Page 21 of Snowed In
“I’d hoped you would.”
“I just want you to know what you’re missing. I would have let you stay until morning and everything.”
“A real hostess,” he says, but he turns serious as he gets that confident look again. “This way is better.”
Is it, though?
“Cleaner,” he continues, as he swipes the phone from my hands and starts to type. “No messy feelings.”
“Yeah, feelings are gross.”
He hands the phone back, ignoring my sarcasm. “I texted myself. You have my number.”
“Great.” My enthusiasm is half-hearted at best, but my hopeful fling turned new fake boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice as he stands and grabs his coat.
“Let’s get a drink next week. It will give you some time to consider.”
“You’re really committed to this bit.”
“Not a bit. How about Monday?”
“I—” I break off with a laugh. A perfectly reasonable reaction, all things considered. “Fine.”
“Promise me you’ll think about it.”
“Sure,” I say, but I’m lying.
I will not think about it.
I will not think about it at all.
Because it is the dumbest idea in the history of the world.
FIVE
CHRISTIAN
“You’re a genius.”
“I know.” I fit the plastic lid over my steaming cup of coffee, warming my hands with the cup as I turn to Zoe.
“It’s just a faultless plan,” she continues beside me. “It makes sense. It’s well thought-out. It’s in collaboration with someone you know well and trust. Truly, I’m amazed people don’t do this all the time.”
I pause, letting a group of people squeeze past me as she waits by the door. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
She puts a hand to her chest. “Me?”
“It’s a good idea.”
“No,” she says. “It’s not. I can’t believe you even got her to agree to it in the first place. I mean what did you—oh my God, you didn’t, did you?” She gapes at me. “She thinks it’s as stupid as I do.”
“She’ll come around.”
“I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” she says, following me out of the café and into the sharp bite of a Monday morning. It’s not even eight a.m. yet, and the sky is still dark, but the city is bustling with bundled up workers heading to the office, all of them looking less than pleased to be doing so.
“You didn’t hear her talk about going home,” I explain, as we join them. Wind rips through the street, sending Zoe’s scarf flying, and she grabs it with a scowl. “She sounded miserable.”
“And pretending to date you will help with that? You, who’s never held onto a girlfriend for more than a few months?”
