Dirty Deal

by Crystal Kaswell

  I split the difference. He leaves to fetch me a snack, and I wait in silence until the tub is full enough, then I slip into the sudsy water.

  It's perfect. Hot but not painfully so. Big bubbles that smell of lavender and peppermint.

  One by one, my muscles relax. The day washes away. The pain of pretending washes away. Everything is perfect and warm and sweet.

  Blake returns with a tray of snacks. Grapes, berries, crackers, cheese, and dark chocolate.

  He's in jeans and a t-shirt. It's weird. But hot too. He wears cotton well.

  I move to the edge of the tub. "You look normal."

  "And usually?"

  "You're in a suit. You wore a suit when we went shopping."

  "I wore slacks and a collared shirt."

  "Okay, you were business casual. Most people wear something like that." I draw a circle around his outfit. "Isn't that how programmers usually dress?"

  "I don't program much these days."

  I pop a raspberry into my mouth. I never buy berries. Too expensive. It's better than I remember. Tart, sweet, perfect. "Do you miss it?"

  "At times."

  "Did you love programming?"

  "I love some things about it."

  "Like…"

  "There's this feeling of accomplishment when you get a program to work. A satisfaction. Nothing compares."

  "You like being in control of the computer?"

  "That's part of it. It's more the sense of accomplishment."

  "What do you do now? Besides programming?"

  "Lots of meetings. Executive-level decisions. It's important, but it's not as satisfying."

  "You could let someone else run your company."

  He stares back at me in horror. I think. "What do you love about art?" He takes a strawberry and sucks the juice from it. "We've never talked about it."

  "We don't talk much."

  "True." His voice gets light. Well, for Blake.

  "I love all of it. But I love graphic novels the most."

  "Comic books?"

  I nod.

  He half-smiles. "You do realize I started a tech company at sixteen."

  "And you were inspired by Batman or something?"

  "No. He's too violent."

  "Iron Man?"

  "Do I strike you as snarky?"

  I laugh. I'm pretty sure that's a joke.

  It is. Blake is actually smiling. God, he has a nice smile. It makes me feel warm all over.

  "I don't really read comic books," I say. "I'm not into superhero stories. I like graphic novels about people and relationships. My sister always says it's boring girl stuff."

  "You love her a lot?"

  "Of course. Don't you love your sister?"

  He nods. "She's difficult, I know. If she was—"

  "It's okay. I get it. What's the deal with her husband?"

  "Trey? He's not a good man."

  I arch a brow. "That's not a good explanation."

  "It's not my secret to share."

  Fair enough. I sink my teeth into the chocolate. It's perfect. Rich. Sweet. Satisfying. "What do you do for fun?"

  "Chess."

  "Chess?"

  "That too." He glances at the plate. "Do you want something more substantial?"

  "Not in the bath." I push back to the wall—the tub really is that big. "I… I want to know why we're doing this."

  He nods. Then nothing.

  "That was your cue to start the explanation," I say.

  He nods to a glass of water. I roll my eyes but I drink the entire glass.

  "Don't do that," he says.

  "Follow your instructions?"

  "Roll your eyes."

  "Or what? Will you punish me for being bad?"

  "I'm going to do what I can to respect you, Kat. I expect the same from you." His gaze is intense. "Understood?"

  "If you want respect, then respect me. I asked you for something. You didn't reply."

  He stares back at me.

  I can't hold his gaze. My eyes go to my ring. It's still catching all the light.

  "You like it?" His voice is soft. Almost like he actually cares about my reaction.

  "Does it matter?" I do like it, though I'd like it a lot more if it was from someone who cared about me. If it symbolized love instead of bullshit.

  "Yes." He kneels next to the bath, bringing us eye to eye. "It suits you."

  "I'm expensive and showy?"

  "You're beautiful and understated." He offers his hand. "I want this to be easy for you."

