Kya pauses like she’s thinking about it. “Yes. I guess that’s true.”
“Hey, are you hungry?”
“Yes!”
I pull out my phone. “I’ll order us some dinner.”
Kya spins on my barstool and stops herself with a palm on the counter after one revolution. “Okay, but can we get Chinese? I’m full up on pizza at the moment.”
“You bet,” I tell her. “Although, hold on a sec. I’ve gotta pee.”
It takes less than a minute to go to the bathroom. I’m ordering Chinese food on my cell as I walk back to the living room when I find Kya leaning over my laptop with her mouth hanging open.
There’s a pinched, doubting look on her face and her bottom lip trembles. “What the hell, Marissa?”
My stomach plummets through my favorite section of floor and several stories down. In my mind I see my laptop screen as I left it—open on Giselle’s Facebook page.
“What?” I make my eyes wide and innocent.
There’s no trace of the lovesick teenager she was moments ago. “Why are you logged in as Giselle?” Her voice is low, serious.
I hover at the edge of my living room, fighting the urge to run. “I think Giselle must have used my laptop and not logged out.” I can’t meet her eye, and I hear the lie in my voice as well as she does.
“Four weeks ago? Before she left for Berlin?”
She’s mocking me with her questions. She probably wants to see how long I’m going to draw out my lies.
“Probably.”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “These are messages sent back and forth with Tarek. From today. From an hour ago. You’re pretending to be Giselle.”
“Not really.” I bite my lip. Not really well, at least.
“The hell you aren’t.” She toggles around on the screen. “This is you. This is all you. I should’ve noticed it before. I probably would have if I hadn’t been so hung up on Trina. Just look at all these pictures of sunsets.”
I sigh and take a seat at the table. “I’m not pretending to be Giselle.” I put my head in my hands. “Because I am Giselle.”
Kya sinks into the seat by the laptop and stares at me. “What do you mean ‘you are Giselle’? You’re not Giselle. I’ve met Giselle. She’s a self-centered bitch who only talks to you and Tarek.”
“Oh, wow.” I lean against my seat back, stricken. I should’ve written Lexy better lines. And directed some of them at Kya. “Do you remember when Tarek came over to check on me after Liam left?”
Kya nods, and, to her credit, waits for my explanation.
“Tarek dumped me in a cold shower with all my clothes on, bruised my butt, and told me love doesn’t exist. And he admitted he encouraged Liam to dump me, to live his life to the fullest, and to run off with a stripper.”
Her eyes go round in shock. As well they should. I feel a delayed sense of satisfaction that she at least recognizes Tarek’s wrongdoing despite her love for him. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” She shakes her head. “So Giselle is…”
“An online lesson in Love 101. A beautiful, exciting, intelligent woman designed to attract Tarek. She’s just his type, but she resists his advances. Then he falls in love. And the joke’s on him because there is no Giselle.”
She leans back in her chair. “Oh my God, you’re catfishing my brother.”
I shut down my computer and wind up the cord. “I’m not catfishing him. I’m kittenfishing him.”
“What’s the difference?”
I shake my head and shrug. “It’s not as bad as catfishing. He deserves it, and I’m not a bad person.”
Kya drums her fingers on the table. “And Giselle’s okay with you hijacking her Facebook account?”
I get up and move my laptop to the bar. My guilt tugs at me to get it out of sight, out of Kya’s recent memory. “Oh, no, there really isn’t anyone named Giselle involved here.”
Kya puts a hand to her forehead and rubs. “Who did I meet, then?”
I sit back down heavily. “An actress I hired to play her. Her name’s Lexy.”
“You hired an actress?” Kya’s tone says just how crazy she thinks I am.
“Yes. Instead of going on my honeymoon.”
Kya shakes her head. “Whoa. You were worse off than I thought.”
I nod, knowing I can’t argue with her. It’s probably true. I put my chin in my hands, and my voice gets little. “Don’t tell Tarek, okay?”
She throws her hands in the air. “Tell him what, exactly? That it turns out you’re as psycho as Blaire?”
