I have a habit of talking to myself.
Growing up I always felt like there was no one around willing to listen to me or interested in what I had to say. My parents were always busy working and the few times I did attempt conversation with them, it would end in a lecture that brought up all my past mistakes and shortcomings and ways I could have been a better daughter. I quickly learned there was no point trying to talk to them after that.
In my teen years I invested in a diary. Writing down my thoughts definitely helped a lot but I still missed the act of having conversations. So I moved on to talking to myself. Sometimes it would all be in my head with facial expressions to match and sometimes I would legitimately monologue out loud. Either way, it looks crazy as hell and has always drawn unwarranted attention.
That's why I'm not the least bit fazed at the man sitting across from me, his Starbucks bagel hanging from his mouth as he watches me with a look of genuine concern. I think he's about to cry.
"In conclusion," I continue, looking down at my notes and reading off of them. "If we stick to these rules and this outline, our arrangement should be more than manageable and both parties will likely walk away satisfied."
I nod as if Sawyer is in front of me to hear the end of my presentation but he's actually running late. Really late.
My eyes involuntarily shift to the clock and my chest compresses when I realize he was supposed to meet me almost an hour ago. I tried really hard not to stress myself out and constantly watch the clock but after rehearsing and going over my notes three times, I'm all out of ways to distract myself.
I bite my lip, mentally going through all the possibilities.
He's stuck in traffic. But it's a Saturday morning.
He's sleeping in. But he texted me two hours ago saying he'd be here by 12.
He accidentally fell back asleep. But he's never been late for anything a day in his life.
He changed his mind about our meeting or he wasn't serious about our arrangement to begin with and now you're the idiot who thought he was actually serious about helping you.
Yup. I'm going to go with the last one on account of it making the most sense given our history and, oh, you know, my general bad luck in life. Ding, ding, ding, we have a loser! It's me!
Fog fills my head, makes it hard to think rationally, and then I'm trying to gather my things as quickly as I can. It feels like there's a vice around my neck but I'm desperately trying to ignore it otherwise I might end up on the floor, unable to catch my breath.
"Get up," my mother hissed. "You're causing a scene."
But didn't she understand? While the kids around me ran around and got in line for their new teacher, I felt like my knees were nailed to the ground. I didn't want a new teacher. I didn't like change. What if the new kids in my grade were mean? What if the new teacher was mean? What if I got bad grades this year? What if I failed?
"I'm s-sor—" I tried, gasping and desperately trying to get up to my feet.
"She's crying!" One of the kids gasped and even though I was on my knees staring at the tarmac, I knew all eyes were on me. I heaved harder. "Mommy, look at her!"
"She's fine," came my mother's breezy laugh followed by a tough grip on my bicep. I was yanked up and it only made my stomach turn over. I was going to puke. "She's just our little drama queen."
"The sensitive kind." I felt my father's large hand on my head, ruffling my hair. "Wipe your face, kiddo. You know you're fine."
I wasn't, but I knew I had to be.
I'm breathing in and out and focusing on what's in front of me. Nothing else. Am I disappointed that Sawyer didn't show up and will probably have a laugh about this? Sure. But am I going to completely fall apart over it? No. I'm going to breathe deeply, pack my purse, grab a latte, and go on a walk. I'm going to fine. Because I have to be.
"Tink!"
My knees shudder and I can't stop myself from falling back into my seat, blinking to make sure I'm not hallucinating. All I can do is watch Sawyer in a daze as he runs toward my table, panting.
"Worst. Morning. Ever," he huffs, coughing into his fist. He collapses into the seat across from me, still panting, still yet to notice I'm breathing as hard as he is. "You know I always call Holden an ass for giving me shit about my car but the son of a bitch wasn't wrong. She gave out on me and I tried to save her, I really fucking did, but I think she's done for. For real this time. How bad do you think it's going to be when he finds out? Also, do you have a phone charger I can borrow?"
Sawyer shakes his head, barking out a laugh. He slicks his hair back out of his eyes before finally looking at me. That's when his smile disappears.
