Page 106 of Witch You Would
“Sweets for the sweet, m’lady,” I said with a grin that was more fake than real, even though I knew she’d be happy.
“Ooh, what is it?” she asked.
“Open it and find out.”
She dragged me inside and closed the door, ignoring a few people whistling in the hallway. After what went down at dinner,it made me deeply uncomfortable. Maybe I should have stayed outside...
“Tiramisu! My favorite! Well, one of my favorites. Thank you.” Penelope threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. I kissed her back—apparently not enthusiastically enough, because she pulled away.
“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning as she searched my eyes for clues.
“I’m... something.” Staring over the ledge of my life and feeling like I was about to fall instead of flying.
“I’m something, too, but mine can wait. Tell me what happened with Isaac while I eat? Or—”
“Eat, yes.” Where would I even start?
This time, she took the chair at the desk so she could use it as a table, and I sat on the bed, resting my elbows on my thighs.I needed to rip this revelation off like a bandage, even if I knew it would hurt.
I started with a repeat of why I’d come onCast Judgmentin the first place: charity money, yes, but also publicity and the hope of new advertisers and subscribers and possible jobopportunities. Then I outlined the show offer, leaving out the fake-flirting angle even if it felt like lying by omission.At first, she was excited for me. Money, fame, money, more money... She knew how big a deal that was. The more I explained,though, about having to move and travel and possibly give upMage You Look, the less Penelope ate, until she’d totally abandoned her dessert to watch me with a worried expression.
“That does sound like a lot,” she said hesitantly. “But it all seems like a good opportunity? For your career?”
“Yeah,” I said, smoothing my mustache.
Penelope sat next to me and took my hand. “You do that when you’re nervous.”
“Do what?”
“Mess with your fake mustache.” She laced her fingers through mine. “Do you not... want a show? A bigger-deal one, I mean?”
It had sounded cool when Sam and Ed and I talked about it, way back when my agent—Grandpa Fred’s agent—had first asked whetherI would want to be onCast Judgment. We’d joked about buying Leandro clothes from nicer thrift shops, replacing our busted coffee table with one that had foursame-sized legs, having good booze instead of paint thinner that had to be mixed with something to be drinkable. A biggerapartment, new cars, all our student loans paid off. Red carpets, award shows, hiding in bushes from paparazzi.
We’d dreamed, but we hadn’t really expected anything to happen. The idea of me getting an actual show offer was on the samelevel as the Cuban retirement plan: buy lottery tickets and hope for the best.
“Gil?” Penelope asked. “Are you worried about your brand or something else?”
So many something elses.
“Do you think you won’t be able to do a good job?” She squeezed my hand. “You’re awesome. You can totally hang.”
She was being so careful not to say anything about us. Was she trying to be supportive, or did she not think we had a futuretogether? Isaac and Rick definitely wouldn’t want Leandro to have a girlfriend tagging along... not that she was, technically,since we hadn’t talked about it...
Leandro couldn’t even have a girlfriend! He wasn’t real! He’d never take Penelope out to eat, or to see a movie, or to sneak-read books at the store because we couldn’t afford to buy them. If someone saw Penelope with Leandro, and then with Gil, they’d eitherfigure out who I was or they’d assume she was cheating on me. With myself. What a fucking mess.
I shook my head and laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was dark and bitter, like day-old coffee grounds left in the cafetera.
“What are you thinking?” Penelope asked. “You sound... not good.”
I wasn’t. Had I said I was on a ledge? More like I’d dug a pit and fallen into it, and I desperately needed a ladder to getout.
I thought back to what I’d told Sam and Ed, about having to decide between the future Isaac wanted for me, where all my datingwas fake or secret, or... something else. And I knew, finally, without a doubt, that I wanted something else.
I didn’t want to have some fake life, with or without Penelope. I wanted her. I wanted us. We couldn’t have that with Leandrostanding in the way. He was a problem, and I had to fix it.
A sense of clarity settled on me. The fake dating needed to end. If it did, she and I could be together for real. That wasthe solution I’d been searching for. That’s what we had to do.
I let go of her and stood up. “This isn’t working. This thing we’re doing. It was a mistake. A huge mistake.”
