"Fuck."

I looked at the dark screen of my phone and bit my lip. Did I just hang up on Cameron without giving him a chance to explain?

"Fuck, what am I doing?"

I re-dialed his number, but the line rang and rang with no reply. He was either on another call, or upset that I'd hung up on him—and I couldn't blame him.

I opted to shoot him a text, instead:

Me: Hey, I'm sorry for hanging up. I got anxious, and this is all so sudden and it freaked me out. I need more time to think about it, ok?

I peeked at the screen, waiting, wondering if he'd reply; or if I'd fucked all this up by letting my emotions overwhelm me.

Cameron: Okay.

I raised my eyebrows. "Okay? Okay, what? You forgive me? You're giving me time to think?" I hurled the phone onto the couch, beside me. "Fuck. I'll assume that's an okay to all of it, then."

I didn't feel like arguing further about this. Yes, Cameron had a say—I was his girlfriend, after all—but ultimately, he was right. This was my decision, and I needed to sleep on it.

But I didn't sleep. I tossed and turned, envisioning all the possibilities. Saying no, Cameron getting fired for not being able to force me into something I didn't want, something he didn't want. Saying yes, and Cameron being dejected for the remainder of our relationship, unable to handle Leo and I fake dating. Saying yes, and Cameron breaking up with me for it. Or saying yes, and having a real relationship with Cameron, and a fake one with Leo, and getting to know Leo, and getting to touch Leo...

That last one wasn't as much a nightmare as it was a forbidden fantasy. Of course I was still intrigued by Leo. Of course I'd still listen to his songs and be one of his biggest fans; and as one of his biggest fans, wasn't it normal for me to dream of getting to spend time with him? Dating him? For real or for fake, it was an excuse to be around one of my favorite singers, and maybe even hang out with his awesome band.

I wouldn't be able to make this decision on my own. Daphne, ever-so-intuitive, knew something was up, so she invited me out for drinks after work.

"Spill," she said, after ordering us both mojitos. That was my froo-froo drink, and she knew it; she'd ordered it to get me tipsy enough to be honest with her and not hold back.

"Cameron and I had a bit of a fight," I said, tapping my nails to the table's surface. We were at a high-end bar that I'd never been to, and I felt slightly underdressed next to the hot chicks in high heels and the delicious men in finely pressed suits. I wore business casual work attire; everyone else wore come-fuck-me outfits.

"Don't mind them," said Daphne, who was wearing a pair of sleek, sexy red heels that matched her red nail-polish. She'd gone bold with a shade of hot pink lipstick, and had changed into a body-tight black dress that made me salivate. But she wasn't here for me—she was here for the guys. She'd told me earlier, as she took off her work outfit and slipped into this one, that this was a bar for hook-ups without questions. She was in the mood for a hook-up. "A bit of a fight over what?"

One man passed the table and eyed Daphne with intrigue, but then saw me—in my patterned work slacks and my low-cut top—and licked his lips. I shook my head to ensure he understood I wasn't interested.

"Remember I told you I met Leo?" Our drinks arrived, and I didn't even wait for us to say cheers before I took a big sip. The soothing mint hit my tongue and I breathed in in delight.

"How could I forget? Except, oh, that's right," Daphne clinked her glass to mine, "you didn't give me any details."

I shrugged. "Because Cameron asked me not to. He was weird about it. But anyway," I took another sip, "that whole meeting was awkward but also super informative. Leo is very hands-on—literally—and as it turns out, he took an interest in me."

"An interest? Hands-on? What did he do? Touch you?" She wiggled her eyebrows. "Did you get fondled by Leo Lee?"

I shushed her—her voice was so loud it overpowered the techno music playing in the background. "Stop," I said, wagging my finger at her. "He didn't fondle me. But he was close, and he whispered in my ear often. It was," I flushed, "kind of hot."

"But Cameron said you were his." She squinted at me. "How did all that go down with him?"

"He..." I shook my head at another man trying to come on to me. "He was disturbed, and we talked it out, and I assured him I was his, and only his. But the issue is..."

"Oh, boy." Daphne swept a hand over her forehead in dramatic fashion. "Are we getting to the part where I tell you I told you so? I did have that weird energy and vibe from Cameron."

