“That will be good. You could bookend the tragic ending with the humiliating beginning.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” I told her. “But I’m committed now, so I guess I’m going to see it through.”
“This doesn’t seem like something you would do, so I’m going to guess that Marco Kimball is a hard man to say no to.”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. She had no idea.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said. “So what now? Am I going to be getting a fake invitation from you inviting me to an imaginary wedding?”
“No, now we’re going to go on actual dates as we pretend to fall in love. He thinks it’ll help if we spend time together and know stuff about each other.”
She agreed. “Definitely. It makes me think he’s seen a rom-com or two in his day. You guys absolutely do not want to be answering questions where you give opposite answers. Getting your stories straight is a good idea. I’m against you having real dates, though. You tend to like unobtainable guys, and I don’t know if there’s anyone more unobtainable than Marco Kimball.”
“You think I only like guys who won’t like me back?”
“Sometimes I do.” She sounded so sympathetic that my heart squeezed painfully in response.
Was that true?
While I wanted to argue with her, I couldn’t think of a response to refute it. In my mind, I ran through all the men I’d crushed on and how I hadn’t ever had a real relationship. My crushes usually never crushed back on me.
This was new information that I’d never considered before. I felt the need to examine it, test it, and make my judgment after the first two steps. Right now, though, there was too much to process and so I was going to let my subconscious work on it while I talked about other things.
Catalina cleared her throat and, thankfully, kind of changed the subject. “So when is the first date? Besides today, I mean?”
“Your D&D party, actually. Marco agreed that it would be a good idea for us to show up at an event with a bunch of people from Minx so that the word will spread back to Craig.”
“Smart, smart,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ll do what I can to get the word out.”
“No.” I stopped her. “I mean, yes, tell people Marco and I are dating, but nothing else. Marco didn’t want me to tell anyone, but I said telling you was nonnegotiable. In large part because I knew you would figure it out.”
“You’re right. I would have. And my lips are sealed. I won’t tell anyone.”
I knew I could trust her. “Thank you.”
“Coming to my party as your couple debut . . . that seems significant. Does this mean you’re finally going to roll a character?”
“No, thank you.” I rolled my eyes. We had had this discussion so many times that I could predict what she’d say next.
You like Lord of the Rings; how can you not like D&D?
“I’ll never understand how you can be so obsessed with the Lord of the Rings movies but not want to play D&D.”
Okay, so it wasn’t verbatim but close enough. “They’re not even remotely the same thing. Plus, I prefer being a passive observer rather than an active participant.” The truth of that statement struck me—not just about the game but how it was generally true in my life.
It felt depressing. I added, “It’s going to be stressful enough without trying to play the game, too.”
“I think you’d have fun. But at least you’ll be there when my half-elf bard makes a move on Zhen’s half-ogre barbarian/paladin.”
Her ability to bounce back from a failed relationship never ceased to amaze me. Sometimes I wished I could be more like her and not fall in love with a guy for two years without even really talking to him.
Catalina’s way seemed much better.
I reminded myself that I was doing something now—being an actual active participant. I was going to try to win Craig over for myself.
With Marco’s help.
Again, I had to wonder how Marco was going to view this party. “A half-elf and a half-ogre, huh? At least it won’t be too weird for Marco.”
“I think you two will be bringing the weirdness all on your own.”
“It’s not that weird. Lots of people pretend to date the CEO of their former place of employment in order to get his brother to fall in love with them. Happens every day of the week, I’m sure.”
At that, Catalina laughed, and our conversation shifted to what I would wear. She was pushing for something uncomfortable and tight, while I was leaning toward jeans, tennis shoes, and a hoodie.
As we talked and laughed, it occurred to me that while Catalina had been so concerned that I would fall for Marco, not once did she say that she thought Marco would fall for me.
And that bothered me more than it should have.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The problem with our first official date being two days away was that it gave me plenty of time to overthink and regret my decision. And just how much all of this was not going to work. Catalina was right. It was doomed to fail.
Not only that, but Marco was a bad fake boyfriend. He didn’t pretend to text or call me even once.
Okay, he did text once. It was to ask for Catalina’s address. I sent it to him and then . . . nothing.
I wanted to text him and say, Hey, remember me? The woman you’re depending on to save your company and your brother?
Why did I care so much that he hadn’t reached out?
It was all disconcerting.
I thought a diabolical plan like ours would have more, I don’t know, actual planning. Diabolical or otherwise.
The night of the D&D party, I kept myself busy creating a formulation for a new easy-glide lipstick. Lipsticks had always been my favorite thing to create, given how quickly they could go wrong in so many ways. The powder of eye shadow or blush was often more forgiving. I liked the exactness and precision of lipsticks.
An alarm sounded on my phone, and I realized that I needed to get ready for the party.
Catalina called me a few seconds after, as if she knew I was messing around in my home lab and not getting dressed.
When I picked up, she said, “What are you wearing tonight?”
“I was thinking clothes.”
“Anna! Are you wearing sweatpants right now?”
“No.” Yes.
But she didn’t believe my lie. I’d told Marco I was bad at it. “Are you going to change?” she asked.
“Yes.” Maybe. I liked being comfortable.
“I bet Marco will wear something nice.”
“Probably. Because so far, all I’ve seen him in is a suit, but that seems like overkill for D&D.”
“Poor you. I bet his best look is out of a suit,” she teased.
“I don’t know. His suits are pretty fire.” I was a fan.
My bedroom door was open, and my grandpa stuck his head in. “Whose suits are on fire?”
“Catalina? I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”
I heard her call out, “Spit out your gum!”
She knew me too well. I spit my gum into the trash and turned my attention to my grandfather. “No one’s suits are on fire. It’s just an expression.”
“Oh.” He blinked behind his spectacles, and it had always reminded me so much of an owl. “I was just reading the newspaper, and there was an article about the death of a local ornithologist.”