Page 12 of The Fake Dating War

Leo walks over to my desk. He waits while I finish my task. A few minutes later, I grab his phone, the one he’s been holding out for me so patiently.

“Your dating profile is optimized,” he says.

I thumb through it quickly. “These are… old photos.”

My hair is out, cascading down my back in perfect waves, bathed in molten sunlight in this selfie by the beach. There are designer sunglasses perched on my head, and I’ve got expertly applied make-up on. In another photo, I’ve got on a slit-dress that practically showcases my whole healthily tanned leg. In that photo, I’m surrounded by college friends who join me in posing the exact same way, with our backs arched for a maximum bum popping silhouette. We’re not fake-laughing, but really laughing. I remember that moment. Someone had cracked a champagne bottle open, and the froth had gone everywhere.

“You haven’t taken new pictures of yourself. Did you want to come over tonight for a photoshoot?”

I can’t. I’m driving back to work, parking in the lot, and recruiting again. Even though I’m insanely ahead of Coleman’s portfolio on the scoreboard, I can’t stop myself from widening the gap,just in case.

“Sorry, I can’t,” I say, ignoring the flare of guilt inside me. It isn’t the first time Leo has invited me to hang out, and I keep turning him down. I can’t afford outside dinners, and inviting him over to my place is not an option, because nobody can see where I live. I couldn’t bear it if they did.

He sighs. “If I didn’t take so many creeper photos of you working beside me all the time, Wyatt wouldn’t think you actually exist.”

“What creeper photos?”

“Yes, what creeper photos?” he parrots.

I groan.

He grins. “Back to the profile. Don’t worry about that. People catfish all the time.”

“How? You promise one thing, and then what? Show up looking like another? Who wouldn’t walk away?”

I feel Leo appraise me up and down. My muscles lock up. The cafeteria incident has stuck to me since it happened. Every morning I can’t avoid what I look like in the mirror now. I’ve come to realize most of my clothes are frayed, faded, and linty. I’ve got the closet of someone I don’t want to be.

“You don’t have to be nice,” I say to him when he keeps quietly studying me. I’m pretending it doesn’t matter, and if I pretend hard enough, it won’t.

“This isn’t me being nice.” Leo shuffles some papers away from my desk, so he can perch on the walnut edge. At this angle, he’s facing me. “A good face-mask and some better clothes—” His expression softens. “Or not. Who cares since you’re great. The day my desk got assigned to this cubicle was the best moment of my life. Your heart is bigger than anyone I know.”

I reach over and squeeze his knee. At the same time, Finder pings again. I really need to tell Leo to turn the notification sound down!

He takes his phone back from me to see if it’s a match. From his lack of reaction, I know it’s not. The pings have been push notifications, poking us to upgrade to a premium version of the app. Real soul-crushing for the confidence that realization was.

Leo puts the phone away. “No one is going to run from you. You give men too much credit. The promise of fucking is a very powerful motivator for us.”

“Hey!” I hiss. “I didn’t say I would sleep with this person.”

“How about a good tuggie?” He keeps his hand down low so no one else can see. Then he mimics a jerking motion.

At my very offended expression, he grins. “We don’t have many options. Use your hands. I’m not saying he has to enter you.”

This is my life. Discussingtuggies.

“Go away.” I usemyhands to bat Leo away. “I have to get back to work, and you are distracting me.”

Even with my secret forty-five million portfolio, I can’t relax. What if Coleman is landing a proper whale right now? Not super likely since they are so rare, and the largest one was landed by Mr.Davies when he first started this business seven years ago, but still. I can’t stop hedging my bets. The roof above my head is at stake with this bonus. It decides whether I sleep properly at night.

Leo slides off my desk. “This visit has been nice. When will I see you again?”

“Find me someone to bring to my sister’s wedding, and we’ll huddle around your desk for ten minutes next time.”

He shivers. “You spoil me.”

For the next two hours, I work without a break. Then I get up, only so I can refill my coffee. The two-minute walk isn’t enough to stretch my cramped muscles. It feels as if my body is ruined these days. I’m stuck in the same position—at the office and then at the parking lot—for hours. Tell me it’s going to be worth it. It has to be. At this point, I’m barely treading the exhaustion I feel crowding in on me. If I pause to look down at my hands, I’ll see they are shaking.

When I get back to my desk, I see Leo’s face glued to his phone. He’s on Finder for me again. Why am I okay with him taking care of this for me? He promised me he had time, but also I wouldn’t know where to start. Dating apps exploded after I got with Harry. I have no idea how to put myself out there, and me fumbling for a week without help isn’t going to land me a date in time.

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