Page 96 of Fake

I force a smile and shake his hand, then do my best to focus as we discuss LLCs versus LLPs, contracts, payment structure, and marketing. Everything seems fair. Generous even, considering it’ll be his name that draws clients at first. I say as much, and Benjamin waves the statement away.

“What kind of partner would I be if I lock you into a contract that favors me just because in this moment, I’m farther along the career path?” Benjamin sits back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. “You’re every bit as talented, if not more so.”

I swallow a yawn and fight the urge to slap my cheeks. “Some might call you business savvy if you went that direction.”

“We need less people thinking that way, not more. I have my eyes on the future, Mina. If I leverage my name for bigger gains in the short term, I risk you resenting me in the long term. That’s not a great foundation for what I hope is a lasting relationship.”

Given how well the conversation is going, I should be giddy, but I can barely muster a hell yeah.

Benjamin frowns, studying me for a long moment before cocking his head and drawing his brows together. “Do you have reservations about us working together?”

“What? No! I’m incredibly excited.”

Damn this fatigue spiral! Surely, I can muster enough energy from somewhere to appear enthusiastic about one of the most important conversations in my life. I blink rapidly, hoping that might shake some liveliness loose.

“Excited is not the word I’d use to describe the person sitting across from me.” Benjamin sits back and crosses his ankle over his knee just as the sun dips behind a cloud, dimming the energy in my office even further. I can’t catch a break.

Dear God. Throw a girl a bone here! Yours, Mina Blake.

“I’m sorry. I had a difficult weekend and tried to caffeinate my way through the day and that clearly didn’t work as planned.”

Benjamin studies me for a long moment, then nods like he’s come to an understanding. “Your difficult weekend wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain article about a mutual friend, would it?”

I blink in surprise. How the hell have so many people read Fallon’s blog? I was furious when I thought she was small potatoes, but if her reach extends far enough for Benjamin and Tad to be reading, I’m more than furious.

I’m…

I’m…

I’m so angry there isn’t a word for it!

Benjamin holds up his hands. “Forgive my bluntness. A few people find it endearing, and by few I mostly mean my mother, but the majority prefer a level of sugarcoating I’m just not good at. I probably should have elegantly segued into that question.”

“No, no, no. Put me in your mom’s camp. I like it too. I’m just not used to it yet.” I puff out my cheeks.

Am I really going to talk about my personal life with Benjamin?

After too many emotionally constipated days, it appears I am.

“My bad weekend has everything to do with that article.” I add a sad head bob of resigned annoyance.

Benjamin takes the statement in stride. “Is it true? The relationship’s fake?”

“No,” I say emphatically, then dip my chin in concession. “I mean it was, but it isn’t anymore.”

The statement unlocks a weekend’s worth of turmoil I’ve been trying to rationalize away. I’m tired of hunkering in on myself. I want to explode. To expand. To let my feelings take up space because I am too small to contain them. I’m not sure people are meant to contain them in the first place. Maybe emotion should be expressed so it doesn’t linger and fester.

If Benjamin digs bluntness, I hope he likes to get as much as he gives, because it’s been a long, quiet weekend and I have a lot to say.

“My friend published that article.”

He grimaces, catching the less than favorable implications right away. Not like they were difficult to see.

“And you didn’t approve?”

I huff in exasperation and cross my arms over my chest. “I most certainly did not. She is so in the wrong.”

“But she wasn’t lying?”

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