“Ugh, are you quotingStar Trekagain?” Ronnie asks, not bothering to mask her disdain. Unlike her nerd-culture loving, D&D-playing, cosplay-enthusiast cousin, Ronnie loves the classics, period dramas, and all things smutty romance. When it comes to sci-fi and fantasy, though…well, let’s just say we couldonly convince her to watch theLord of the Ringsmovies because of Orlando Bloom.
Andie spins the chair around and gapes at her cousin. “Star Wars. My god, how are we even related?”
I don’t point out the obvious—that because they aren’t biologically related, the odds of them sharing any traits, including non-hereditary ones like taste in film genre, are slim. In fact, the two cousins are about as polar opposite as you can get despite being the children of twins, but that’s only because Marco isn’t Ronnie’s biological father. When he and Simon—Ronnie’s other dad—hired a surrogate to help them have a baby, they both decided to throw their special sauce into the mix and never find out which swimmer was fastest. But the moment Ronnie was born with that porcelain skin and red hair, it was evident whose sperm had won that particular race.
Still, as Ronnie said this morning at Izzy’s, genetics aside, Andie is family. Just as these two bickering morons aremyfamily.
Blood doesn’t mean a damn thing.
Sliding off the bed, I crouch beside Andie at my desk and wave a hand at the screen. “That’s definitelynotwhat Leia said, but start scrolling.” Not that I actually believe Craigslist is the answer, but at this point, I’m willing to try anything.
Ronnie joins us, resting her chin on Andie’s left shoulder while I hover behind the other, watching with carefully contained interest as she presses on the trackpad with her thumb and swipes down, down, down with her index finger, coaxing listing after listing to inch up into view. My eyes scan over every job title that floats into my eyeline, and as the seconds creep by, whatever flicker of optimism I felt at this plan withers and dies.
“Professional pancake flipper? These are ridiculous.”
“Ohhhh, this one’s looking for female social drinkers.” Ronnie thrusts her arm out, pointing at one of the ads. “I could do that. So could you, even if you are a bit of a lightweight.” When I give her anExcuse me?look, she blows me a kiss.
Curiosity piqued, I urge Andie to click on the listing and then scan the description. Drink to pay the bills? Don’t mind if I do. But when we reach the bottom where payment is mentioned, reality knocks some of the sense back into me. “They’re paying in IHOP gift cards. Pass.”
“But…pancakes!” Ronnie whines.
I throw a sidelong glance in her direction. Ronnie could literally buy an IHOP if she wanted. She doesn’t need to be paid in gift cards. Then again, I know all too well what she’s like when she’s hungover. Pancakes are her Kryptonite. Alcohol and pancakes? A dangerous combination. Temptation personified.
“Pass,” I repeat. At my command, Andie clicks the back button and returns to scrolling the listings.
“Let’s see…” She mutters absently to herself as we continue scanning. “Sandwich artist. No. Experienced bra fitter. Interesting, but no. Beard mentor?” She peers up at me over her shoulder. “What the fuck is a beard mentor?”
I shake my head. “Why are you asking me?”
Blinking, I fix my gaze back on the laptop, taking note of the bottom-most listing visible on the screen. The payment amount is posted just under the title, and the number of zeros following the dollar sign immediately catches my eye, forming a string of red and yellow blocks in my mind. But this time, instead of a tower that threatens to crush me, the numbers seem to form a bridge to my possible salvation.
“Hey, what about this one?”
I reach around Andie and press my finger to the trackpad, clicking on the link in question. When the screen changes, she begins to read aloud, “‘Wanted: Fake Girlfriend.’ Okay, that isjust sad. The poor guy must really be desperate. I mean, who goes to Craigslist looking for a girlfriend? And not even a real one at that?”
“Knowing nothing about him, it’s hard to say, but I’m sure he has his reasons,” I murmur.
“Or maybe he’s amurderer,” Ronnie states, drawing out the word for emphasis.
A huff breaks through my lips—half laughter, half exasperation. “A definite possibility. But look what he’s willing to pay.”
Ten thousand a month might not be as much as I need, but it’s close, and far more than I would get elsewhere, making it worth the risk of getting unalived in my book. And if I can get a part-time job on the side, then maybe, between the two, I’ll have the cash to keep Mom going to the end of her treatment. Or long enough to figure something else out.
Ronnie gives the ad another skeptical glance over Andie’s shoulder. “Yeah, that’s how I know it isn’t legit, babe. EvenIwould suck a stranger’s dick for that kind of cash and I have an AmEx Black Card.”
Well, that’s saying something. Ronnie might be a relentless flirt, but she has high standards, and would never fool around with someone unless they’d managed to earn her respect…especially after Jay. She would certainly never be caught dead having a one-night stand with a person she didn’t know or like, no matter how hot they are. Unlike my train-wreck self.
Damian’s face floats into my thoughts again, but I swat it away. Buzz off, asshole.
“What about the time frame?” Andie asks, pointing to the part of the listing where the poster very specifically mentions needing a willing female to pretend to be his girlfriend for a nine-month period. It’s pretty weird, but ten grand over nine months? That’s potentially life-saving money. Besides, how hardcan it be? As long as he doesn’t expect anything more than the odd fake date and nothing creepy, I’m game. “And the age?” she continues. “He says early to mid-twenties in the ad, not nineteen.”
I shake my head at that. It’s a petty distinction; I’ll be twenty in the spring, so it’s close enough. Besides, I highly doubt the guy is going to ID whoever answers the listing.
“Pretty sure he just wants someone legal,” I counter. “And technically, Iwillenter my early twenties before the nine months are over.”
Andie pushes out her lips. “Good point.” Her eyes then flash to her cousin. “It’s probably fine. I mean, why would he put all that if he was just looking to murder whoever answers the ad?”
Ronnie gapes at her cousin in disbelief. “You just answered your own question, dummy. To get people to answer the ad,obviously.”
