A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

0.6 i've seen it in movies before

"Hi," I say brightly, and she doesn't respond. She's in shock, her heart doing a slow turn as her mind comprehends everything. 

I jab Jack in the ribcage and he scowls at me. Rule number two, I mouth. No bringing the fake dating façade into work. 

What am I supposed to do about it? Jack mouths back. 

"You two..." Irene starts, her voice dazed. Jack and I jolt to attention, two soldiers in the face of our commander, scared out of our wits. "Are you... together?" 

"No," Jack and I instantly deny. 

"I would never date someone like him," I explain to Irene's confused face. "I prefer people who are sweet, thoughtful, and who bring my self-esteem up." 

Jack smiles tightly. "Exactly," he supplies. "And I hate people, so I don't date." 

She still looks suspicious. Maybe we overdid it on convincing her. "Okay," Irene says with a tiny shrug. "Also, guess what happened after you two left?" 

We both relax. Emergency, over. 

"The police came into the restaurant!" she says excitedly, and I choke. 

I start coughing and Jack inches away from me. "I know, right?" Irene mistakes my reaction of horror as one of excitement. "It was completely crazy." 

"What happened after?" I ask weakly. 

I feel faint. I think I'm going to kneel over and have a heart attack. "Well, they came over because of a suspicious call, but then they couldn't find anything so they left." 

"That's very interesting." 

"Yes, the evening was interesting indeed," she agrees. "You know what happened later? People began telling me that Aiden confessed when I wasn't even in the room. He must've been so drunk." 

Oh yeah, that's what got us in the mess in the first place. 

Jack clears his throat and we turn towards him. "If you'll excuse us," Jack says, "we'll be on our way to actually do some work." 

Irene looks slightly embarrassed, though she lets us pass. "You didn't have to embarrass her," I whisper, as we make our way toward our cubicles. 

Our cubicles are unfortunately next to each other and on a normal day, I would've stiffly sat down, mentally preparing for the war that would soon ensue. Jack or I would make a snippy comment and then it would be a showdown of polite words with the undercurrent of venomous hate. 

It feels strange, now that we're on the same side. "She was distracting us," Jack says pointedly, as he leans back into his ergonomic chair with an alpha-like posture. 

"Yeah, but you didn't have to say it that way." I open my laptop, check my email, and begin replying to them. 

As always, Jack's typing sets me on an edge. Fast, furious, and making me feel anxious all the time. "What way?" 

"Like she's an idiot. You were like"—I drop my voice to mimic his, forcing as much arrogance into my tone as possible. "—'we'll be on our way to actually do some work.'" 

"Should I apologize for telling the truth?" 

I sigh. He's entirely missing my point. "No, but you could've said it nicely. Everyone's going to avoid you if you're consistently rude." 

"Okay." 

It's no use trying to convince him. He'll forever remain the rude co-worker that everyone's scared of. I frown. Why am I even concerned about his work reputation?