Page 15 of Unrealistic Expectations

“And not a single one of my press contacts had any idea who you were dating or how long you were dating them, because I made sure that none of them knew that.” Abby paused, and Galvin wondered what she was trying to get at here. “And your social media is locked down to private—”

“Yeah, but we made an Instagram for the book. You told me I wouldn’t have to let randoms see into my personal life.” Jessica sounded worried.

Abby didn’t respond because she appeared to be lost in thought. She leaned back and looked back and forth between them. Galvin could almost see the calculations she was making fly past her head.

“Abby. No.” Jessica seemed to have figured out what Abby was going to say before he did. Which was why he looked like a deer in headlights when Abby said, “Okay, so you’re going to date Galvin. Publicly.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Jessica said. “He is not my type.” Galvin put his hand on his chest as though she had hit him, and Jessica said, “I am not your type, either. You date Instagram models.” The idea that one little video about his sad dick would make him date a dowdy, uptight, frankly plain-looking psychotherapist who wore cotton panties that came in a three-pack instead of a contraption that started with straps over her tits and ended with a thong was preposterous.

“I’m not sure whether to be relieved or hurt. On the one hand, I’m sort of insulted that you don’t want to date me for PR purposes. On the other hand, I’m kind of relieved that I don’t have to deal with her after leaving here today.” He pointed at Abby, who bared her teeth at him. Then, he leaned closer to Jessica and said, “And, for your information, I’m an equal-opportunity cad.”

Jessica was a little surprised that he was insulted. She would have assumed that it was all relief that their weird night wasn’t going to spin off into a series of weird nights.

“I don’t really like this idea all that much, either,” Abby said. “But it’s not like the old days when we only had to worry about paparazzi. Now, there are gossip podcasts and social media accounts and blind items everywhere.”

“Abby, we don’t need this,” Jessica said. They’d only met once they’d started working together on the book, but they’d grown friendly over the past few months. Abby had said that she’d wanted to work with her ever since she’d seen a YouTube video of Jessica giving a presentation on how adolescent trauma shaped behavior on dating apps.

Abby had reached out to her when she’d seen the announcement that Jessica was writing a dating book. Jessica hadn’t been on board at all, at first. But one night, she’d been alone while Luke was on call and was watching a terribly unqualified dating coach with no credentials giving advice to men on TikTok. It had incensed her so much that she had started jotting her ideas down in a way that wouldn’t have fit into an academic paper that she could present at stodgy conferences.

Abby had then run with the book proposal—setting Jessica up with the editor who’d purchased the book.

And though her friend was a total barracuda when it came to her business, she had the sense to let the idea of fake-dating Galvin percolate with Jessica for a few moments. Jessica used that time to chew on both her croissant and the idea of dating Galvin for PR.

Even if people believed it, how would it make her look? She’d never wanted to be a rehab for broken men—again, too much like her mother—but had dating one who hadn’t seemed to be broken at the time worked out for her? Luke was the most predictable man on earth, until he wasn’t.

“This would be good for your image, Galvin,” Abby continued. “Enough people saw you on that show that I would imagine dating is not going so well for you right now? The idea that you could go from dating a no-talent trust-fund baby who spends hours a day Photoshopping selfies so that her BBL pops to dating an actual, human woman with a job would probably make your dating life easier—after a carefully orchestrated, amicable breakup.”

“That’s exactly why no one would believe that he’s dating me, Abby. He’s a hot architect guy who dated Kennedy Mower, and I’m boring, bland, and I wear granny panties.” Jessica hadn’t meant to put a voice to her insecurities. That helped no one. But she didn’t want this to go any further, and Abby was delusional if she thought that Galvin would agree to being seen as her boyfriend.

It was one thing for him to humor her last night, but he wouldn’t actually want to spend real time with her.

Galvin held up his hand and said something that shocked Jessica to her core. “Hey, you’re talking about my friend there,” he said, looking at her. “And you are anything but boring. Reserved? Yes. Boring, no. And I happen to like your granny panties very much.”

Jessica gasped. She was embarrassed enough about their little pantsless romp the night before, and she had hoped to get away from this exchange without Abby finding out about the details of their hookup.

“Well, he smells like bourbon and coochie, so I assumed he’s seen your panties.”

“He didn’t get anywhere near my coochie,” Jessica said, a weak line of defense if there ever was one. “And I haven’t even seen his dick, so don’t you dare ask if it was sad in a crowded restaurant.”

Abby shook her head and stared at both of them as though they had disappointed her greatly by not having a one-night stand. “Listen, if you want to cease being undatable to anyone with a social media account,” she said, looking at Galvin, “and you want to earn out your book advance”—she looked at Jessica—“you’ll pretend to date for the next three to four months.”

“That’s a long time,” Jessica said, which was ironic considering the length of the relationship that had just ended. But it felt like a long time to keep up a ruse of being in love with Galvin, without falling in love with him for real. Because she knew that she was always so close to becoming her mother, to becoming someone who cried on a therapist’s couch about some man who had done her wrong instead of the one handing out the tissues.

Galvin chuckled, and that got her attention. “You were in a relationship for over a decade with the least interesting man in the world, and you make a couple months with me sound like a life sentence without the possibility of parole.”

“You can’t possibly be okay with this suggestion.” Jessica refused to believe that Galvin would participate in anything so farcical. “I can’t think of any two people who don’t fit more than we don’t fit.”

“C’mon, there are members of biker gangs and gun-toting, toothless insurrectionists that are less desirable than me.”

“I wasn’t talking about how desirable you are, Galvin. You know what you look like. But that doesn’t mean that people would believe that someone who looks like you... who has everything going for them the way that you have going for you... would be interested in dating someone like me.”

His face softened then, and Jessica immediately regretted spelling things out for him. She hated the look of pity he gave her. “Wow, I can’t believe that people come to you to solve their self-esteem problems.”

Abby, who had been uncharacteristically silent, said, “Those who can’t do, teach.”

“Yes, that’s exactly why I can’t date, fake or otherwise. I never claimed to be an expert on doing dating—just what men shouldn’t do in dating.”

---