’ve ever attempted.
And the worst part?
