Page 11 of Boyfriend Maintenance

Finally, Becca speaks, “Emmy needs a fake boyfriend for some upcoming family events. I happen to think you’d be perfect for the job.” She’s not even paying attention to Emmy anymore.

“A fake boyfriend,” I repeat.

“Roger that.” Becca looks serious, but I’m not sure if this isn’t just a joke at my or Emmy’s expense. The uneasy feeling is pissing me off.

I glare at Becca and then do the same to Emmy. “Are you guys fucking with me right now?”

“Uh—” Emmy stammers her reply, but Becca cuts her off.

“She really needs a date.”

“No, I don’t. It wouldn’t work anyway,” Emmy replies. She is wringing her hands. Now I’m just annoyed. I don’t have time for this shit. Stupid games of the rich little Upper West Side princesses.

I bend down to grab my toolbox. “I don’t have time for this.”

“She’ll pay you,” Becca sings.

“I’m not an escort.”

“We are not suggesting that at all.” Emmy takes a step toward me.

Becca huffs at Emmy’s attempt to placate me. “Think about it as a vacation from your normal, boring life. You get to wine and dine with the fat cats and pretend to be someone you’re not. Pocket a shit ton of cash and be on your way. Seems like a no-brainer to me.”

I continue to glare at Becca, having no idea what to say. Shaking my head, I walk to the door. I’m not even going to reply to that. Clearly, Emmy isn’t going to attempt to dig them both out of the hole they just dug. I get about a step away from the front door when I remember the giant-ass Skee-Ball machine in the corner of their apartment. While I would normally ask if I could play a round or two, I’m feeling vindictive.

“I know for a fact you didn’t get that machine approved by management. You’re looking at a fucking-hefty fine for having this up here. I should probably report you for it,” I threaten, looking over my shoulder at the two socialites.

Becca rolls her eyes. Emmy on the other hand looks panicked.

“I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars to be my date and keep your mouth shut about the Skee-Ball machine.” The words are out of Emmy’s mouth before I get my hand on the doorknob.

I slowly turn and look at her. Did she really just offer me ten grand?

“Four dates. Two thousand each plus an additional two not to mention the machine.” She stands her ground.

Oh shit.She’s for real with this.

“You don’t have to pretend to be anyone you’re not. But I don’t want to face my family alone. My brother’s getting married, and I need someone who’s gonna have my back.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. She’s clearly got issues. “You’re fucking insane. Both of you.” With that I turn on my heel and leave.

Still mentally chewing on the craziness I was just subjected to, I step out of the elevator. Just then, crazy Sara, from my botched date the other night, walks through the building’s entrance.

Shit.

She’s looking down at her phone, so I make a beeline for the massive potted plant to the left of the elevators. Normally I wouldn’t stoop to this level of ridiculousness, but I don’t want to engage in any kind of conversation with her. So, I hide.

I fucking hide from her.

I duck down behind the plant as she walks past. She waits briefly for the elevator doors to open then she steps in. Once I hear them slide shut, I peek through the greenery. She’s nowhere in sight, so I stand to my full height. Brushing off my jeans, I shift my gaze around the lobby to make sure no one saw me.

Looks like I’m in the clear.

Phew.

What is it with this building? All of a sudden, I’ve found myself surrounded by crazy women. First Crazy Sara and now the girls on the fourteenth floor. If the craziness keeps popping up, it might be time I update my resume.

Hours later, when I return to my apartment, I can’t stop thinking about Emmy’s proposition. There is a slip in my mailbox from the super, letting me know my application for the shower renovation I requested has been denied. My shower is causing some kind of leak. I’m not sure of the damage it’s already caused, but I’m worried if it’s not addressed sooner rather than later, we could have a major issue on our hands. The unit just under mine may end up with a leak of their own, which then meanstheirunit will be at risk for mold and a sunken-in ceiling. The project isn’t extremely difficult. It’s one I could manage on my own. But it’s the cost that could be an issue. We are looking at at least five grand. If I want this fixed, I will have to fix it myself. As in, cover the cost. I’ve already put so much of my own money into this unit.

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