Page 15 of Not My Fault

Without thinking about it, or forcing it, I’m blushing and smiling goodbye. In a daze, I walk to the car and get in. What the hell was wrong with me? It’s like Gus put some kind of a magical spell on me. I know better than that, but somehow, I forgot how good it felt just to be held by someone. But the thought of Gus’s wink and their extra-long hug lingers in a way that makes my body buzz.

I needed to get home and use my vibrator. I can’t be out in life right now while I feel like this. Trying to do the math in my head, I can’t remember the last time I got laid. If I were smart, I would’ve hooked up with someone before I got into a six-month long commitment with someone. But here I am doing without thinking. I’ll have to make sure my vibrator is charged at alltimes for the upcoming months. Or I’ll be radiating this energy every time my fake partner touches me.

By the time the driver drops me off at home, I’m racing to the bedroom to take care of this. The last thing I need is to be so stupidly horny that I make a move on my fake partner and ruin the whole thing. Our first and most important rule is that we can’t go falling for each other. Surely, that will happen or at least become complicated if we hook up.

EIGHT

Gus

For the second time in my life, I made headlines for hugging a woman. It’s not as huge as it seems, but you’d think I learned how to cure cancer or something. The fact that I called her babe even made it into most of the news outlets. I was being named the ‘unnamed, hot and sweet tattoo artist girlfriend’ of LULY. I didn’t love the girlfriend part of it, but it was understandable. Emily was an out and proud lesbian, so of course she was to be assumed to be dating a woman. As long as Emily knew how I liked to be referred to, I was fine with it.

Today was supposed to be our first public outing as a couple, and I was nervous as fuck. She had gone on the podcast and said I was her partner. She had put everything into motion for our plan, and it was going fine so far. It was working well for me too; I had Cari asking to see me. She wouldn’t come right out and ask me about Emily, but I knew she was dying for details. I kept her out of the loop, being coy with my replies and saying I was busy. I had a chat with her about how I’m seeing how things go with someone, and I think they’re getting serious. She was completely shocked, and I can tell she was jealous too, but she tried not to make that part so obvious. She said she understood, and shewould be around if things didn’t work out. But in the meantime, she made it clear she wanted to stay friends. Of course, she winked when she said that part, so I don’t know exactly what it means. But she’s been more on than off so I’m not complaining.

Emily asked to meet me in Brooklyn—she said she never gets the chance to go because of work. But she managed to convince her manager it was important for her image. I’m standing next to this cute little bakery right off Dumbo. It’s a little touristy, but it isn’t bad for the middle of the day. I’m looking around for her when I spot two tufts of blonde hair and a blur of pink. Sure enough, Emily is walking down the street. She has two bodyguards behind her in all black and sunglasses. Her hair is in these bun-looking things on the top of her head with two curls in the front of her face. She’s wearing a pink crop top that she has tied up to expose the edges of the bottom of her new tattoo. Her legs are mostly covered by a black floral skirt except for a sliver of her leg when she walks. I told her to wear comfortable shoes, so I was relieved to see her in a pair of flat black boots.

“Hey!” Emily waves big and smiles as she sees me.

“Hey, babe.” It feels weird but I guess it’s something I’d have to get used to it.

“These are my bodyguards, Bill and Rob. They will be following us but not close. The label insisted they come along,” Emily explains.

“Boys.” I nod. They keep stoic expressions like those guards at Buckingham palace.

“I’m so excited. I never get the full day off.” Emily smiles.

“Happy to show you around. I’ve lived in Brooklyn for more than a decade.”

“Wow, you’re like a transplant New Yorker, then? Where did you move from?” Emily asks.

“This tiny town in New Jersey, I prefer not to think about,” I joke. “I’ve lived in New York almost longer than I did that town.”

“Got it. I was born in a small town too, in Seaside, Oregon. No one ever talks about it. They mention Portland and I’m like yeah, like an hour from there.” She laughs.

We start walking and sure enough the guards keep a distance. I lead her toward the waterfront; I had set up a picnic over there with a perfect view of the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Then you get it.” I laugh.

“Oh my gosh! Is someone having a picnic? This is too cute!” She gasps as we walk up the steps and see the picnic I’ve set up.

“We are.” I smile proudly; I was a little nervous of my idea but now I’m feeling relieved.

“We are?!” Emily gasps and I nod.

She walks over to the light blue sheet and takes everything in. I have a literal picnic basket, an array of snacks, and a bottle of champagne. Emily takes a seat, and I sit down across from her.

“Wow, this view is amazing.” Emily looks ahead of her. The water is extra blue since it’s early in the season. It looks extra clean today. The Brooklyn Bridge is bustling, as usual, and the water crashes into the rocks at the shore nearby.

“I like coming here to draw sometimes,” I say.

“This is so cool, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“We’re dating, just because it’s not…you know, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t pull out all the stops like you’re my girl.” I wink.

“Well, consider me impressed.” Emily smiles. She glances behind me and then looks back at me. I’m about to ask when she mouths the word ‘paparazzi’. Wow, that didn’t take long at all.

“So, tell me more about you. What can I learn that isn’t in the media?” I ask.

“Hmm, well, I always wanted to be a fashion designer. When I was a kid, I had a sketch book full of ideas and I thought about going for it, but I’m a terrible artist and a good singer, so I chose this route instead.” She shrugs. I pull out some of the food fromthe basket and take note of what she chooses to eat. Emily takes the cheese and nuts but leaves the crackers alone.

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