The courage of life is often a less dramatic spectacle than the courage of a final moment; but it is no less a magnificent mixture of triumph and tragedy.
John F. Kennedy
JENNIE
"What do you want to eat?" Lalisa asks.
We're currently taking a break, because my stomach won't stop growling. The questionnaire took longer than we originally thought it would, so we ended up skipping breakfast. The hunger has been torturous given my love for food. I even listed eating as my biggest hobby. Lalisa's is MMA.
I smirk. "You tell me, Jennie Expert."
I'm becoming way too comfortable around Lalisa, but I genuinely trust her not to hurt me. I actually like her company. It's better than what I normally do on a Sunday, which is homework. And if I'm being honest, I can see myself enjoying this whole fake fiancée thing.
This is a nice place to live, I don't have to pay for food and housing, I'm closer to the heart of campus than I was before, and I can sleep through the night without waking up from Doyeon's snores or the sound of someone drunkenly stumbling through the hall.
Lalisa playfully shakes her head at me. She seems less annoyed with me now. "Chicken Pad Thai?"
I nod. "If we're doing Thai, you'll get the Pad See Ew with Beef and Shrimp."
I bask in her look of approval at my awesome memorizing skills. Truthfully, my skills aren't as good as Lalisa's, which I suspect is the result of her having an eidetic memory. Me, on the other hand? I'm a pig. I just never forget anything food related.
Lalisa picks up her phone to call Rosé, who I learned is her assistant, for the food order. According to our questionnaire led conversation, she's been having an attitude problem lately, but Lalisa's reluctant to fire her because she's been working with her since she started the company while at Wilton.
It'll take too fucking long for her to train someone else. Her words, not mine. Personally, I don't commend her for working for her for over half a decade without a promotion. What is she thinking? No wonder she's so crabby.
While Lalisa is talking to Rosé, I decided to turn my phone off airplane mode. My phone vibrates for a solid minute with a bunch of incoming texts before stopping. I have 27 unread texts, all from Doyeon, and a voicemail from her, too. They're all from around 4 A.M. on the night we went to Rogue, except the most recent one, which is a lone text from last night.
Doyeon: Ur at Lalisa's???????????!!!!!!!!!
Doyeon: Did I read that right?
Doyeon: Hello?
Doyeon: Jennie! U can't just drop a bomb like that and not reply!
Doyeon: I hate u.
Doyeon: Omw home. Safe and sound no thanks to u.
Doyeon: Eating all ur Starbursts if u don't reply in 3…2…1…
Doyeon: All ur red Starbursts are in my tummy. Pink next.
Doyeon: Pink gone. Yellow's turn.
Doyeon: Seriously? Not gonna reply? Not even for Starbursts?
Doyeon: I hate u so much! Don't leave me hanging! LALISA MANOBAN?!
Doyeon: U guys better have sex.
Doyeon: Take a pic of Little Lalisa. I need to know.
Doyeon: How big is she?
Doyeon: I bet she's reallllllyyyyy big.
Doyeon: U guys have to have babies.
Doyeon: And get married.
Doyeon: She won't poison u, I promise. I won't let her.
Doyeon: If u don't fuck her, I will.
Doyeon: Jeeeennieeeee, I need to know.
Doyeon: Ur the worst roomie ever.
Doyeon: I ate all ur Starbursts.
Doyeon: I'm sleeping on ur bed. The only way u can stop me is by replying.
Doyeon: Grrrrrrr….
Doyeon: I'm calling the cops if u don't text back…
Doyeon: Ugh… U suck.
Doyeon: I'm giving u 24 hours to text back, then I'm calling the cops. I mean it, Loosey Goosey!
I roll my eyes. Those texts have pretty decent grammar and spelling given how drunk Doyeon probably was when she typed them. I open my call log and tap the voicemail button. I click play, pressing the phone to my ear and plugging my other ear with a finger to hear well.
When I glance up at Lalisa's, she's staring at me, no longer on the phone with Rosé. I mouth Doyeon's name as the beginnings of the voicemail start to play. Lalisa takes the phone from my hands.
"Hey!" I say, watching helplessly as she puts the phone on speaker and restarts the voicemail.
I wait in mortified anticipation as Doyeon's message commences, her drunken voice crisp and loud on the speakers.
"Loosey Goosey! You better answer your phone. What happened to bros before hos?" She pauses. "Or is it chicks before dicks?" There's some rustling. "I'm eating all of your Starbursts, Jennie. There are only oranges left for me to eat, while you're at Lalisa's, probably enjoying her yummy cock."
Oh, gosh.
My hands cover my face. I can't even look at Lalisa.
Doyeon isn't done embarrassing me. "I bet she's huge. What is she? 8 inches? 9? Don't tell me she's, like, a one incher. I swear, I'll be so disappointed. I won't be able to look at another dick again."
