Page 25 of The Fake Dating War

“Anyway,” I say. “Last summer when I visited my parents, you know what requirements they had for me?”

“Your mom is okay with a lowly lawyer now?”

“They said, Reema, do you have a man?Anyman will do.”

“He doesn’t have to be Indian?”

“I kid you not, the only requirement is for this man to possess a penis. I’m fairly sure it doesn’t even have to be a working penis as long as it’s able to function long enough to spurt some seed inside me that can take root and bloom into a grandchild. Ideally more than once, but they can’t be too picky since my eggs are now aging.”

Leo coughs “Spurting? I don’t think I’ll finish my lunch today. Thank you for that.”

Wyatt is a chef. He packs Leo the best lunch. He’ll finish it.

My computer chants its safe word again. Just in time, my inbox beeps. When I see it’s not a new client lead, but my sister, I’m disappointed. The total cost of her wedding is over a hundred thousand dollars, which I shudder to admit is typical for many Big Indian Weddings, but she’s been asking me to print name tags and other miscellaneous wedding items to cut costs, as if that will make a dent.

Problem is, she’s sent me this big file of things, and I don’t have time to read what needs to be printed and what does not. So I’ve been chunking off and printing it all, a few pages at a time, so hopefully Mr.Davies doesn’t notice. Since our client software seems to be clinging to life-support at the moment, I go ahead and blindly send a few more things to our office printer. Too late, I see I’ve incorrectly printed off her guest list, along with the illustrations she needs.

Pushing myself out of the chair, I stretch and swear I hear my joints creak. I should probably go get those pages before anyone else sees them.

Leo sighs. He sees me trying to get the crick out of my neck.

“You give this job too much,” he chides. “After this bonus silliness is over, please take a break. I mean this as the spectacularly supportive work colleague slash best friend who loves you, but you need rest. I’ve never seen you so tired. Don’t take work with you when you go to your sister’s wedding. Rest, recover, and rejuvenate, Reema.”

“I’ll try,” I say, blatantly knowing I’m lying. There’s only a week left until the bonus is decided. My laptop will be coming along with me. I won’t have access to all our programs, but I can work on some of the tasks using the ones I do have.

Leo frowns at me. Maybe I’m not as convincing as I think I am.

“I should get those print-outs,” I say, “before someone sees I’m using office resources for wedding crap.”

I’m about to leave when my inbox beeps again.

Maybe one quick glance?—

It’s not my sister.

It’s Moby Dick. A client this firm has been trying to sign since Mr.Davies first opened the office. He goes between agents, pretending to be interested in our services without ever committing to anything. No one believes anyone will sign him, but I’ve been entertaining his questions for the last year. It’s been miserable since his response time is so damn slow, and he keeps asking the same questions about our consulting prices, but today he’s… wanting a phone call? That’snew.Could he be ready to commit?

I dive back into my chair. I need to catch him while he’s still free, otherwise I might lose him again for weeks.

Other agents in the office might think Moby Dick is not worth their time, but you never know how much revenue a business is going to commit. Sometimes a five-minute conversation lands you everything, and sometimes a year of answering tedious questions does. And it all adds up. That’s why I don’t understand when my coworkers only worry about hunting big fish or aim foolishly for a whale, which is basically a unicorn for how rare they are. It’s much better to bag twenty smaller fish and add them all up to juice your numbers.

Coleman and I share the same philosophy. That’s what makes him so dangerous.

If I hadn’t been working evenings, he’d get that bonus. The last week off for my sister’s wedding would have killed my chances. But I’ve cheated the game to win.

For some reason, I look away from my computer and at where he sits. Forest green reflects back at me. He’s watching me as if he’s been listening for a while, but that’s not possible. His headphones are on. He can’t have heard anything, but he’s blatantly watching me as if he has.

A body hiccup goes off inside me, if hiccups are warm and swoop around your belly.

Leo speaks, pulling my attention away.

He’s hustled and found me three dates in a row. One of them has to work, since I only have three days until the wedding starts.

I tell Leo I’m so happy and we’ll strategize more later.

After I call Moby Dick.

17

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