  "It will be easier if you stop saying that. And if you explain." I dip my head into the water. I feel cleaner instantly. Like the bath is washing away all the hair product and makeup. All the stuff that makes me Blake's pretty, fake fiancée and not Kat.

  Blake stares at me, studying me.

  I wipe the makeup from my eyes. "Why did you ask me to marry you?"

  "The same reason I asked you to play my girlfriend."

  "Helpful."

  "I wanted to make someone happy."

  "Who?" I squeeze shampoo into my hands and lather.

  Blake motions come here. When I move closer, he combs the shampoo through my hair.

  "I can do that," I say.

  "Let someone else help you for once."

  "I don't need help."

  "Accept it anyway." He runs his hands through my hair. It's soft. Gentle. Loving. "You remember my mother?"

  "Meryl. Of course. She was sweet."

  "And weak. She could barely stand." His voice is soft. Hurt. "She's not supposed to drink with her medication, but at this point, I don't think it matters."

  I don't like the sound of that. "Why not?"

  "She has liver disease." He shakes his head. "I should have convinced her to quit drinking. This wouldn't have happened."

  "You're her kid. You can't convince her to do anything."

  His eyes go dark. "I could have. She knew better. We all knew better."

  "Maybe she... maybe there are treatments." Oh. It hits me all at once. There are no treatments. This whole charade is for his mother's benefit. It must be because—

  "She's dying, Kat." He presses his palm against the porcelain. "We thought she had a year, but things took a turn for the worse. Best case scenario, she has three months."

  My stomach drops. Meryl is a sweet woman. Loving. It's not fair.

  But then I gave up on life being fair a long time ago.

  I offer Blake my hand. "I'm sorry."

  "Thank you." He takes it. "She's always worried about me. After my father, it makes sense, but I don't want her to die worrying."

  "What about your father?"

  He ignores my question. "We need to sell this. We need to convince her we're madly in love."

  "Why not tell her the truth?"

  He looks me right in the eyes. "She thinks her marriage cursed us. She's still guilty she stayed with him."

  "But why?"

  This, too, he brushes off.

  I stare back at him for a few moments, but his expression stays a wall. He isn't going to explain.

  I dip my hair, rinsing out all the shampoo and most of the product. When I surface, Blake is waiting with a bottle of conditioner.

  He runs it through my hair. "If you have any objections, I'd like to get them out of the way."

  "You're pretty much at my mercy," I say. "I mean, you've already proposed to me. You can't find a new fake girlfriend now."

  His fingertips graze my forehead. "I want you. Not anyone else."

  "You're stuck with me."

  "No, I want you."

  I pull back and duck my head into the water to rinse the conditioner. Thoughts swirl around my brain. Objections. Encouragement. That voice that screams you still need his money.

  I barely know Meryl, but I know enough to want her happy.

  Even if it's a lie. A lie that makes you happy must be better than a truth that hurts you.

  Tension builds between my shoulders. It doesn't feel right. I
t feels like more bullshit. "So we're… what, we're going to get married ASAP? So she's there?"

  He nods.

  "How are you going to plan a wedding that fast?"

  "I could have a wedding planned tomorrow if I wanted." His voice gets low. "Money can buy just about anything you want."

  "It can't buy me." Not my core. Not my love. Not my will. If I'm doing this, it's because I believe it's the right thing to do.

  Something in him changes. He nods. All steely and determined. "You've already signed a contract."

  "And you've already said you want me. Just me."

  He nods. "You're a good negotiator."

  "Maybe. I just want to survive this." I bite my lip. "My sister will hate me for lying to her."

  "Your sister will understand." He stares at me with big, earnest eyes. "This is for her future too, isn't it?"

  It's the first time I've seen him this earnest.

  "Does your mother mean that much to you?" I ask.

  "She means everything to me."

  But lying to her…

  Blake is right.

  I already agreed to this.

  But if he really does need me, I'm the one holding the cards.

  I don't know Meryl. I don't know if she'd prefer a comforting lie over a hurtful truth. I have to trust that Blake does know her. That he's making the right choice.