I cringe. “Don’t tell Tarek anything.” I blink at her and lob one over the net. “He deserves this.”
She takes a deep breath and regards me, calculating. “You don’t want me to tell my own brother?”
I shake my head.
“Okay, fine.” She folds her arms. “I won’t have to.”
I sit up straight. “What do you mean? Do you think he already knows?” Or is this the teaching moment where Kya demands that I tell him myself if I’m to remain her friend?
She smiles a smile that would be at home on the face of a daytime soap opera villain. “Nope. I think he doesn’t care.”
I scoot forward and lean my hands flat on the table. “I know you might think that because he’s not big on feelings and has never been in love, but Tarek’s falling for Giselle.”
Kya laughs. I frown. “What?”
She pinches her bottom lip, studying me. “You’re hilarious.”
“Why am I hilarious?”
She laughs again, throwing her head back and enjoying herself. “You’ll see.”
“I’ll see what?”
She shakes her head again and gets up from the table, strumming it with her fingers once again for good measure. “Good luck, Giselle. Your secret’s safe with me.”
I hop up from the table and follow her to the door. Why don’t I feel reassured? “Where are you going? I just ordered Chinese.”
She turns around, her eyes dancing with the joke I’m not getting. “I’m going home to order a pizza.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
On Wednesday Liam shows up at my office.
Actually, Ally the blond goth receptionist shows up at my desk to tell me some old guy is here to give me flowers, but it turns out she meant Liam and must have just caught his slight bald spot from a bad angle. He’s really quite handsome. Not a perfect ten like Tarek, but then, who is? Besides Tarek.
Ally leaves us with a roll of her eyes, and I take the giant vase of flowers from Liam and place it on my desk. I pull out the extra chair for him and then seat myself and wait for him to tell me why he’s made an appearance at my place of employment.
He clears his throat. “Your mom called me.”
This was not what I expected. Groveling, begging, yelling, maybe. But my mother? I lean forward—too far—and almost fall off my office chair.
“Why did my mother call you?” I demand, wondering why on earth she didn’t call me and warn me.
He hesitates and looks down at his hands. “Umm, maybe because I called her first.”
“Why did you call my mother?”
He pulls his shoulders back and gets defensive, something I’m starting to recognize as a well-worn Liam tactic. “You were being unresponsive. I wanted the inside track.”
I clutch the armrests of my chair and glare at Blaire as she strolls by, three hours late for work. She raises her eyebrows, nodding from the back of Liam’s head to me, and I wave her away with a scowl. Help from Blaire is the last thing I need right now.
After a deep breath, I ask, “What did my mom say?”
He picks at a hangnail, avoiding my gaze. “She told me we still have a few weeks to get married before losing the money on the wedding venue.”
Anger takes a big bite out of my insides. Oh, Mother. I don’t want Liam. I really don’t want Liam. And, as much as I regret the money my parents will lose on the wedding venue that won’t be needed, I’m sure
as hell not going to marry Liam just to save it.
“My mom’s crazy, right?” I deflect, wondering if he’ll push further.
He does. “It’s not so crazy.” He leans forward. “Marissa, listen. I know what a fool I was for leaving you—”
“But you weren’t happy with me,” I interrupt him. I seize his hand and look into his eyes. “You were happy with the stripper.”
He pulls his hand away. “Her name’s Carla.”
“What really happened with Carla? You looked so happy together.”
Liam raises his eyebrows. “Looked? You saw us? I thought you said Blaire saw us.”
Oh, huh. I forgot I can’t tell him. I saw them in an illegal, stalker-ish kind of way I shouldn’t want to admit. But caring less about Liam has made me careless.
“I saw you. Shopping.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I ducked out before you saw me. I…didn’t want to talk to you then.”
“Oh.” His shoulders sag, and I wonder if I’ve somehow deprived him of the fight he wants.
“Why did you and Carla break up?”
He fills his lungs expansively and leans back. Perhaps he’ll bluster about their lives taking different directions or something typical of Liam and the nonspecific way he has always shared his life with me.
