6B – Jenna
JENNA
The Following Evening
“Remember to never eat onions around him.” I tossed rings from Laura’s salad into the trash. “They make his throat itch.”
“Noted.”
“You also need to get rid of that Jets keychain. You know he’s a Giants fan.”
“Actually, I don’t know that.” She flipped through the crash binder I’d made. “I must’ve missed that fact somehow.”
“It’s on the first page.”
“I thought that was just another list of rules.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll need to commit all those things to mind tonight.”
“Why would you—” I paused, letting out a breath.
This was all last-minute.
And none of it was her fault.
“Okay, Laura, look,” I said. “If there’s ever a moment when you can’t remember something, just smile, ask a question, and then repeat the last thing they said—people love hearing themselves echoed back.”
“Does that honestly work?”
“All the time,” I said. “And whenever you get frustrated, remember this is all temporary, and you’re being paid quite well for your time.”
“Will do.”
“Now, let’s, um, discuss the first meetup and proposal stories a few more times.”
“Wait a second,” she said, tilting her head. “Since you know Mr. Saint pretty well already, why can’t you pretend to be his wife?”
“Ha. That would never work,” I said too quickly, shrugging. “Plus, he’s not my type and vice versa.”
“I don’t think he has to be if you’re pretending…”
“Anyway—” I refused to entertain that line of conversation. “Let’s stick to the stories. Tell me about the day you first met Nicholas.”
“Gladly.” She smiled and launched into the story without missing a beat.
Well, almost.
I only had to correct her saying he ordered “onion rings, while I ordered garlic parmesan bites” because he definitely would’ve choked if that were real, but she sailed smoothly through the other prepackaged stories.
The only things we needed to smooth out were making the off-the-cuff answers more natural.
As I was reminding her that Nicholas would never—and I do mean never—be caught dead playing any family board games, he texted me.
Nicholas
How is she doing?
Very well so far.
Good to know. How are you doing?
Like you care…
I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.
I’m fine.
Good… I was looking over my conversation script just now, and you did a decent job.
I did an *amazing* job.
From what I’m reading, it’s almost like you know me as well as I know you.
We’re getting closer to Christmas, not April Fool’s…
Funny. Pick up when I call you later.
By the time I was finished walking Laura through some subtle body language notes, Nicholas was calling my phone.
I stared at his name as it crossed my screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer.
My thumb hovered over the screen longer than it should have.
He called back-to-back six more times.
Each vibration felt heavier than the last.
I flipped my phone face down and put it on silent—then sat there, staring at it, long after the screen went dark.
I told myself that his “relationship” with Laura was temporary, that he didn’t really mean what he’d said about coming over on the phone.
He’s just sending mixed signals.
My chest didn’t believe it.