Page 142 of Pretend Girlfriend

We walked out to the rideshare area to wait for our Ubers, and began saying our goodbyes. “Is it okay if we hit pause on everything for a week?” I asked my three men when we had a private moment. “I just want to clear my head before we all dive into something. No dates, no phone calls, no texting.”

“Totally understand,” Theo said.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Austin added.

Landon suggested, “Regroup a week from today?”

“Next Sunday sounds good,” I agreed.

Out of everyone there, my Uber was the first to arrive. Conscious of the entire wedding party watching us—while pretending that they weren’t—I gave Landon a kiss and a long hug.

“Thanks for the crazy week,” I whispered to him.

“It was insane,” he agreed. “In the best kind of way.”

I looked at my ride, then glanced at Austin and Theo. They were politely turned the other way, trying to keep it from being awkward.

Fuck it.

I hugged Theo and kissed him on the cheek, then did the same with Austin. I didn’t care what the others thought. I couldn’t leave without some sort of goodbye.

“Talk to you in a week,” I told them.

I got in my Uber and went home.

*

My apartment was quiet, and everything felt so still after the excitement of Jamaica. I put on some music and began unpacking my suitcases, chuckling when I came across the sex toys.

So much had changed in the last week. It was like walking into a new life.

I collected my packages from the apartment mail room, which included a box of my belongings shipped from my old job. That was actually a huge relief, because it meant I didn’t need to show my face there. I’d certainly had enough embarrassment for one week.

I had my interview with Judge Rivendale the next morning. She was a judge on the Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals, and gave off grandmotherly vibes while we spoke.

“I have to admit, your recommendation from Danicka Cozart couldn’t have come at a better time,” she explained. “One of my clerks left for a position in D.C. two weeks ago. We’ve been understaffed and desperately in need of another clerk.”

One of the clerks in the room, a freckle-faced girl who looked like she’d just graduated college, nodded emphatically, but didn’t say anything.

The interview was quick. We discussed my time at college, and all of my practical law experience since passing the Bar Exam.

“When can you start?” the judge asked.

I blinked at her. “Um. I’m actually free to start any time.”

“Good, good. We’ll begin on the paperwork for your position. Assuming you pass the background check and drug test, can you start next Monday?”

I felt my stomach drop. “I can start Monday, sure. But… I wasn’t aware a drug test was required.”

The other clerk cleared her throat. “Judge Rivendale, the Circuit Court hasn’t required drug tests since marijuana was legalized in Illinois in 2020.”

“Oh, right. My mistake,” the judge said. “Just the background check, then.”

“Not that I wouldn’t have passed one!” I quickly added. “I’m just eager to start as soon as possible and don’t want any red tape to slow it down.”

I filled out paperwork for the next hour, then drove home feeling dazed. I was going to be working for a judge!

My first instinct was to celebrate—preferably with Theo, or Landon, or Austin. But we had agreed to a week of silence so we could all clear our heads, and I didn’t want to break that on the very first day. Instead, I got dinner with my brother Jack that night.

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