A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

0.8 think of this date like an interview

An eyebrow raise. "'Interesting' is such an... interesting way to spin the story." He shrugs. "We'll run with it, though. We should begin our interview-like date because we're taking up so much space." 

He gives me a cynical glance, to which I respond with a sarcastic "ha-ha." I try to quell the nervousness in my stomach, poking it with a needle so that it pops like a balloon. As we board a taxi, I remind myself over and over that it's not an actual date, that this is Jack the Asshole we're talking about, that I'm merely doing this because of our contract. 

Still, my little outfit stunt does not help with my case. It doesn't help either, when the taxi makes a sharp curve to the left and Jack accidentally brushes against me, warmth encasing my exposed skin. 

My palms have gone sweaty and my heart is beating alarmingly fast. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I should not be going on a date—even a fake date—with someone involved with murder. 

I sneak a peek at Jack, who's looking out the window. He looks so normal in his office clothes, his mouth in a neutral line with his gaze focused on the whirlwind of city colors, that even I forget he's helped me with murder and paid for the dead body to be taken away. 

I shiver and Jack glances at me. "What, am I supposed to give you my jacket?" 

"No," I snap back. "I don't need nor do I want your jacket." 

The taxi finally pulls over and we step out. My mouth drops when I take in our surroundings. "Our date is at... Starbucks?" I squeak out in disbelief. 

"No," Jack tells me. "Unless you want to." 

We watch as toddlers run around, screaming their heads off. Preteens saunter in and out, holding ice lattes and teas. Someone accidentally drops their sandwich and begins picking up swiss cheese from the ground—only to have their dog eat it. 

"Um, that's alright," I say, eyeing another dog that has run over to eat the remaining sandwich pieces. "What did you have in mind?" 

"That." Jack points behind Starbucks. "I hope that's alright." 

It's a quaint little cottage-like restaurant, with soft lanterns hanging loosely from the wooden walls. Flowers grace the pathway to the restaurant and I stare in disbelief. "Where did you find this?" I ask. "It's so pretty." 

"Roxie recommended it to me," says Jack. "He goes there weekly to watch couples. Not because he's lonely, Roxie said, but because he needs inspiration for his romance novel." 

That is so Roxie. 

"So are you okay with this?" Jack asks, and I nod. 

We walk towards the restaurant and Jack opens the wooden door. Classical music lingers in the air and the smell of cherries fills the air. An adorable display of desserts is displayed in the front and my mouth waters. 

"Table for two?" the waitress asks, and upon Jack's nod, she brings us to a table. 

I do a quick scan of the restaurant. There are a lot of couples here and my cheeks flush when I see a girl spoon-feed her date. Is Jack going to do that? 

Don't be ridiculous, I scold myself. Upon a second inspection, it appears that the majority are couples except... 

To my diagonal right, I see a person sitting alone. He's short, broad-shouldered, and slightly gray-haired. I squint, before shaking off my nerves. 

"So, what are you getting?" I ask as the waitress brings over iced water. 

"Probably the chicken breast and broccoli plate," Jack answers. "What about you?"