Page 2 of Is This for Real?
“They want you to change it? You don’t look that happy.”
“No. They like the pitch,” Rory says. He flushes. “But his wife groped my butt during our celebratory drinks.”
“She didn’t,” I say, shocked.
“She did. I got this weird vibe from her, but I thought no—she’s got to be about fifty, and my client is right there talking about color schemes—and then, she copped a feel of my butt.”
“While he was there?”
“Yeah, like what the . . . I was afraid I’d lose the pitch right there.” Rory shakes his head in disbelief. “I jumped, which threw her, too. But still, it’s freaking awkward.”
“That’s crazy,” I say. Rory still looks upset. “Did she pinch anybody else’s butt?”
“I didn’t take a poll.” He laughs but then looks serious again. “And we’ve got another client function this Thursday.”
I point at the book. “I know what you need. You need a fake girlfriend to protect you at client functions, like a buffer.”
He stills, staring at me. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“I was joking.” But I feel a little thrill of satisfaction that he likes my idea. He takes off his blue jacket, and he’s wearing a worn T-shirt that does little to hide his washboard stomach.
“Aren’t there any women currently in the running to be a real girlfriend?” I ask.
“No.”
“How is that possible?” This brunch line is not moving. The smell of bacon frying is making me even hungrier.
He just gives me his look of annoyance, which is one eyebrow cocked and a slight shake of his head. “It’s not like you date a lot. Did I miss the memo where you’re dating someone?”
“There wouldn’t be a memo.”
“Your sister would definitely issue a memo.”
I laugh. “A legal memo. To whom it may concern. But seriously, Rory, you’re not usually at a lack for dance partners.”
“I am now. Marie was always asking me, ‘So where do you see this going?’ Which really kills any . . . uh . . . magic." He pauses. "It reminded me of my Dad when he asks, 'and how did that make you feel?'"
His dad is a psychologist who does couples counseling.
"Did you tell her that?"
"I did. That did not go over well." He smiles wryly. "But to be fair to her, I couldn't say 'forever,' so that was that. And Callie . . .” He presses his lips together.
Another couple enters the foyer behind us. Rory and I move closer together to make space for them.
The man kisses the woman on the forehead and looks deep into her eyes. What if Jamie looks like that at his new girlfriend? I feel nauseous.No, that would be good.It would be good if his new girlfriend is his soul mate. Better than watching him with a parade of different women I didn’t merit joining. Jamie wasn’t even willing to try dating me. I probably should have asked him out on a date instead—something less dramatic than saying, “I love you.” But since we’ve known each other since childhood, a “date” didn’t seem necessary. Not when I’ve been in love with him since high school. And somehow, I always thought, at some point, he’d love me back.
“Although I recognize that you don’t believe in magic,” Rory says.
“I never said that,” I say.
“You don’t have to. It’s the way you never discuss it.”
I look up at Rory. “That magical connection can be dangerous.”
“Is that bad?” He gives me a lopsided grin.
“Dangerously devastating if he doesn’t ‘feel the same way.’”Or you lose that person.“Or if it leads to too high expectations.”