  I know my sister.

  And she's not going to take lying. "I have to tell Lizzy. I tell her everything or I walk."

  He stares back at me. "She's a kid. She'll gossip."

  "She won't. And either way, I'm not negotiating this point."

  Blake stares into my eyes, picking me apart.

  "I want her to meet you. I want you to be friendly."

  He nods. "I'll find a break in my schedule."

  "Okay." I offer my hand.

  He shakes.

  Now this is on my terms too.

  I arrive home at 3 A.M.

  Lizzy is sitting on the couch with a worried look on her face.

  "What the hell?" She pulls her phone from her pocket and opens her web browser to a gossip site. "Tech CEO Blake Sterling Engaged to Everyday Girl." She makes eye contact. "Quite the fucking compliment."

  "It's a school night," I say.

  "I'm not going to school tomorrow. I won't hear the end of it."

  She stares at me like she's looking for a crack, something she can use to get me to confess.

  I'm back in jeans and a sweater. Most of my fancy clothes are in Blake's apartment. He'll probably want me there soon. Until his mom… I don't even want to think it.

  "We don't lie to each other. That's the deal, remember?" she says. "The two of us against the world, because the world is obviously against us."

  "Of course." That's what I told her after the accident. When I realized how screwed we were. "It's still us against the world. I promise."

  "Are you going to tell me what's going on here?" she asks.

  "In the morning. I'm too tired to think straight."

  "Kat, now. I'm not going to be able to sleep. This doesn't make any sense."

  "In the morning. We'll get pancakes and walk around the gardens."

  "I got this today." She goes to the kitchen table and picks up an envelope. "A scholarship from your boyfriend's company. Excuse me, your fiancé's company."

  "That's great."

  "Kat, you know I'll be happy for you. I'll support you in whatever this is, but only if you tell me the truth."

  My chest tightens. That's what I want. Only I also want her respect. And I'm not sure I deserve it. "Okay, I promise."

  "How the hell did you get me this scholarship?"

  "You earned it."

  "Bullshit." She slams the paper against the table. The whole thing shakes, and her glasses fall off her nose. The tough look on her face drops. "Okay, so I'm not pulling this off."

  "You'd make a great bad cop." I take a seat at the kitchen table. "He suggested it. Said you'd be perfect for it no matter what, since you're a woman in STEM."

  She wipes her glasses on her t-shirt. "I mean no offense by this, really, but did he suggest this while you were on your knees?"

  "Really?"

  "Really? I'm not the one suddenly engaged to a freakin' billionaire."

  My sister thinks I'm a whore. Or maybe I am a whore. I'm fucking Blake because I want him. But the rest? He is buying something from me. Something that shouldn't be for sale. "We have an agreement. It has nothing to do with you."

  "So he hasn't been your secret boyfriend forever?"

  "No."

  "You're not in love?"

  "No."

  "But you are having sex? I mean, I know you are. You keep showing up with a satisfied look on your face."

  "We are. But that's not what he's paying for. I know how it sounds—"

  "You don't have to explain." She folds the letter. "You deserve a break, Kat. And he's hot. Whatever he's paying for… I don't care. As long as you're happy. And as long as it's for you."

  "It's for us."

  Her expression gets serious. "Don't do this for me."

  "You already have the scholarship. It's done."

  "Kat! Will you fucking listen for a minute?"

  "I am."

  "No, you're not. I know you're obsessed with solving all our problems, and I appreciate that. I really do. But I'm an adult. I can handle things too. I can find a scholarship. Or take a loan. You've already sacrificed a lot for me. I can't take you giving up anything else."

  But… this is for us. It needs to be for us or what the hell is the point of it?

  "Kat?"

  "Just take the scholarship."

  She folds her arms.

  "It's done, already. And this is for me too. I quit my job. Now, I'll have time to draw and run and live my life. And I'll be able to finally go to school. You're right. I want a break." Not as much as I want Lizzy doing well, but I do want it. "And I like Blake. I want to get to know him. And to sleep with him."

