Page 19 of You've Got Male

Evie’s heart flip-flopped. Not that she thought some guy asking for her by name was creepy, but because the only people who asked for her by name were suppliers and vendors. Who were likely looking for their overdue money.

Evie watched her daughter storm out, then looked up at the ceiling to blink away the tears. She felt her mom’s arms wrap around her, pulling her in for a warm and comforting hug.

Evie held on, burying her nose in her mom’s hair andbreathing in the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5 and simpler times.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Moira said softly.

Evie pulled back. “Then why does it feel like I’m lying to her?”

“Because you know that she can’t stay mad forever, but the truth would haunt her for a lifetime.”

With a jerky nod, Evie smoothed her hands down her leggings. Even the thought of a supplier pulling their business made her palms break out in panicked sweat.

She made her way down the hallway and felt like a dead man walking when she saw the man at the counter. He was dressed in a very official-looking suit, with a mustache and glasses and very official-looking energy.

“May I help you?”

“Evie?” he asked.

“That’s me.”

He looked her up and down and sighed a relieved breath. “You’re even prettier than the video.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m Sam.” He held out a bundle of pencils. Pink and red with freshly sharpened, pointy tips. “And these are for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I knew I should have just opted for flowers, but my mom said a bouquet of sharpened pencils would be romantic. Prove that I’m a good listener, which I am by the way. Communication is the key to successful relationships. Wouldn’t you say?”

If that were the case, then Sam must struggle with relationships because he was talking but not a word was making sense. “I’m a little lost here.”

“You’re Evie, the You’ve Got Male girl, right? The one off ClickByte?” ClickByte was a social media app where people uploaded videos about anything and everything. Weird thingwas, Evie didn’t even have an account, so why was he bringing it up?

When Evie didn’t answer, he pulled out his phone and navigated to the ClickByte app and a few swipes later there was Evie, in Technicolor, talking about her ideal man.

“Okay, if I were to accept a date from a man, he’d have to be kind, funny, reliable, know his way around a kitchen.”

“And the bedroom?”

“For sure the bedroom. My monthly battery budget is insane. And it would be nice to put on some silk and lace for someone other than myself.” She laughed. “He’d have to be gentle but all man and funny.”

“You already said funny.”

“Because it’s important. If he can’t laugh at himself or the chaos of life, there’s no way he’ll fit into mine.”

Sam seemed neither funny nor the kind of man who could give her an orgasm. He looked as if he’d talk her right to sleep. No, he was not Evie’s type—if she had a type. Which she did not. The closest “type” she had was F O X, her battery-operated boyfriend who was the undefeated champion of the World of Os.

“Where did you get this?”

Sam looked confused. “On ClickByte. I thought about messaging, but you know what they say about the early bird and all that. My favorite video is the one of you twerking in the kitchen to Britney Spears.”

“There’s more than one?” she croaked.

“Oh, a new one is posted every day.”

Evie looked down the counter to Julie, who was smiling, and Evie shot her a look that could make Bundy confess and beg for mercy. Julie’s smile just widened.

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