Page 7 of Look on the Bright Side

“Does someone need an organ?” she asked suddenly. “A bone marrow transplant, maybe?” She leaned forward, concerned. “Did you run my blood type at the hospital?” Now, that made sense. She was a match for something, so he took her out for dinner to ask. And she’d do it. She’d give her bone marrow, no questions asked. Saving lives was her life’s mission, after all. “I’m in. You don’t have to ask twice.”

“Calm yourself, Dr.Smith. It’s not that.” He looked at a spot over her head. “My sister is getting married on Labor Day. Our grandmother is ninety-nine and is in poor health.”

“I hope she makes it until then.” He didn’t say anything else. “And how does this involve me?”

Dr.Santini took another yoga breath in order to tolerate her questions, then let it out slowly. “My grandmother and I are close. She recently told me she…” He paused. “Never mind.”

“Just spit it out,” Lark said. “Rip off the Band-Aid.” She was realizing the wine was so good, she might need to Uber home. Also, she could cut this rib eye with a spoon, it was so tender. Philosophically, she wanted to be a vegetarian, but the kind who ate steak once in a while. And cheeseburgers. And bacon. But otherwise, no meat. Better for the planet.

“She’s worried about me never getting married or having children.”

“Sure. Grandparents are like that. My grandfather wants to fix me up with his girlfriend’s grandson.”

He stared at her. “I…I’d like to reassure her that I’m fine. Not lonely. Not…unattached.”

“Are you lonely and unattached?” she asked.

“No, and yes,” he said, irritated. “That’s why you’re here. The unattached part.”

Lark stopped chewing. “Say again?”

“I would like you to be my companion at family functions this summer and my guest at my sister’s wedding.”

Ah ha. He wanted her to pretend to be his girlfriend, bless his heart. Based on this interaction, however, she’d actually rather give her bone marrow. “Um, I’m sorry, I doubt I’m the person for the job.”

“I’ll pay you for your time, of course.” His voice was flat.

Lark choked on her wine, recovered, and wiped her lips with her napkin. “Um, isn’t that illegal?”

“No, Dr.Smith, paying for sex is illegal. Paying for your company is not.”

“Right. So I’d be an escort? An amateur escort.”

“I suppose.” He shifted in his seat, the only sign of his discomfort.

“Why not just get a girlfriend? You’re not ugly, and you make a great living.”

“I don’t know any women I’d want to date, and I don’t have the time to find one. You’re attractive and not entirely stupid, so you’ll do.”

“Not entirely stupid. I blush.” She set down her fork and blinked. “So you want to rent me? For the summer?”

“Yes.”

Dr.Satan needed a girlfriend. That was a good one. “What’s in it for me?” she asked.

“The money, for one.” He glanced at her torso. “I’d buy you some decent clothes.”

“So I’m Julia Roberts now?”

“Sorry?”

“You haven’t seen Pretty Woman?”

“No.”

God. He hadn’t seen Pretty Woman. “Get on Tinder or something. I bet you’d find someone pretty fast, Dr.Santini. Why lie to your grandmother? Just do it for real. I’m sure someone would like you.” Whoops.

“I have yet to find a woman whose company I enjoy more than solitude.”

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