"Tink?" His does a sweep of me he straightens up, growing serious. "What's wrong?"
I should get my act together. I should. But I'm processing his explanation. From what I can make sense of, his car broke down and he was trying to fix it and that's why he ran late. He's here now which means he didn't ditch the arrangement and he doesn't intend to make a fool of me. He asked for a charger so his phone probably died and he couldn't update me. He's being perfectly reasonable and I'm...being a drama queen.
I'm embarrassed. Frustratingly so. What's worse is I can't seem to pull myself together because of it. Why is it so hard to be in control of my thoughts and emotions all the time? Why do they have more control over me than I do over them?
"Water," I manage and place my hand on my forehead like a visor, blocking his view of me. "Need water."
"Of course." His chair immediately scrapes back and then he's gone. My eyes fall shut.
"You're so freaking stupid," I mumble. I created one bad outcome in my head and acted as if it really happened. And now here I am, looking like a fool for being bested by myself. "So stupid."
It's not as bad it seemed moments ago. Sawyer is here. He's going to help me. We're going to convince my parents I'm not single and that I don't need their interference. I'm going to prove that my job is worthy and so am I. I'm not the little girl I once was. I'm moving on. I have moved on.
My heart rate slows down enough that I can actually concentrate on evening my breaths out. A few breaths in and a few breaths out later, I'm light-headed but that's as far as the damage goes.
I'm so dramatic, is all I can think, even now. I'm still trying to convince myself everything is okay when Sawyer comes back with a cup of ice water. He places it in front of me, along with an iced coffee and a butter croissant. I blink at all three items.
"You say you're not the overused white blonde but you sure love your Starbucks like one," he teases, gesturing at the food and drinks. "I've never seen you go a day without this as your breakfast in the last two years."
What the what? I grab the coffee and turn it around to read the sticker and yup—tall iced vanilla oat latte. My favourite drink.
"You—" I'm trying to gather the words. "You know my Starbucks order?"
He shrugs, watching me with a small grin. "I pay attention, Tink."
Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? I hug myself, way too aware of myself right now, but also realize that the complete brain fart Sawyer caused also successfully distracted me from an impending panic attack. Either that or my brain is too broken to panic right now. I'll go with the latter.
"Thanks." I clear my throat and point to his side of the table. "No breakfast for you?"
"I'll have your half," he says knowingly. "The half you never finish."
He's right about that too. I always make it through half the drink and the croissant before quitting on it. It's out of habit more than anything. By that point in my day my schedule starts picking up and I don't have time to eat so I'll pass the leftovers to anyone who wants it. Now, even when I have the time to eat everything, I just can't.
"Wow. Aren't we just a regular old Sherlock?" I shift uncomfortably in my seat, sipping my water so I have something else to do other than ponder why I've never noticed that Sawyer has been using his voodoo powers on me all this time.
"Nancy Drew is way better," he argues. "She was solving crimes after barely hitting puberty. That's impressive.
"You sure seem to have an obscene knowledge of fictional and animated characters."
"Little sister," he offers as a short explanation and moves on before I can ask more. "Why the hell does it look like you're about to hand in your homework?"
"Hmm?" I glance down at the papers I managed to stack while I was dying. Fun times. "It's everything we need to go over."
"What's there to go over? I help you and you help me. Tit for tat. I can be the tit, if you want."
"How progressive of you," I roll my eyes. "But it's actually not that simple. If we're going to make this convincing, we have to get it right."
"I agree." His eyes light up playfully and I know I'm not going to like what he says before he even says it. "Using tongue should really do the trick."
I knew it.
I scowl and choose to ignore the unwarranted images of Sawyer kissing me. With tongue. There's no doubt he'd be good at it. He's probably the type who would push me against the wall and take what he wants. Be totally confident about it too and...
And why the hell am I daydreaming about the unspeakable? The what-shall-never-be-named-or-mentioned? The forbidden spank bank? Harper Davis, you deserve freaking jail.
"Everything okay?" Sawyer blinks innocently, his dimple poking out.
