The Real Deal

Yeah, but then your ex came calling, demanding payment. I did it for you so you could have this life you want now.

“Maybe. But I’m quitting the biz,” I say, and as soon as I voice it, it feels completely right. That’s exactly what I need to do. I need to focus on April, concentrate on what kind of work I want long-term, and shut down all my GigsForHire ads. I have a girlfriend now, for all intents and purposes, so I can’t pretend to be someone else’s arm candy anymore.

“Jesus. You make it sound like you’re a gigolo,” he says, as he eyes the ice cream case, surveying the mint chip, the triple chocolate, and the coconut almond fudge.

“Nope. Definitely not a hooker.”

“Are your feelings for her even real? You said she was your girlfriend when we talked on the phone. What the hell is even true?”

“Of course they’re real,” I say indignantly.

He scratches his chin, as though he’s trying to process this news. “She hired you to play her boyfriend, and you became a real thing? Sounds like a romance novel.”

I smirk. “Crazy, right?”

He fixes me with a serious stare. “You sure that’s all that’s going on?”

I cock my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. You scored a nice, rich girl. I saw that inn. They’re rolling in it. She’s loaded and she’s crazy for you. You sure you aren’t scamming her?”

I recoil. “What?”

“C’mon. Level with me. You told me to pretend you’re an actor.” He stabs my chest with a finger. “But she believes that you truly are. Why not tell her the truth? You didn’t, though, because she said to Lacey that you were auditioning for roles. You’re letting her believe this line of bullshit.”

“I’ll tell her the truth later. It wasn’t important at the time. Besides, who are you to talk?”

He shoves my shoulder. “I got clean, man. I’m on the up and up. My woman knows the deal. She knows my shit. She loves me no matter what. But you? You’re playing a part, and you’ve let her believe you’re falling for her.” He narrows his blue eyes. He has our mom’s eyes, and it always gets to me. “But are you really just scamming her? Are you working the angles to get her money?”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it? There’s a five-thousand-dollar prize on the table. How on earth are you not doing this for the money?”

“One, I don’t even know if I’ll win. And two, so what if I win?”

He shakes his head. “I expected more from you.”

“Enough of the holier-than-thou attitude. I have bills to pay, okay?” I say, nearly snapping. Some of those bills are because of him.

He drops a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, and from where I stand, it sure as hell looks like you’re pulling some kind of big con on her and her family.”

“How can you even say that?”

“You’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you’re not angling for her money? Are you honestly telling me she’s not your mark?”

I’m about to say, Are you out of your goddamn mind? when I hear another voice. A softer one, but it’s full of fire.

“Am I your mark, Theo?”

My heart crashes to the floor when I turn around to see April, her green eyes like frost. Her lips form a ruler-thin line.

“No. You’re not,” I say quickly, reaching for her, desperately trying to right this ship. “I can explain.”

She steps away, holds up her hands. “I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I have the T-shirt.” She gestures wildly to the ice cream case. “Enjoy your ice cream. The mint chip leaves a great aftertaste.” She pauses, raises her chin, and fires. “Unlike some other things.”





Chapter Thirty-eight

Theo

I’d rather be riding a Ferris wheel than be rushing out the door, chasing April down the street, my heart cratering.

That feeling that everything is crashing into you, that your chest has been hollowed out, and you can’t hold on? That’s it. Right now. My skin prickles as I call out her name.

“April!”

She shakes her head and jams her hand behind her, like a receiver with the football trying to ward off the defense. She’s not running, though, and fortunately, I’m taller and determined. With my long stride, I catch up to her at the end of the block, reaching for her arm. She shakes me off.

“What?”

“Let me explain.”

She cackles, lifting her chin like she’s challenging me to tell her something amazing. “Let me get my popcorn. This is going to be good if you want to explain. Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes, I heard everything from the prize to the bills to the con.”

“April,” I say, and then I fumble on what to say next. Because this is not how I wanted to tell her. This is not how things were supposed to go.

“Ah, I thought it was something like that.” The sarcasm drips from her voice.

“I’m not a scammer. Everything I’ve told you is true, but I’m not an actor. Not really.”

She laughs, like she just can’t believe me. “Maybe you want to try that again. Because you kind of contradicted yourself right in the middle of your—” She raises her arms and draws exaggerated air quotes. “—‘explanation.’”

I rub my hand over the back of my neck. I try again, exhaling heavily. “I’m a bartender. Xavier can vouch for me. The only acting I do is this stuff. The boyfriend-for-hire jobs.”

A cough bursts from her mouth. She crosses her arms over her breasts. “And you’re awesome at it. Hell, it should be your full-time gig. You don’t need any other work, since you do this so well.”

Her tone is harsh, and I deserve every angry word.

“This isn’t what I want,” I spit out.

“Then what do you want? To swindle money from well-off women?” She stares at me, like I’m a math problem. Like she can’t even conceive someone like me exists. She holds up her hand. “I don’t even want to know.”

“I’m not trying to take your money. I’m trying to earn enough to pay off a debt. Okay? Life hasn’t always been easy for me. My brother and I had to do everything on our own. We had nothing. Absolutely nothing. I told you that. It’s true.”

“So you con women? Is that why you took me to the tree house? Wear down my defenses, tell me you want to be with me in the city, and then drain my accounts?” She says all this as if it’s incredulous, and it is. “News flash. I’m not rich. I just have a job that pays well.”

“I don’t want your money. I just wanted to earn a living to pay off the debt that my brother’s ex is chasing around. When he went to prison for stock fraud, his ex came to collect on a big fat debt, and I didn’t want him to know. I didn’t want Heath to have one more thing hanging over him and keeping him from going straight,” I say, laying it all on the line as I tell her. “So I started the boyfriend-for-hire gigs to earn money on the side to pay off his debt to Addison. The only reason I’m remotely good at acting is that my brother and I are former con artists. We paid our way through college working cons on the Jersey Shore.”

Her laughter turns into the coldest sound I’ve ever heard. “Are you kidding me? Are you seriously saying this? Are these words coming out of your mouth?”

“Yes,” I say, biting out the word. “Yes, it’s all true. You can ask my brother.”

“Your brother who went to prison? He’s your character witness?”

“Yeah,” I say, digging my heels in. “Does that make him less of a person because he went to prison?”