"Cameron's not the one being weird here. Well, not quite." I noticed a woman looking me up and down, from a few tables away. She had the same vibe as Daphne—the sleek dress, the hot high heels—and she was absolutely my type. I hated to have to shake my head at her, too; under other circumstances, I'd have ditched Daphne and gone straight over to her, to introduce myself. After a few more cocktails, of course. "It's Leo."

Daphne blinked at me. "I'm gonna need you to get to the point now, because I'm getting bored."

I rolled my eyes. "He got himself in trouble—"

"—oh, that marriage scandal, that's right." She winked at me. "Did he try to get you involved in that?"

"No. He...needs to fake-date someone to cover his ass up." I gulped. "And he wants to fake-date me."

Daphne nearly dropped her drink. It slipped out of her hands as she'd been holding it up to better twirl her tongue around her straw, flirting with some dudes at a nearby table. But my words broke off her flirtation, and after putting her cup down, she slammed both hands to the table, shaking it.

"He what? Fake-date?" Her jaw dropped. "So that's a real thing, then?"

"That's what I said when Cameron told me."

"Cameron told you?" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dear Lord, I'm going to need some shots for this."

She flagged down a waiter and ordered us shots of some mint-lime rum she'd grown fond of. Whenever I tried to continue my story, she shushed me, begging me to wait until she'd had a hit of strong liquor to her brain.

"Okay," she said, once we'd both had our drinks. My brain buzzed, and that hot woman across the room was still ogling me. I grew fidgety, craving a taste of her lips. "Fake-dating is a real thing, and Leo wants to fake-date you, and Cameron was the one to deliver this news?"

"Yeah." I did my hardest to pull my gaze away from the mysterious woman. I was exclusive with Cameron. For now, at least. If I elected to fake-date Leo, did that change things? Did that make us polyamorous? Gosh, I had so many questions, and wasn't sure who to ask. Daphne, as sexually open as she was, was a monogamous, straight woman, and her experiences were with one-night-stands.

"What does it all entail?" She batted her lashes as she slurped up the last drops of her minty beverage, and ordered two more—one of them being for me, though I wasn't quite done with my first. "Like, what would you have to do?"

"Parade around with him and pretend to be in love, I guess?" I twirled my straw in my glass, mixing up the rest of the beverage before it got too watery and all the liquor fell to the bottom. "Cameron said we'd have to stage stuff, go out to eat or get coffee, go to events, be hand-in-hand, kiss—"

"—kiss? Whoa, let me get this straight." Daphne pushed her hair over her shoulder and leaned over the table, putting her elbows on either side of her empty glass. "Fake-dating means real kissing? In front of everyone? You'd get to kiss Leo Lee?" Her lips parted, closed, parted again. "And Cameron is...okay with this?"

"I wouldn't say he's thrilled about it, but he feels that he doesn't have a choice. He didn't specify whether his job was at stake, and he sort of sounded like he wanted me to decline...but at the same time, he told me it'd be a great opportunity for me. It's like he doesn't want to disappoint Leo, you know? They're friends." I stared at the mint leaf floating in my beverage. "Leo asked for me specifically. I'm not sure what it means."

"It means..." Daphne took a sip of her new drink, seconds after it was delivered. "It means that Leo wants you, but he needs to find a way around Cameron, without full-on stealing you from Cameron. They're friends, you said? Cameron is his personal assistant, though. And if Leo has fake-dated before...Cameron knows how that works. The fact that Leo requested you, his girlfriend...tight spot, dear. You're pretty fucked."

"I know." I hurried to finish my old drink as my new one sat in front of me, glistening with soda and smelling of fresh, heavenly mint. Oh, boy, I was definitely too buzzed for this. "That's why I wanted to talk to someone about it, and you're the only one who knows about the situation. Somewhat."

"Somewhat?" Daphne angled back in her stool, her spine pressing into the plump, beige cushion. She crossed one leg over the other, slowly, sensually, peering at me as if studying the confines of my brain. "I know all of it, and still, I can't quite figure out what your best move is, here."

"Oh," I chuckled, "and did I mention I'd get paid for this? Enough to not have to work at LuXe anymore?"

Daphne almost spat out the gulp of liquor she'd taken. "Okay, that was an important thing to tell me, Emma." She shook her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Give me your hands."