"Just resisting the urge to bleach my ears so I never have to hear those words again," I chirp. "Also, you just proved exactly why we need these rules and regulations."
"Rules?"
"Rules."
"Rules," he repeats and nods as if it's settling in. "And let me guess—you made a list."
My eyes narrow. "Don't be snarky."
"Not at all. I always appreciate a good list for every possible situation."
"Now you're just being mean."
"Never," he winks and something funny swirls in my stomach. Probably the common sense I'm losing at an alarming rate. "Lay it on me."
I'm positive he's still making fun of me but I'm also way past caring. I go through the stacks of paper until I find the one that has all the rules I wrote down last night. I focus on the sheet and ignore Sawyer's stare that I can feel boring into me.
"Rule number one: no sex."
I chance a glance at Sawyer, not the least bit surprised to find him biting the inside of his cheek to hold back what looks like laughter. "And miss out the chance to get your hands on all this? Your call, Tink."
God, he's full of it. So laidback while I catch on fire from the ground up. I frown and continue, desperate to get past the awkwardness. "Rule number two: this can't come anywhere near the office. I don't want it to interfere with our jobs or working morale."
His nod is more sincere this time. "Agreed."
"Rule number three: seeing other people is not allowed until my parents are gone. It's the best way to avoid unnecessary drama and mess."
"Good call," he comments are I try to contain my surprise. I was sure he'd object to that one. I even had a section written out to convince him why he should agree. Didn't he have a new date to parade every day?
"Right." I clear my throat. "Rule number four: physical touch will remain at a minimum. Hand holding and hugging is okay. Possibly a peck on the cheek if the situation calls for it. If my parents aren't there, no touching."
"Fine, but I'd like to put ass-smacking on the table. Mine, by the way."
I cut him a dry look. "Tempting, but no."
"Your loss, babe." He waves a hand. "Next."
"That." I point at him. "Rule number five: minimal nicknames. Tink is bad enough. I don't need cheesy endearments thrown my way."
"Babe is cheesy?"
"One of the worst ones."
"Baby girl?"
"I take it back. That's the worst one."
"Baby?" He drawls slowly, tilting his head.
That damn stomach swirl again. Maybe my body is rejecting this arrangement. I wouldn't blame it. "Mediocre but acceptable."
"Sugar muffin?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Puppy pie."
"I hate you."
"No, wait. I got it." He sits up and regards me with a dramatic pause. "Snookie puffs."
"Sawyer!"
He chuckles, a low and amused sound that turns all heads in vicinity to him. I don't even think he realizes his effect. "Relax, Tink. They're just nicknames. I'll use normal ones, okay?"
"You could also use my name, you know. The one I've never heard you use in the two years that I've known you."
"Nah." He leans forward and gets in my space. I freeze and tell myself not to move back. I bet he can sense my fear. Sawyer just grins his boyish grin at whatever expression I'm wearing. "Gotta make sure I stand out against all your contenders."
Aaaaaand we're back to him making fun of me. He knows good and well there's no contenders to speak of or I wouldn't even need his help in the first place. I cross my arms as an added boundary between us.
"Last rule: no feelings. No getting jealous, no forgetting this is fake, and absolutely no falling in love with each other."
His dimples make another appearance as he places his hand on top of mine. I swallow the nerves gathered in my throat when he gently brushes his thumb across my knuckles. There's nothing more Sawyer loves to do than playfully flirt with me and watch me make a fool of myself.
"I won't if you won't," he whispers, mischief written all over him.
The tips of my ears burn up and I yank my hand away. "You wish."
He sighs dramatically. "Sure do."
I immediately frown and redirect my focus on the next order of business. He's just poking fun at me. I asked for this, you know. I better get used to all the jokes and mockery while I can because we've got a long month ahead of us.
"Whatever." I clear my throat. "Here. Time to go over these charts."
"What are all these names?"
"My family members. They all live back home so it's not like you'll be meeting them but on the off chance that my mother tries to quiz you or catch us in the act, you'll be prepared."
Sawyer's eyes just about bug out as he scans the sheet. "These are all your family members? What the hell did you do—kidnap and convert them into your lineage?"
