Susan’s shoulders slumped.

She looked like she felt—tired. People probably thought she was Lewis’s agent or business manager. Certainly not his girlfriend. Correction, fake girlfriend.

What made Lewis think the idea would work? No way, people wouldn’t believe they were an item.

All her life, she wondered what it would be like to fit. To feel accepted by someone. Anyone. She had a lot to offer, if people would only look.

Don’t be so dramatic, her mother would say. People don’t look if there’s nothing to look at.

Lewis Matola was offering people something to look at.

Would it be so horrible if the world saw her as someone different? Just for a little while?

Rummaging through her bag, she located a hair tie and forced her curls into a messy bun. Then, she shed her jacket. The black turtleneck wasn’t stylish, but at least the world could see she had a waist.

Lewis was biting into his sandwich when she returned. She tossed her bag on the bench and slid in next to him. “You’ve got a deal.”