Page 15 of Oliver
"In some cases, natural requires careful planning," I replied, squinting against the sunlight. "Otherwise, the end result looks forced."
Zahra nodded, licking her strawberry ice cream cone with the focused dedication of someone trying to prevent a meltdown.The late afternoon sun caught in her dark hair, highlighting strands of copper.
I kept a careful mental checklist of approved interactions. In the twelve days since our café “date,” we'd meticulously progressed from separate seating to sharing a bench, from polite distance to occasional brushes of shoulders. Each micro-escalation was documented with seemingly casual photos, building the illusion of two old friends rediscovering something deeper.
According to my timeline, today was our transition from friendship to romance, the pivotal turning point in our social media narrative. We'd had the proper number of casual meetups and group outings, precisely spaced over the past two-or-so weeks. Our online audience had been properly prepped with subtle hints of reconnection.
Today was meant to signal something more.
"I still think this whole thing is overthought," Zahra said, her eyes following a young couple with their toddler. "Real relationships aren't this..."
"Structured?" I supplied.
"Calculated."
I raised an eyebrow. "You hired me for my expertise in creating convincing relationships. Calculation is what you're paying for."
She sighed, turning her attention back to her rapidly melting ice cream. "I know. I just…"
Zahra trailed off, her eyes cast down as she brought the cone to her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and rolled the swirl of pink to collect the wayward ice cream threatening to trail down, then wrapped her lips around it, sucking on it from base to tip.
Fuck.
My cock stirred awake, and I tugged at the turtleneck of my sweater. It was getting hot, and I needed a distraction. Fast.
“Maybe we should play a game,” Zahra suggested, oblivious to the effects her ice cream eating methods had on me.
“What kind of game?”
“Choose a random person and make up a background story.”
I considered her proposition. It was a distraction, within the guidelines, and since Zahra seemed to appreciate the wry humor of my insights into fellow humans, it could help with our photoshoot.
“Okay.” I searched the park for a target. “I’ve got one.” I nodded toward a man in an expensive suit talking intensely on his phone while powerwalking. My expression shifted into one of grave scientific analysis, brow furrowed as though examining a particularly complex equation.
"Banking executive. Specializes in high-risk investments." I leaned forward slightly, adjusting my glasses with clinical precision. "Currently having an existential crisis because he just realized the sandwich he ate this morning was on white bread instead of rye."
Zahra snorted, her ice cream cone freezing midway to her mouth.
"Oh my God," she managed between giggles, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she looked from the businessman to me. "You can tell all that just by looking at him?"
"Of course." I nodded gravely, not breaking character. "It's a scientific certainty. Note the way he keeps touching his stomach with mounting horror. Classic sign of bread-related regret. He’s on the phone with his therapist as we speak."
Zahra burst into a peal of bubbly laughter, and something shifted in my chest at the sound. A strange, unexpected tightening that caught me off guard.
I'd been hired to make her convincingly happy, but her genuine laughter felt different. Better. A sense ofaccomplishment flowed through me, more satisfying than solving a complex equation or proving a scientific hypothesis.
I smiled. Then I chuckled. And before I knew it, Zahra and I were looking at each other with an amused warmth I’d promised to never believe in again.
Zahra was still giggling as she brought her ice cream to her lips, then her head snapped up with a squeak, a dollop of strawberry ice cream painting a pink dot on her nose.
Before I could think, I reached out with my thumb, gently wiping away the spot. Her skin was warm under my touch. So soft. Zahra's eyes widened, her gaze locking with mine, and something passed between us that I didn’t want to name. I froze, fingers still grazing her cheek. I should have pulled back, but I didn’t. Not right away.
And just like that, I'd broken one of my cardinal rules.
"Perfect!" Elena hurried over, face glowing with delight as she scrolled through the shots. "The intimacy, the longing, the flutter of my heart."
“Good.” I looked over her shoulder at the preview, masking the hurricane of emotions threatening to break through my carefully constructed walls.