Oh, dear; she was trying to read me, my energy. I preferred not to do this in public, but if she could give me some insight on what to do...

I put my hands in hers. She was warm, gently squeezing me in a comforting manner. "Hmm," she said, eyes still closed, lips bunching side-to-side. "That's interesting." She released me and her eyes re-opened. "Now that I have all the details," she arched one eyebrow, "I think you should consider this."

I grabbed my drink to infuse my skin with cold; her hands had grown too warm as she'd held mine, raising my body temperature to disturbing levels. "Really?"

"I mean..." Daphne cocked her head left to right, right to left. "Yes, you'd lose your spot at LuXe, and Mr. Ivy will throw a fit. But dating a celebrity, real or not...that should open some doors for you. Cameron was correct about that. And yes, I know how independent you are and how you don't want help, but wouldn't this be a leg up? A great start? It'll get you farther than what you're doing now, begging columnists and other editors to read your writing while sneaking around behind Ivy's back..."

"But the fake part of it all, that bothers me, too." I weaved a few fingers through my hair, sensing my scalp growing hot, mildly sweaty. The room became packed with people, and though everyone's cologne and perfume smelled delightful, the air was muggy and it was overwhelming. "I wouldn't want to date him for real, not while Cameron is around...I'm not good at acting, you know? Role-playing, pretend-smiling, all that shit...I'm terrible at that."

"You're good at it when Marshall picks on you, or Ivy throws shade." Daphne pursed her lips. "I'd call that acting."

"That's different. It's self-preservation," I said, my fingers curling as I remembered all the nasty mood-swings both Marshall and Mr. Ivy had put me through today. "If I show them how they affect me, they'll be too happy."

"It's acting, Emma." Daphne's lips left a pink lip mark on the neon green straw. "You can do this with Leo, too. Yes, it's in front of a way bigger audience, but I know you're capable of it. Feign your way through the emotions, okay? Like with fuck-buddies or friends-with-benefits, where you act to get them to bed, and once the deed is done, you're back to being strangers or friends, yeah?"

I frowned. Fuck-buddies and friends-with-benefits—I'd had my fair share of those through the years. Having lost my virginity at sixteen, and been in an experimenting mood, I'd had my share of experiences. Some I was proud of, some I didn't even dare tell Daphne about.

"Those kinds of situations have never ended well for me." Reminiscing over those days made me cringe. I tended to develop emotions easily if the sex was good, and most of my sexual encounters were good. I was one of those lucky girls who wasn't hard to please and who got off with ease. "My heart is fragile. Leo is...well, he's charming, you know? In his own way. If I were to be around him frequently, hold his hand, kiss him...I worry what would happen."

"You have Cameron." Daphne patted my hand; she'd been watching it as my fingers nervously tap-tapped on the table. My leg jittered under the table, too. "Being with him, knowing that you're technically exclusive with him, that should prevent your heart from getting too interested in Leo, right?"

"In theory." I rubbed the back of my neck. "The fake-dating thing...I did that for a friend in college, once. We were strictly friends, nothing more. Believe it or not, I was falling for him afterwards, and I never told him, and now he's married with kids. I'm bad with the fake stuff, Daph. Really bad."

"Emma." Daphne slid her fingers between mine. "It's probably a lot of money. Think about that; think about the possibilities, the opportunities. You could rebuild your savings account, get a better apartment in a better area. Yes, I know, you love Harlem," she waved at me with her free hand, "but in your line of work, you need to be south of Central Park, babe. Dating Leo will be beneficial to your goals, I sense that."

I sucked in my lips and glared at my drink. "So your advice is to do it?"

"My advice is to talk to Cameron." She pointed at one of the men she'd been eye-fucking and flirting with at the other table, and beckoned him over. She lowered her voice as she continued her train of thought, while the man stood up and fixed his suit before coming to us. "If Cameron called you to discuss it, that means he might want you to do it, as hard as it might be. He might need you to do it. He cares about Leo, like you said, and also cares about you...so call him. Ask him for more details, ask him how far this needs to go, for how long. Check with him what your relationship status will be during the fake-dating. Remember how this could be good for you in the long run."

She turned to the man as he approached, and touched his chest as she giggled lightly. That was it—that was her advice, and it was time for me to go home and once more try to sleep on it.

♪♪♪