"You won't get it." I save him the explanation. One of the few things you can never explain as an ethnic person is how you could possibly have that many relatives. Trust me—we can.
Memorizing everyone's names, occupations, offsprings, and more takes a good hour for Sawyer. I have to admit I'm impressed. Not only because he actually manages to learn the whole chart but also because of how seriously he takes it. He listens attentively and commits to the whole thing. Maybe that means we can actually pull this off.
"Now you know everything about Mom and Dad," I conclude, putting the sheet away. That was hard to go through for multiple reasons.
Sawyer eyes me for a moment. "Gotta say, Tink, I have lots of questions."
"They don't need answers," I cut in. "Just...help me get through this next month, okay? And don't try to intervene in our personal matters. You'd only be wasting your time."
I can tell he wants to disagree. I've seen that look on his face when he's fought corporate matters and gone toe-to-toe with our boss. I'm expecting him to do the same with me but after a clench of his jaw, he simply nods. My shoulders drop in relief.
"They'll be here tomorrow," I tell him, as a reminder to him and myself. "Be at my place by noon."
"Sure." I can almost see all the questions running through his eyes. I didn't offer much except surface level stuff but I'm sure I sounded distant and cold when discussing my parents. "And they'll be here until the end of the month?"
"Yes. I know it's a lot of your time to take up and this is really a lot to ask so you're more than welcome to say no."
And he is. Would it send me into a spiral that would end with me running down the streets barefoot screaming mercy? Sure. Would I somehow get through it because I've always had to overcome everything myself? Absolutely.
"Nah." He crosses his arms, the action naturally bulging out his biceps that strain against his sleeves. I stare. When did he get those? "A deal's a deal. Besides, we still need to go over my end of the deal and I didn't exactly say it's sunshine and rainbows either."
That gets my attention. I'm instantly on high alert. "You said—"
"That it's nothing sexual or illegal. Still isn't. But if I've got to deal with some crazies then so do you."
"Tell me now."
"Not yet," he sighs and pushes his hair back. I don't like the troubled frown on his face. Sawyer's too freakishly happy for that. "We have enough on our plate with your parents coming tomorrow. Let's get through that and then we can deal with my shit-show."
I eye him, my suspicions at an all time high. How bad could it be? I'm the one with self-centred and terrorizing parents. He's seen the gist of it and he still seems to be worried about his thing. Exactly what am I getting myself into?
"Okay," I relent, ignoring how increasingly anxious his secrecy is making me feel. I know I'm going to spend all night tossing and turning thinking about it and essentially getting no sleep. Normally I'd rip into him for it but he really is doing me a huge favour so I can let it go this once, I guess. "But after meeting my parents tomorrow, you have to tell me. I'm not going to sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop. I don't do well with situations like that."
"I'll tell you," he insists and I believe him. Sawyer might be an ass in a lot of ways but I've never seen him go out of his way to hurt someone.
"Thanks." I push my half-finished drink and croissant toward him, ignoring his knowing smile. "And...thank you for helping me. It's a bizarre and unprofessional ask but thanks for agreeing and not dancing on my grave."
He pops half the croissant in a single bite and grins around it. "How could I possibly do such a thing when you're the leprechaun here?"
Then you better start doing a little jig and collecting a pot of gold because that time might come sooner than you think.
Jerk.
I turn away and look out the window so he can't see the small smile that bests me. I can't believe we're doing this. I just pray to every power in the universe that it doesn't backfire.
__________________________
A/N
AND SO IT BEGINS.
Harper jumping to the worst conclusions and damn near losing her mind—she's just like me fr. Literally the every day reality of being an anxious overthinker who assumes the world is out to get them.
OKAY BUT SAWYER KNOWING HARPER'S EVERY DAY STARBUCKS ORDER??? "I PAY ATTENTION TINK" HAD MY KITTY PURRING. My standards: skyrocketed.
Also, what's Sawyer hiding? I wonder if anyone will be able to guess the plot twist?
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Happy Reading :)