Instead he crumples and his eyes fill with tears.
“She left me for her ex-boyfriend.” He sobs with the admission and then, looking around as if remembering where he is, struggles to get a grip on himself. I hand him the box of tissues from my desk.
“Thanks.” He takes one and blows his nose loudly.
“I’m sorry, you know.” He looks at me squarely, his emotions almost in check. “I realized how you must have felt—how upset you must have been—when I left.”
I nod. I was devastated when he left. I was broken and alone. I didn’t mourn only him, himself. I also mourned the me I’d been—or thought I was—when I was with him. Being with Liam made me feel validated. I compare that weak satisfaction to what Tarek has made me feel, and my breath traps itself in my throat. My heart rate accelerates and the pulse point behind my ear gets hot as I can almost feel the memory of Tarek nipping me there.
I’d always thought that having a calm, committed relationship was what I wanted. Stability. Companionship. Security. Drama-free so I could focus on getting my career and goals together since they so aren’t. Success comes with a support system in place—the kind of marriage my parents have. But I’m realizing there should be something more than the idea of commitment and an absence of conflict keeping a relationship together. I had feelings for Liam. I’d thought I loved him. But he’d never made me feel the way Tarek makes me feel. Not ever.
“I got over it,” I say. His head pulls back like he’s surprised I’m not more upset or gratefully leaping into his arms.
“You got over it fast, apparently.” He swallows. “You and Tarek, right?”
Me and Tarek. Just the thought sends flames licking up my thighs. “I’m not talking about him with you.”
“It’s just, when your mom called, she didn’t seem to know about you and Tarek. She was obviously under the impression that you were pining for me.” He reaches out for my hand, but I move away. He sits back in his seat. “It makes me wonder about you and Tarek. I mean, we all know how he is. And you haven’t told your mom. It’s not like you’re really with him.”
I stand up, my anger bubbling to the surface. “Liam, I’m sorry my mother misled you, but she’s mistaken. I’m not pining for you. There’s no future where you and I end up together. Not in the next few weeks. Not ever.”
Liam pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. I soften toward him.
“You don’t want me, anyway.” I put a hand on his arm. “Go find Carla. Go tell her how you feel about her. Maybe this boyfriend she went back to is a mistake. They broke up the first time for a reason.” I give him a small, encouraging smile. “And if she turns you down, well, then, you leave her alone because stalking is wrong. Very wrong.” It’s a lesson I’ve recently internalized.
Liam looks confused but nods, and I lead him out of the newsroom and walk him to his car. When we get there, I give him a hug.
“We’re both happier apart.” I pat his back. This is good. In fact I feel fantastic, like a giant cement block has just been chiseled from my feet. “I wish you all the best.” I put my hand above my eyes, shielding them from the bright sunlight, and smile up at him.
Liam studies my face, a sad smile working its way across his well-formed lips. “You’re different now.” He clicks his key and the doors to his car unlock. “You’re…I don’t know. It’s like you’re not half of a couple anymore—you’re separate. You don’t need me.”
“Umm, thanks.” I blink at him. It’s true I always thought I needed him. It’s so liberating to feel like I don’t.
“Watch out for Tarek,” Liam says as he gets into his car. “He’s too dangerous for you.”
Don’t I know it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Seriously, Marissa, what’s up with you? It’s been a week.” Kya’s voice sounds annoyed, but not nearly as angry as she’d normally be if I ducked her calls for a week. Like I had.
Ever since Kya found out I’m Giselle, things have been weird. I’ve been avoiding her moral superiority and family protectiveness.
But maybe her attitude is all in my head.
For a whole week, I’ve made no contact with Kya or Tarek, as either myself or as Giselle. I’ve missed only two calls from Tarek—who didn’t leave messages—and seven from Kya, which is why I thought she’d be more pissed. Instead she’s managing to sound vaguely self-satisfied.
“I’ve been busy,” I finally answer, sitting down to the laptop in my kitchen.
