Page 1 of Love Me Like It's Real
ONE
HAYWORTH
Fools. That's what they all are. Fools of love.
I turn around and check them out. There are a few, as usual. There are always these kinds of fools wherever I go. They primp themselves up, stand a little straighter like a peacock showing off its tail and search for their fated mate, their soulmate, their Prince Charming.
It makes me sick.
When will people realize love isn't real? We’d all collectively be happier as a species if we accepted our primal nature and left love where it belonged. Down the toilet.
“Another beer?” The bartender makes me spin back around to face him.
I take a deep breath. “Sure,” I say and he walks off to the beer tap. “Actually, I’ll change that to an old-fashioned. With a cherry if you have it.”
I need something strong to get me through the night.
As I wait for my next drink I whip out my phone and scan the crowd, trying to spot the two guys in my photos.
I see the victim first—a small young man who’s far more vivacious than he looks.
Trey.
He’s chatting with a pair of women and taking small, measured sips of his tall, dark drink. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would be a player, but if I’ve learned anything over the years of being a dating specialist, looks can be far more than deceiving. Looks can be catastrophic.
I try to catch his eye, to see how he reacts, to get a better idea of who he is and what he likes, but it turns out I don’t need it, because another man does it for me. He walks past him and Trey’s jaw practically drops as he glares at him, drool running down his chin.
Well, not really, but it wouldn’t look out of place if therewasdrool. The two girlfriends bump each other’s shoulders and once the other man is out of sight they all turn to each other and giggle like school children.
It’s amazing how someone’s whole demeanor can change in an instant when faced with their weakness.
Oh Trey, Trey, Trey. Already showing your true colors, aren’t you?
I tut to myself as the bartender slides my drink toward me. I take a sip as I follow the path of the man who’d caught Trey’s attention. He’s tall, muscular, dressed in tight-fitting chinos and a tucked-in shirt that makes his arms look ginormous.
Fun-fucking-tastic.
This job should be a piece of cake. Although sometimes I wish I could change the objective of said job, like now. But what’s the point? All relationships are doomed to fail anyway. And sometimes we have to learn the lesson the hard way. That’s what Bryan needs. He’s been obsessed with Trey for so long it’s turned him into this pathetic needy person. If pushing Trey toward him can finally get Bryan to realize what a dick Trey is maybe he’d claw himself out of this lovesick hole he’s dug for himself.
Or he’ll call me in a couple of years, when he and Trey are engaged and ask me to seduce his fiancé so he can test him.
Either way, this relationship is doomed. All relationships are doomed. Because love is a scam.
Before I get more riled up, I spot Bryan entering the establishment and try to catch his eye. He does a quick scan of the bar before he sees me and I make sure to glance Trey’s way. Bryan nods and walks toward Trey, passes him by and…
Three…two…one.
Bryan trips a few feet from the table before he composes himself and makes his way toward me. But not before catching the attention of our victim who’s got his eyes pinned on us as I rise to greet Bryan.
I shake his hand, squeeze his arm and allow my hand to linger, and lean forward to kiss his cheek but take a pause to inhale his cologne.
I stay frozen for a while. I want to make sure the image is burned behind Trey’s eyelids before I offer Bryan a seat and beckon the bartender close.
“So? What now?” Bryan asks me as he turns his back to Trey.
“Now?” I look at Bryan with the biggest smile I can muster and blink at him as if he’s my world. “Now you just sit there and let me do my job.” I bite my lip and turn to the bartender.
Bryan gives him his order and when the bartender goes off I keep staring at the mirror behind him.
