6. Nick
Chapter six
Nick
“She said no?” José asks, his voice over the phone echoing in my ear.
But he doesn’t sound sorry about it. If anything, he’s enjoying my predicament way too much.
He already asked me twice to repeat the exact words that I used and how she responded.
Meanwhile, it sounds like his wife, Elena, invited friends over for the night, because I can hear a lot of female laughter in the background.
“Serves you right for keeping her up at night playing music,” he says.
“It was only until eleven p.m. Maybe, sometimes, midnight. Who goes to bed before eleven p.m.?”
“Apparently Maddie does.” José says he will ask Elena if she has any suggestions, but he needs to get her alone for a minute. And he needs to make his famous guacamole dip. We hang up.
I pace around the floor of my apartment and then stare out the window. It’s dark already, and the shades of the various windows across the street have already been pulled down. A cold draft makes me shiver. I pull on a sweater.
My phone rings, and I pick up.
José says, “I’m back.”
“But other than that, I’ve been a good neighbor.” I can’t believe she said no. I thought we were friends. “I take care of her cat when she has to travel. I brought her food when she sprained her ankle.”
I move away from the window and sit back down by my keyboard and guitar, staring at the framed Rolling Stones poster on my wall.
“You’ve been out of the dating world way too long,” José says. “How could you ask her to fake date you and sign an NDA at the same time?”
“So, Big Brain, when else should I suggest that?”
“Maybe don’t suggest an NDA at all,” he says. “You either trust her, or you don’t.”
I envy José’s devil-may-care attitude. I really do. Maybe that comes with the territory of being a drummer. His attitude: Let them write what they want . Any publicity is good publicity. Or maybe he’s just smarter than me. He never liked Christina.
“Here, Elena wants to talk to you,” José says.
“Nicky, darling, you should not be having this problem, but it’s because you’ve closed yourself off,” Elena says. “You need to open up more and trust. You’ve got to let go of what that Christina woman did to you.”
“You’re right,” I say to Elena. But that is so much easier said than done.
If anything, this only shows that I was right not to date—because I’m too easy a target to be pulled down by scandalous rumors right now.
But Maddie has been living next to me for several years now and has never written an article about me.
And she could definitely have written some horror piece titled “No Sweet Dreams: Next-Door Neighbor to an Up-and-Coming Rock Star,” based on how much she hates when I play late.
She’s not going to write an article about fake dating me if she doesn’t want to be the story.
“Here’s José back,” Elena says, telling him that I said she was right.
“I’ve been telling you that for ages. And she’s right?” José asks.
“You wanted me to tell her she wasn’t right?” I ask.
He laughs. “No. She is right. You should get back out there and date. This is the universe telling you that being a monk is not the right approach.”
“I don’t think that’s the lesson I’m supposed to learn from this,” I say wryly.
The lesson is that I should have publicized my non-dating stance. But I can apologize to Maddie for saying that I didn’t trust her.
“I can fix this. I’ll write up a contract that favors her and slip it under her door.”
“Cause that’s going to melt her heart,” José says. “I always find contracts incredibly sexy.”
“You don’t know Maddie. She will love this contract,” I say.
José laughs. “I’m coming over.”
“Don’t,” I say.
“I’ll bring food,” José says. “Plus, Elena has her friends over, and they need some time for girl chat. Or so I’ve just been told.” José lives about fifteen blocks away from me.
“Bring Maddie’s favorite dumplings, then.” I hang up.
She will love this contract . I open up my laptop and stare at the blank screen. I start typing:
Dating Contract
Nick Devlin and Maddie Hughes hereby agree to fake date for three (3) months. As part of this:
Nick will not play music past ten p.m. ever again.
Nick will also invest in soundproofing his apartment.
I don’t even own this place. That seems like a lot to pay for when I’m going to have to remove it. And what if the landlord catches me?
3. We will appear in public once a week, holding hands.
4. Maddie will also show up at any appearances required by my record label, provided that she doesn’t have a work conflict.
Okay, I’ve veered into the wrong territory. This is too much about me. What can she get out of this?
5. Nick will show up as Maddie’s boyfriend at any event where Maddie requires a date, provided Nick doesn’t have a work conflict.
I doubt Maddie needs a date at events. It’s the twenty-first century. Uh-oh. What if Maddie wants to date someone else?
6. Maddie and Nick resolve to be exclusive for the three months.
Great. Now she has to give up dating anyone else as well. This is not a contract she’s going to love.
7. Nick will cook dinner for Maddie two nights a week.
8. Nick will scoop out Sherlock’s litter box every day.
José is going to die laughing when he sees this. What else can I offer?
Maddie is all about her career, but it’s not like I can help her with her career. And dating a musician doesn’t help her with her career. Maybe that’s why she said no.
9. The terms of this contract will remain confidential.
Maddie will want this as much as me.
10. Nick will do whatever Maddie wants for three months, as long as it is not a career conflict.
What if she wants me to move out?
I rub my brow. I can move out. It wouldn’t make sense to move out while we’re “dating,” though.
Plus, I like living next to Maddie. I like the separate entrance through the deli if I ever feel like I’m being followed by a fan.
I shouldn’t have played music past ten. It’s only that…
well, I work best at night, like an owl—or bat.
But is that truly why she’s saying no? This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me. She’s always seemed reasonable.
There’s a knock on my door. Please let it be Maddie, reconsidering.
It’s José.
I open the door.
José hands me the bag filled with cartons of dumplings and makes himself at home, sitting right down at my table and reading the document on my laptop.
I pile the cartons of dumplings on my compact kitchen counter, my back to José so I don’t have to see his reaction.
“It’s not bad,” José says. “It’s a good starting point, anyway.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Especially clause ten. That conveys your total desperation.”
“Thanks…”
“Make it clear that this is a starting proposal and you’re open to any of her suggestions,” José says. “I don’t see how she can say no to this.”