Am I really going to pretend I’m someone else like this?
Zahra: And I see why he hired you.
Yeah, I am.
Zahra: I’m nothing but smooth if I do say so myself.
I smirk. This is what I’ve been waiting for because I knew she was too good to be true.
Zahra: In case you missed the subtle clue, this is the moment I proposition you.
Me: I don’t think you considered how that sounded.
My text earns me a GIF of someone laughing into their coffee mug. I’m so used to people laughing on cue that I forgot what it’s like to genuinely entertain someone.
My phone rattles in my hand.
Zahra: So how do you feel about us establishing a partnership of sorts?
My response is instantaneous.
Me: No.
Zahra: Come on. You haven’t even heard my proposal yet.
Me: Sorry. My bank doesn’t accept Monopoly money.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. How lame is that?
Somehow my comment gets me a trio of laughing emojis.
Zahra: You’re kind of funny.
Me: I don’t think I’ve been called funny in my life.
I groan as I read the text a second time. I’m making my alter ego into a complete loser, much like my normal self.
Zahra: That’s kind of weird, Scott. Maybe you need to find new friends who appreciate your brand of humor.
Friends? What friends? The higher anyone climbs up the ladder of success, the harder it is to relate to anyone below. Maybe that’s the reason why I enjoy talking to Zahra. It’s not because of her specifically, but rather the idea of letting loose and being myself.
Zahra: So scratch the idea of Monopoly money. I’ll do you one better. I’m willing to pay with food, booze, or whatever it is you like.
Before I have a chance to think up another response, her next text lights up my phone.
Zahra: Are high-quality crayons considered valuable currency in your department? I have a coupon for our local craft store that I borrowed from my mom.
Something in my chest tightens, and although it’s not exactly uncomfortable, it raises an alarm. Yet I don’t heed the warning as I send another message.
Me: How does one borrow a coupon?
Zahra: Well, when you put it that way…consider it a donation.
Is she even for real? And more importantly, why am I smiling at my phone? I wipe the grin from my face and grind my molars together.
Me: Can’t help you. I’m busy with work.
Good. Get out of this before it’s too late.
Zahra: Oh. Right. I understand. Rowan mentioned how the Animators are working hard on some new movies. Are you a part of that?
There’s a weird feeling in my gut that has nothing to do with whatever I ate. I’m not sure why it happens, but everything tells me to avoid it.
Me: I’ve got to go. Ask Rowan for someone else’s help.
There’s a sense of finality to my words that I hope translates through text. I raise the volume on the TV to drown out the thoughts in my head.
My phone vibrates against my thigh a couple of minutes later.
Zahra: I’ll be back with a better offer tomorrow once I sort everything out.
Me: Don’t go selling your kidney.
Fuck me. It’s like I have no control over myself around her.