  That gets her smiling. "It's that good?"

  "Yes. But we're not talking about that—"

  "Oh my God, we so are!" Her smile widens. "Let me see the ring." She takes my hand and stares at the enormous rock. "You know, his company is worth like ten or twenty billion dollars."

  "I know."

  "They have this side project. A chat bot they're testing on their IM program, to see if it can fool users. It's really cool." She releases my hand.

  Figures my nerdy little sister is more interested in chat bots than in my fake wedding. Even if both are imitations of human connection.

  "He wants to meet you. You could show him your chess bot," I say. "He loves chess."

  Her cheeks flush. "I couldn't. That's like you showing your sketchbook to van Gogh or something."

  "You really should go to sleep. It is a school night."

  "And I'm skipping. It's public school. I can call in sick for myself. And there's no way I'm sleeping until I get all the details. About this arrangement. And about sex with a hot billionaire." She gets up and turns on the kettle. "You want black or green tea?"

  "You can't tell anyone."

  "I won't. I promise."

  Chapter 13

  Once upon a time, before the accident, I would spend weekends exploring the city with my friends. It was exciting just to get out of Brooklyn.

  It felt like there was an adventure waiting around every corner.

  The last three years, I've been sorely lacking adventure. I work, I read, I play video games with Lizzy.

  Whatever happened to what I wanted to do? When I was seventeen, my life was wide open with possibilities. Art school to turn my doodling hobby into a career. A state university to study something practical. English or business, maybe. My best friend, Belle, asked me to take a gap year to travel Europe with her.

  It was such an exciting thought. The two of us zipping around Europe, taking in the sights, flirting with different guys in every country. After the accident, all
that went out the window. Everything I wanted or needed went out the window. Taking care of Lizzy and keeping us afloat came first.

  And now…

  I have no idea how to spend my afternoon off. Lizzy and I had a long, chatty brunch, but now she's at work (she refused to quit) and I'm wandering around the park by myself.

  I should be ecstatic that the weight around my neck is gone. No more waiting tables. No more mortgage hanging over my head. No more struggling with bills.

  I am relieved.

  But I'm restless too.

  Like I don't have a direction.

  What the hell am I supposed to do with my time?

  I pull my coat tighter as I lean in to examine a rosebush. Right now, it's all leaves and thorns. It's all the protection and none of the beauty. None of the life.

  I'm the same. I've ignored my hobbies, my friends, my dreams. For three years, I've been a machine. Work. Sleep. Taking care of Lizzy.

  What if there's nothing else to me?

  What if there's no Kat when you strip away the girl desperate to get by?

  I close my eyes and try my best to recall a typical week before the accident. School. Homework. Cross-country. I loved losing myself in a long run as the city whizzed by me.

  In high school, I took every art elective I could. I was utterly indiscriminate. My parents discouraged art school. Wouldn't pay the bills. But the bills won't need paying soon. I can go to school, get a master's, take a job I love that pays crap. I can ask Belle to give me another chance and pay for a year in Europe.

  This money is options.

  This money is freedom.

  This money is security.

  I spend the rest of the afternoon loading up on art books and supplies. The smell of sharpened pencils recalls so many nights spent drawing. I buy one of everything in every color. Markers, ink pens, pastels, watercolors, graphite pencils, acrylics, oils, canvases. Being in the store makes me dizzy. Something about it feels so right.

  A call from Blake interrupts my bliss. When I answer, he's all business.

  "We're meeting my family tomorrow. I'll send a car to your apartment at four-thirty," he says.

  A surge of irritation passes through me. He could ask. He could pretend like he cares that I have my own priorities.

  "You're supposed to meet my sister," I say.

  "Trust me. You don't want to bring her to dinner. Not with Fiona's mood."

  Deep breath. I have to push back to get what I want from Blake. "Then meet her tonight. Come over for dinner."