Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
After another fitful sleep, I stared at the contract copy Norman had given me.
The apartment was quiet. Lindsey was already at work, and Jenna was doing something at the cosmetology school.
She’d finished her hours, but she was doing some kind of extra certification.
Maddie was still in Lethbridge with the guys, and Shar was in baby-land.
Today, it was just me and my lies. Mismatched socks, crooked hair clip, no good food in the fridge. It was what a dishonest, self-absorbed, corporate ladder climber deserved.
I stared at the dates until my eyes burned, then dragged my sorry butt out of bed and forced myself into the kitchen to at least find crackers and peanut butter. The idea of going to the grocery store only made me think of Logan, which catalyzed my shame spiral all over again.
Why did I sign it? Why didn’t I take a minute to at least talk with Logan?
I knew the answer, of course, but it wasn’t comforting. I was such a hypocrite. What had I said? Something about him being incapable of honesty? That was rich.
He was never going to let me hear the end of this. I had to tell him. There was no getting around that. And then he’d hold my potential career in his egotistical hands.
I pulled out a sleeve of Ritz and opened the jar of Kraft peanut butter, grabbing a knife. I might be a two-faced ambition junkie, but I wasn’t a dip-straight-from-the-jar kind of heathen.
I ate in silence until the crunch of my own teeth was too much to take, and snagged the phone from the wall. I needed to talk to someone, and since it couldn’t be Maddie or Shar, that left one option.
I dialled Tash’s number. No answer.
It was ten-thirty, which meant she was probably still sleeping. But she’d likely be up soon. I debated, but I didn’t take long to make a decision. In less than five minutes, I’d put away my squirrel snack and pulled on boots and a scarf.
Since Maddie moved out, Tash didn’t renew her lease. She was now living three blocks over with different roommates. Friends of Garrett’s. It was very convenient for my current predicament, even though I did technically still have Rob’s truck.
Tash opened the door in plaid PJ pants, her bra, and smudged eyeliner that made a perfect smoky eye. I’d expect nothing less.
“Oh, good,” she mumbled. “Just who I was hoping to see.”
I followed her in without an invitation. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Don’t good morning me. You ditched us last night.” She flopped onto the couch and burritoed in a blanket. “I had a movie and questionable men queued up.”
“Garrett and his friends don’t count as questionable.” I dropped into the armchair. “I’m really sorry, by the way. Turns out, it was a terrible life choice.”
Her ears perked up. “Tell me more.”
“Hm, where to start? I met Norman Marcus and—”
“Shut up!”
“I know. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but it went really well until I found out that the only reason I was there was that he thought I was dating Logan Kemp.”
Tash leaned in. “Wait. NHL player Logan Kemp? Wasn’t he dating your friend, Shar until that picture in the paper came out?”
I nodded. Yes to all of the above. “Norman thought we were together.”
Her brows shot up. “I’m sorry?”
I let out a groan. “He offered me a job, but it requires us—me and Logan—to show up at different events. As boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Tash’s mind was working. “Why the hell would Norman Marcus care who you’re dating?”
I threw out my arms. “Right? He’s opening this new gallery, an artist collective space, and doing some kind of historical feature involving hockey. He’s convinced that I, as Logan’s significant other, can convince him to show up for the press.”
Realization dawned on Tash’s face. “Oh. Because he plays for the Blizzard.”
“Exactly.”
Tash chewed on this for a moment. “I don’t see the problem.”
I pressed my fingers against my temples. “Of course you don’t.”
“No, I’m serious. When does the gallery open?”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish. That would’ve been a good question to ask.
“Okay, you don’t know. That’s fine. But it can’t be too long if he’s already thinking about promotion.”
“So?”
“So, you tell Logan you want to do it until the opening, then you part ways amicably, or have a dramatic public breakup, whichever you prefer, and voila.”
“Voila? I see no ‘voila!’ This is Logan Kemp, Tash. Shar’s ex.
There’s no way I can commit to spending so much time with him—I don’t want to spend that much time with him.
And I don’t want people to think we’re dating, plus the fact that I don’t want to start off this job—a potential stepping stone to future incredible opportunities, on a lie! ”
Tash laughed out loud. “What, you think everyone in the arts just made it there because of their talent? Do you know how many lies manager moms tell about their kids to get them acting gigs? They make up false addresses, birth certificates—”
“Yeah, okay, I get it, but I don’t want that to be me! Why should I have to link myself to some guy to get ahead?”
She gave me a look. “Babe.”
“Babe.”
Tash let out a slow breath. “You’re literally preaching to the choir, but that system isn’t changing anytime soon.
We can sit here and bitch about it, or we can use it to our advantage.
” She reached for her glass on the end table and took a very sketchy sideways drink of some liquid that wasn’t quite clear. “What have you got to lose?”
That question gave me pause. The job. I had the job to lose. But would I lose it if Norman found out I wasn’t actually dating Logan . . . or would I lose it faster by telling the truth?
