Page 34 of The County Fair Queen

"Who is he thanking?" I said.

Rivers leaned in close, his breath warm against my cheek. "He watched a documentary about dairy farms a few months back. It shook him up pretty badly. He's weaning himself off meat, but in the meantime, he likes to give thanks to all the lost lives sitting on the table."

"Are lemons animals now? Did I miss that memo?"

Beau giggled, reaching across the table and gently slapping my hand. "No, silly. But they come off a tree, and trees are alive." The mystery item from his pocket turned out to be a small bottle with the word 'rose' written on it. He unscrewed the lid, mouthing'one, two,'and then'three,'as each drop fell in. Using his straw to stir in the flavoring, he sighed, meeting my gaze. "You'll have to forgive me, Mr. Firecracker. Trying to get lemon rosewater in this city is like trying to find a pair of pretty shoes at Foote's Feet."

I gaped at him, and then at Rivers. "I adore this child."

Rivers laughed as Beau's cheeks turned scarlet. "He's pretty great, isn't he—Ouch! Son of a gun, did you just kick me?"

"Stop embarrassing me, Daddy," Beau ordered, before turning to me. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, folding his hands together and setting them on the table. He looked like a five-to-ten-year-old business executive, ready to hear some revolutionary sales pitch. Unfortunately, Rivers and I hadn't taken much time to perfect our pitch, but if we were going to do this thing, we needed to do it now.

"You watch reality television, right?" I said, remembering his mention of it earlier.

"Real Housewives," he verified. "The ones from New York. Beverly Hills is good, too."

"I don't know if that's really age appropriate," I said to Rivers. "Listen, kid; it's like this. This show of mine is—You see, the thing is—I mean, the thing about the thing—"

"The thing about the thing?" Beau asked, furrowing his brow.

"And what a thing it is." I nodded in agreement.

"Daddy?" Beau questioned.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Is Mr. Firecracker having a heart attack? Only, he's sweating real bad, and he looks like he's about to cry." He hoisted himself up onto his knees in the booth and leaned forward until the tips of our noses were touching. "Mr. Firecracker? Mr. Firecracker, can you hear me? Are you dying? I'd really like it if you wouldn't die. I saw a pig die once when I was helping out at Mr. Monte's farm and it was real sad. Please don't die, Mr. Firecracker."

"Of course, I'm not dying. Don't be ridiculous," I said, leaning back. Unfortunately, he didn't let that stop him. He just leaned with me rather than away from me. He brought his finger to my cheek and gave it a poke.

"I think you might be. All the color's gone from your face. You're whiter than the tablecloth," he told me, lifting the cloth and shaking it. The kid is clearly unhinged, because the action sent his glass of lemon rosewater airborne before landing directly in my lap. I closed my eyes and breathed before blinking them open slowly. Beau's mouth hung open, his eyes bulging. "Please don't fire me, Mr. Firecracker. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

I squirmed in my seat. "Consider this your final written warning."

"Don't worry, Firecracker. I've got some clothes across the street in my office. We can get you changed once we head out."

"I'm not wearing your dad-khakis, Rivers. I'm fine."

"What is it you want us to help you with, Mr. Firecracker?" Beau asked, clearly trying to distract me from my wet lap.

"Beau," Rivers said. "What Phillip's trying to say is that I've agreed to help him with the show. They think it might help if there's a love story on it. He was hoping it'd be alright if he dated me while he filmed his show."

Beau's eyes widened. "You want to date my daddy?"

"Pretend!" I said, trying to steady the speed of my racing heart. "Pretend to date him. It's not real. And only if you're on board."

Beau sat in silence, weighing the request. After an uncomfortable beat of silence, he nodded to himself. "I…" He closed his eyes, and then the strangest thing happened. The corner of his lip curled upward. "This will help you?"

"You don't know how much, kid."

He turned toward his father and grinned. "We get to help Phillip Firecracker, Daddy."

After trying to pay the check, only to have my hand slapped away by Rivers before he handed his card to Minnie, we shimmied out of the booth and made our way toward the door, Fudge trailing slowly behind us. "Just remember," I said, grabbing the handle. "It isn't real, but we need to pretend like it is. Do you think you can do that?"

"I played Toto inThe Wizard of Ozlast year. My teacher said I was the best daw-gone dachshund she'd ever seen. I'm a real good actor, Phillip. Just you wait and see." He knocked my hand away and pressed both of his palms against the door, shoving it open. As the kid skipped down the sidewalk, Fudge trotting quickly behind him, Rivers slid his hand into mine. His brown skin practically glowed compared to the far too pale shade of my own. Realizing the cameras were catching our every movement, I nuzzled up next to him.

"Is this okay?" Rivers said. "Are we at the hand-holding stage of our fake relationship yet?" I wanted to tell him it wouldalwaysbe too soon to hold hands with him, but I pushed down that thought and allowed it.

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