Page 25 of Coast to Coast

Amari: Oh man, I can’t fucking wait. This season is going to be so much fun.

CALLIOPE

Had I not noticed the brief flash of interest in Tom’s expression both when I reacted to his assertion that I could be the boss and when I mentioned a bit of post-game punishment, I would have been able to sleep much better. And now I found myself tossing and turning, trying not to cave. Masturbation while thinking of the boss you were fake dating was sure to be a mistake.

There were so many reasons Zander and I had been a mismatch. The first was that he had always had insecurity issues regarding my family’s success. He constantly commented that I didn’t need to work and that my parents would always be there to take care of me financially. He even went as far as to suggest that I should step aside and leave the opportunities for people who needed them.

Fuck him. I had been raised to understand you didn’t get stronger by sidelining the competition. You beat them. He might have won when he stole my presentation, but he did that knowing he couldn’t do it alone.

In the bedroom, any suggestions that we play or explore were met with derision and disgust. Sex with him may as well have been scheduled, and positions were limited to his preferences. Inever spent the night, which was good because I could go home and finish what he never could. Oral sex? Oh, Zander loved it, receiving it. Two months into our relationship, I went to my gynecologist and asked her to give me every test in the book to ensure there wasn’t an issue with my flora. I was completely normal; Zander didn’t like going down on me. My sexual pleasure was an afterthought to him.

He still thought we could stay together after discovering he had stolen my presentation. By that time, the only connection we had was our working relationship. And while I had thought he was interested in my ideas because he supported me and wanted to see me succeed, he was using me to farm his own ideas and make himself succeed to my detriment.

I didn’t need a boyfriend enough to lose my pride.

Over the past month, I have written at least four songs, poured my heart into them, and posted the videos on TikTok. Two of the songs went semi-viral. Why is the story of the man treating the woman like a commodity so relatable? How does Taylor Swift have stadiums of women singing along to The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived? Why are there so many small men? Or at least enough of them where sixty thousand plus woman sang along at every concert about their small men?

I wished that Zander was the exception, but there were so few good guys out there. My dad and PJ had given me lofty expectations, and every man I’ve dated had done nothing but let me down.

Going back to Tom’s questions about my music, is that what I want to do? Eh. Not really. I wanted to create and perform music but didn’t want to be in the limelight. I didn’t want to be famous. I looked at my mom and envied her life. She wrote and made serious money but could live a quiet life. That was part of why I chose Boston University instead of Berklee for undergraduate school. I loved creating music but not the business of music. Ithought Marketing would be less cutthroat. Whelp, the joke was on me.

Here, I found myself taking a job that was not even on the list of potential possibilities with a man who had decided that the best way to protect me was to pretend to date me. A man that anyone would love to date, hot as hell, good-natured, successful, hockey-playing, single father. It's a walking trope in at least nine of my mother’s bestselling romance novels. No, Mom, it’s not working out for me in the end; I will end up with another mediocre man like Zander. If I’m lucky, he’ll fall asleep early and won’t hear my vibrator while I take care of my own business.

My text chimed just as I was settling into bed to sleep.

Juno: All good?

Me: Yeah. I just got back from spending the night with my new boyfriend and his son.

Within seconds, my phone was ringing.

“Do I need to call PJ into this or is it sister’s only?” Juno asked. I told PJ most things, but we drew the line with sharing sexual escapades.

“Just us. You can help me figure out how to explain it to him. Long story short, because of the clause in my contract that prohibits me from fraternizing with teammates, Tom thought it would be safer if we told his teammates that we were together. “ Yep, it sounded just as dumb when I tried to explain it to my sister.

“But won’t that still risk your contract? What does it say about dating your boss?”

“I’m not actually going to be dating him, so it doesn’t matter. But it only prohibits teammates. Here, let me show you.” I put Juno on speakerphone while I scrolled through my e-mails for a signed copy of the employment contract.

“I got it. Give me a second to read it…Holy fuck, Cal, is that what being a nanny pays nowadays? It looks like I’m in the wrong business.”

“I told you the salary the other night.”

“I sure as hell didn’t believe you. This is insane.”

“Have you taken the time to google NHL and MLB salaries? I know that Sam had the biggest contract the Minutemen have ever signed, and while Tom is only in his second season, I don’t think hockey players struggle for money.”

“Makes me wonder what Monica makes as their assistant. She’s always working,” Juno said.

“She doesn’t struggle for money. It’s time to herself she is short of lately. But she loves it.”

Juno sighed, “I wish she and PJ would give it up and give in.” Juno lamented again, a topic that has continued to come up almost every time we have talked lately.

“Don’t even try it. The last time I pushed the issue, she refused to take my calls for a week.”

“Fine. Ugh. Okay, so what are the boundaries of this fake relationship?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like I’ll be faking attraction to him.”

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