“Uh hunh.” Kya’s voice doesn’t believe me. “With Dog-boy or the guilty ex?”
“Neither. I’ve been busy with work. And I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me after finding out about Giselle.”
“Right. The gazillion missed phone calls made you think I didn’t want to talk to you.”
She had a point.
“Never mind,” she continues. “I’m glad I have you now. What are you doing this weekend?”
“I don’t know.” Trying not to think of Tarek. What else have I been doing lately?
“Well, will you please pick one of your two suitors and come rock climbing with Chloe and me?”
“Who’s Chloe?”
“The pizza girl.”
“Oh, right.” I stop clicking the mouse around. “Sure. I’d love to. Are things going well with Chloe then?”
“I guess you could say so. It’s still early days, but I’m cautiously hopeful.” I can hear the smile in her voice and find myself cautiously hopeful too. I hope this relationship will be kinder than her last.
“So who are you bringing? Liam? Brandon? Some handsome unknown you want to tell me about?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Since I’ve been avoiding you for a week. “Liam and I broke up. Well and truly.”
“That’s fantastic! You’ve graduated into real life.”
“Thank you.” Absurdly I feel a warm glow of accomplishment. Liam wasn’t right for me, and I’m not right for him. It’s a service to the happiness tally of the world that we both figured it out in time not to cause more unhappiness.
“Well, then, your choice for who to bring rock climbing is easy.”
“Yeah, although I’ll have to see if Brandon’s available. He’s been so busy with his family lately. And I have no idea how he feels about clambering up a cliff.”
There’s a pause. “I could always see if Tarek’s free if Brandon’s not.”
“No!” I’m much too quick with the shouting.
“Why not?” Is it just me, or is Kya’s tone arch? What’s her game plan? To out me to Tarek? She promised she wouldn’t.
I take a deep breath. “You know Tarek and I don’t get along. It’s not a good idea.”
&
nbsp; “But if Brandon’s not available—”
“That’s okay. I’m sure Brandon will jump at the chance to spend time with me.” I swallow. “And I’m not coming if Tarek does.”
∞∞∞
On my next call, Brandon was decidedly not jumping at the chance to spend time with me.
“Rock climbing?” I could practically hear the raised eyebrow in his voice. “I don’t think so, Marissa. Can’t imagine I’d be very good at it.”
“You don’t have to be good.” I smile like they taught us to that one summer I was a telemarketer so my voice would sound happy and persuasive even though he can’t see me. “You just have to go.”
“Why don’t we do something else? I could come over, and we could watch TV.”
“As good as that sounds,” I make myself say, “I want to be there for Kya. Come on,” I almost beg. “We could do this and then watch TV.”
“But I don’t climb rocks. I don’t think they like it. I just leave them alone.”
“This isn’t real rock climbing. This is indoors. Climate-controlled. I don’t even think it’s real rock. It’s plastic. Or polymer. Or polyresin. Something with colorful plastic grippies. Even kids do it. It’s practically a bounce house. It’ll be fine.”
Brandon sighs. “Is Tarek going to be there?”
“No! I told Kya I wouldn’t come if he was.”
“Okay. Yeah. Because that shows you don’t care about him.”
“Right. I don’t. I mean, well, what do you mean?”
“Not a thing.” He blows out a breath.
“I really want to see you again,” I say, suddenly realizing it’s true.
“I want to see you again, too, just maybe without the entourage.” His voice is warm, and I feel it reaching out to me.
“Okay. You’ve got a deal. Ask me out sometime without my friends, and I’ll be there, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So that’s a yes? To rock climbing?” I squeeze my fists and squeal silently, already celebrating.
“God help me, that’s a yes. See you Saturday.”
∞∞∞
On Friday I go to work with a bounce in my step. I’m looking forward to the weekend and seeing Brandon again. It’s time to stop dwelling on whatever weird sexual chemistry I have with Tarek. Wild attraction to an unsuitable partner is not something worth wasting any thought on. It’s time to start planning a sensible future with steady Brandon.
Kittenfish: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy Page 18