“No.”
“He was almost as popular as Noodle the pug.”
Sullivan grabbed the railing like she might fall.
“I don’t mean cut you out as a person,” Kia added quickly. “Just on the channel. I mean, if you wanted, we could pretend to be married forever. You’d look great on my U-Spin account.”
Opal, Nina, and Deja had stopped at the top of the stairs and were watching them.
“Donotput me on your socials,” Sullivan spat.
“Is being seen with me that bad?” Kia’s face radiated hurt.
“I don’t want to be seen online. Period. You’re infinitely better than an off-ramp. But this”—Sullivan’s gesture took in the courthouse and everything else that was wrong with her life right now—“is too much. And being splashed all over social media… that’d be the last straw.”
“Everyone splashes everything all over social media.”
“Just, please, Kia, don’t put me out there like that.”
“Okay. I won’t. I promise.”
To Sullivan’s surprise, Kia sounded absolutely sincere, like she took the request as seriously as Sullivan did because she could tell it mattered to Sullivan.
Nina was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. She fixed Sullivan with a look, the same look she’d given Sullivan when they were kids and Sullivan had broken some rule of play or as teenagers when Sullivan crushed on an obnoxious boy.
“Are you two fighting?” Nina took Sullivan’s arm while glaring at Kia. “I like to see a marriage dissolve as much as the next divorce attorney.” She flicked her other wrist, exhibiting a bracelet full of diamonds. “Make it rain. But I asked Judge Lavigne to waive the three-day waiting period. Marriages are the only fun part of her job. Act like you love Kia so much you cry when she smiles at you.”
“We’re not fighting,” Kia said.
“Sullivan.” Nina drew out her name. “Kia is a strong Black businesswoman breaking into a male-dominated field. If she wasn’t buying the Bois, you’d love her. Play nice.”
“We’re not fighting,” Sullivan repeated.
“Fine, let’s go,” Nina said, in the same tone mothers used with children in grocery stores at five o’clock.
The group followed Nina down the hall. Nina sat them on a bench while she went for paperwork.
In front of them, a young Latine couple adjusted each other’s corsages. One person wore a jewel-blue suit and the other person wore a simple yellow dress. An entourage of friends and grandmas and little children surrounded them. The person in the dress put their arms around the person in the suit and kissed them on the cheek. Blue Suit lifted Yellow Dress an inch off the ground and spun them around.
Kia jumped up. “Y’all are too cute!”
The couple beamed.
“Could I take your pictures? I run a little social media thing. Kia Gourmazing. I just love to meet new people.”
Kia held out her phone, presumably showcasing the fabulous new people she’d already immortalized on her feed.
“I know Kia Gourmazing!” Yellow Dress exclaimed. “My uncle runs a food truck.”
“Great! I’ll tag your uncle’s truck.”
The couple was already posing for Kia’s camera. Kia beamed, took some pictures, typed a caption at light speed, and sat back down.
“Don’t worry,” Kia said to Sullivan. “I won’t put you on my channel.”
“Do you do that constantly?” Sullivan should leave it alone, get married, walk away. But Aubrey’s photo shoots had interrupted every date Sullivan had planned. She should at least get through this miserable experience without watching people cheesing for Kia’s camera.
“It’s my job,” Kia said. “If I lose followers, I lose money.”
