Page 15 of Eye Candy

“I don’t know if I can…” I hesitated.

“It’s easy Caroline. Just be Teddy one more time, twirl your hair and flutter your lashes a bit, get Chase Sanford panting over you. It’s not a big deal. This is what you do, isn’t it?”

It was not. But of course Gerard thought that.

“Chase Sanford is an uptight prick,” he continued. “If you can get him to show everyone his hypocrisy by fawning overyou, I’ll make it worth your while. Just one more time, Caroline.”

“What’s your obsession with these brothers, anyway?” I asked.

I had three theories:

The Sanford brothers had skipped out on their Dragonfly tab,

They’d left a scathing Yelp,

They’d gone to the Dragonfly in Joe’s wild days and he’d made a dick of himself, probably resulting in property damage and significant personal insult to Gerard, and Chase had tried to paper over his brother’s mess by keeping the whole fiasco quiet. Gerard, like most of us in his position, was still seething to see rich people who had wronged him enjoy success without consequence. So, when a conveniently butt-chinned desperado such as myself crossed Gerard’s path, he’d seized the opportunity for petty revenge.

I was betting on number three. And honestly? Queen shit. There was a burly in Melbourne who was loud with her beliefs that burlesque should only be for thin, cis, able-bodied women. She was as wrong as her acts were boring. But because the world was unfair, she booked gig after gig and was a highly sought-after performer. If an opportunity to publicly humiliate that troll ever fell into my lap, I’d seize it.

But I knew Gerard wouldn’t answer my question.

Sure enough, he said, “That’s above your pay grade, Kiwi.”

I rolled my eyes.

“This is the easiest thirty grand you’ll ever make,” he continued. “Just show everyone that the man known for his preachy little blogs is a hypocrite, then you can have the career you’ve always dreamed of.”

“I don’t know …”

“Yes, you do. Now, I’ve got to go.” Like a TV villain, Gerard didn’t say goodbye, he just hung up.

I sat in the park as the sun fell below the trees and the air cooled, twirling my peonies. I thought about what Chase would say when he learned—as he inevitably would—that I wasn’t Teddy and that I’d been hired to mess with him and his brother because once upon a time they’d pissed off the world’s pettiest club owner.

Another outing as Teddy would be high-risk for me. I’d done well the first time, but all it had taken to trip me up was a handsome, starchy man who looked more carefully and listened more intently than his rich friends.

Butthirty grand.

It wasn’t really a choice.

I could do it. I had to. But I would have to be more disciplined and serious this time. No more eye-fucking, no more obsessing over Chase’s favorite meals. Besides, Chase had a date for this event anyway. He’d told me so. Gerard was wrong, he didn’t have a thing for me.

Really, the task was simple. All I had to do was show up at this thing and be so outrageous Chase couldn’t stop looking at me (because everyone was looking at me), and then that was job done. I’d be sitting pretty with a healthy bank account, and a guaranteed job where I could make real connections, and build a portfolio of work here.

I messaged Gerard and said I’d do it.

The club owner was always notoriously slow to reply to my messages, but this time my phone lit up instantly.

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