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Chris
I received a text from Mary early that morning.
Mary: Flight to LA for an audition! I’ll be home for your abuela’s birthday and will call as soon as I’m out.
“You’re taking your client to your abuela’s birthday?” Danny yelled over my shoulder.
I knew I should have taken my phone away from my desk to look at my texts.
“Yeah. It’s a long story, man,” I grumbled, shoving my phone into my pocket. I figured I’d respond later and not with a bunch of prying eyes.
“I’ve got time for stories. Like why I’m seeing you everywhere as the boyfriend of Mary James though you’re saying it’s a PR thing,” Danny said, rolling his chair into my cube.
“Nope. This isn’t a conversation we need to have. Especially not in the cubicle, with everyone popping up like meerkats or leaning against their cube to hear.”
As soon as I said the words, I saw a few people lower in their cubicles, and their typing get louder as if they weren’t listening.
“Well, hey, man. It’s noon. Let’s head tot that sushi place, have some sake, and you can tell me all about it,” Danny said with a laugh, smacking my knee.
I wanted to refuse, but I knew he’d bug me until we talked about it. And I did like a good Philadelphia roll.
“All right, man. Let’s head out.”
***
One bottle of sake and a couple of beers later, I’d spilled all of the details about Mary, and I’s fake or sort of real relationship to Danny. Of course leaving out some of the details, like me making her come in the back of the town car.
“So have you fucked her yet or is that once you get the promotion?” Danny asked point-blank, and I almost spit out my umagi.
“Why is that the first place your head goes, man?”
He shrugged. “Hey, you know if it were me in your shoes, you’d be asking the same question.”
“Yeah, and there’s no way in hell Mary would even get near your Dago dick.”
“Man, don’t be jealous. I speak a little Italian, make her some pasta Milanese, and she’ll be putty in these olive-skinned hands,” Danny said, waving his fingers.
“She’s on a limited carb diet; it’s actually called Keto. Supposed to help with her PCOS. So try again.”
Danny raised his eyebrows, pausing with his roll still in his chopsticks, midway to his lips. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I asked.
“You’re actually falling for this girl. Aren’t you?”
Taken aback by his sCreatoment, I stammered, taking a sip of my beer before I tried to figure out how to respond.
“Holy shit. I thought this was just something to add to your own PR portfolio by hooking up with her, but it’s serious. No guy who is just using a chick, or has a fake relationship or whatever you want to say, knows about a girl’s diet. Or her PCOS, whatever that is.”
“It’s Polycystic...wait...why am I telling you any of this? Mary and I are friends. PR agent and client.”
Friends and people who kiss, make the other come and go to little cousin’s plays.
So maybe I was falling for the girl, and maybe she might have had the same feelings for me. But if I even entertained that thought, I knew it could blow up in my face, and she could say she was done with our relationship. Or I could be fired for having a relationship with a client.
I didn’t exactly see any rules about it in the handbook, and no one had escorted me from the premises for a fake relationship, but it was all a real possibility.
“How about we get another round of beers and head back to the office, instead of hashing out this stuff?” I offered.
“If you’re buying, I won’t say a peep,” Danny said with a laugh.
I smirked. “Next round's on me.”