I thought back to that plastic room. How eager he’d been, how fast he’d wanted me to sign.
“Okay.” I sucked in a breath and held it. “Okay.”
“There you go.”
I leaned over my knees. “So, what, I tell Logan? Hope he’ll go along with it?”
She grinned. “Oh, he’ll go along with it.”
My face screwed up. “I don’t see how that’s obvious.”
“Um, he went to the grocery store with you guys to buy baby food.”
“Actual food, not baby food.”
“Whatever. And then he shows up at this thing? Sets up a meeting?”
I still wasn’t catching what she was throwing.
Tash pulled herself up to sit. “He’s lonely.”
I scoffed. “Logan? He’s playing on the Blizzard. He has a whole team and a thousand girls throwing themselves at him.”
“Yeah. So why is he at a Co-op with two of his ex’s best friends? Why is he at a gallery with you instead of sleeping off a hangover?”
Both excellent questions. I don’t sleep around.
I swallowed hard. “There’s one slight problem.”
“And that is?”
“I was . . . a bit self-righteous. At the store and the warehouse.”
Tash smirked. “Can I please be a fly on the wall when you make this phone call?”
_____
Neither of us had classes because of the government holiday, so we rewatched the last half of the movie since it didn’t have to be returned to Blockbuster until tomorrow.
Then we walked onto campus to get lunch from the cafeteria and returned to our couch potato status by about three o’clock in the afternoon.
After talking and laughing, we made tacos with the mystery meat Tash had in the fridge, and I finally felt prepared to face the music.
I decided to phone him from her apartment because, frankly, I needed the moral support.
If anything good was going to come from this, I figured it might as well be Tash’s happiness.
Two rings. Four. Then a party swallowed the line.
“Hello?”
Bass thumped. Bottles clinked. I couldn’t even tell if it was him until a female voice cooed, “Logan, leave it. Come back to the couch.”
My stomach knotted.
“Hang on—yeah? Hello?” Logan sounded more than a little breathless.
I tried to hang up, but Tash caught my arm. “Um, yeah, it’s me. Crystal.” She said for me, then pressed the receiver back to my ear.
“Oh! Hey!” Something scraped against the speaker. “One sec—” Muffled shuffle. “Can you hear me? Sorry, it’s loud. I had the guys over tonight, and it—Pace, shut up for a sec—hang on—”
This sounded like old Logan. Life of the party, Logan. This was the Logan I’d learned to resent the most. Because whenever he was taking shots or goofing off with the boys, Shar had been sitting off to the side. I’d never liked that dynamic, even when things were good between them.
“It’s fine. You’re busy. I can—”
“No, wait, it’s good.” The noise died away with the slam of a door. “There. What’s up?”
My mind went blank now that I had his attention. “Uh, no, it’s nothing. I think—I don’t know, maybe it’s better if I phone tom—”
“Is this about the contract?”
I froze. “You know about that?”
“Well, yeah. You booked it out of there, but Norman told us about how he offered you a job.”
I pursed my lips. “What exactly did he tell you?” I highly doubted Logan would act this chill if he knew the whole story, but then again, he was quite possibly hammered.
“He said you were going to be starting Monday, that you were going to help prep the space, do some outreach and publicity.”
“Yeah, about that.”
A bang sounded on the door through the phone. “Lo-gan,” a girl sang out. “Are you hiding?”
Match to fuse, take two. “We can talk about this later,” I snapped.
“What? Wait—”
“This is a bad time. You’re mid—whatever. I’ll figure it out.”
“Crystal, hang on—”
“It’s fine,” I lied. “Talk later.”
“Crys—”
I hung up.
I thunked the phone into the cradle and scrubbed my face with my hands. Tash gave me a disapproving look, but before she could start in on her sure-to-be rousing speech, the phone rang.
She snatched it up. “Hello?” Her eyes grew wide, and I tried to listen in, but she darted out of my reach, stretching the phone cord around the kitchen wall. “Wait, how did you get this number?” She grinned, mouthing “He called *69!” Then said, “This is Tash. Crystal called from my place.”
“Tash!” I hissed.
She curled further into herself, blocking me by crushing the phone between her face and the wall. “Right, so you’ll go like you’re coming onto campus, stay on the main drive and take a right on Bailey.” Tash nodded, giving me a stiff arm. “Yep, follow that up, then through the little roundabout—”
“Tash!” It was more of a command this time, because she was giving out directions to my house.
“It’s the blue fourplex—”
I successfully snagged the cord and pulled, yanking the receiver from her grasp. We scrabbled for it on the floor, and by the time I got it close to my ear, I heard, “Think I lost you. Alright, thanks!”
The line went dead.
I reeled on her, the lower half of our bodies still tangled together. “You gave Logan directions?”
She couldn’t even pretend to keep the look of sheer, diabolical gratification off her face. “You'd better get home. He’s coming over.”