I leap up, trying to snatch the phone from Lalisa's hand. But she's unsurprisingly quicker than me, pausing the message before tackling me onto the bed. She has both my wrists bound with one of her hands and my body trapped beneath her. I hold my breath and close my eyes. Her whole body is intimately pressed against mine, so I can't think straight.
Then, she presses play on the message again with her free hand.
"Gosh, could you imagine having sex with Lalisa Manoban? If anybody deserves it, it's you after that three year dry spell."
Two, I want to correct, but what's the point?
That's still a long time.
I groan and peek an eye open. Lalisa is grinning, which actually makes her look human. It reminds me of the time I went to Disneyland with my group home on a weekday, and there was no line for Space Mountain. I went on the ride again and again and again that day, wanting to draw out the rare gift until I couldn't anymore. I want to do the same with Lalisa's smile, because there might not be a next time.
I think about snatching my iPhone out of her hands and taking a picture. But not before deleting the voicemail, of course. This is the largest I've ever seen Lalisa smile, and it's naturally at my expense.
Doyeon is the worst best friend ever.
"Tell me if she makes you orgasm," she continues. "I bet you'll have multiple orgasms." Doyeon yawns. "Lalisa Orgasms. They're probably so good that they deserve their own name. Lilorgasms? Lisgasms? As—" There's a loud snore. Doyeon fell asleep over the phone.
We wait for more, Lalisa's body still pressed against mine, but after thirty more seconds of snores, she ends the voicemail. I note that she doesn't delete it.
"Lisgasms?" she asks.
"Shut up," I say, very aware that she's still on me and my hands are still bound by her.
She dips her head lower, nuzzling her face into my neck before whispering into my ear, "She's not wrong, you know. The things I can do to you will ma—"
Of course, that's when Rosé chooses to show up, not even bothering to knock.
"Lis—" she pauses when she sees us, a harsh look instantly crossing her face.
The things she can do to me will what?! I need to know. I immediately hate Rosé for interrupting us. I mentally thank her for it, too. Who knows what would have happened if she didn't?
I take a moment to study her for the first time. She's pretty. Really pretty, with pale blonde hair, wide hazel brown eyes, a petite frame and endlessly long legs. Naturally, she's also well-dressed and has on nude pumps painted a famous red at the soles. All in all, she looks like someone more suited to be Lalisa's fake fiancée than me.
I'm not jealous, though. If I'm going to get through this experience unscathed, I can't like her like that. I can't even think like that. Lalisa still has dangerous mafia connections, and while I know her pretty well after hours of going over green card questionnaires and am confident she won't hurt me, it still isn't enough to form a real relationship bond that only time is capable of. And without that bond, I have no justification for jealousy.
So, yeah… that little clench I feel in my heart?
That's not jealousy.
Nope!
Not even a little!
I eye her ridiculously long legs again.
Is my face turning a little green?
Rosé is still staring at me with narrowed eyes when I'm done with my perusal of her. Her eyes focus on my hands, which are bound by her, and I realize that our position looks way too intimate. To be fair, it feels that way, too.
Judging by the pained look on her face as she sees Lalisa and me in a compromising situation, I realize that she's not stupid for working for the same company—the same woman—for more than half a decade without a promotion. She's stupid for doing all that because she loves her boss despite the fact that she clearly doesn't feel the same way.
And she definitely doesn't.
I could tell this when she dismissed her so easily earlier, her tired tone I now know was from exhaustion over her infatuation. I can tell this now, too, in the way that she doesn't give a damn about how close we are, that we're doing this in front of her. She's still looking at me, a stormy expression in her exquisitely brown eyes.
The things I can do to you will…
Gosh, I still want her to finish that sentence.
It is Lalisa's unnerving attention that makes me sit up quickly, pushing her away. She lets me, though I feel even more self-conscious without her covering me. My legs are in plain view under her t-shirt, which hitched high up my body when she tackled me. I push it down, thankful that it didn't raise high enough to reveal my girly bits. Jumping up, I pretend to be unfazed.
"Let my help you with that," I say, eyeing the takeout bags in her arms.
She has two bags, which look to be holding more than just the Pad Thai and Pad See Ew Lalisa and I ordered. That's fine by me. The more food the merrier.
She pushes my hand away and says, "Nonsense. I can do it."
I hold my hands up in mock surrender, hiding my smirk at the annoyed look on Lalisa's face. She's her assistant. If she irritates her, she should show her the door. From what I've seen, she'd just walk back in… without knocking.
We follow Rosé downstairs, my stomach grumbling a few times along the way. I shove Lalisa with my shoulder when it makes her laugh for the millionth time. Rosé looks on in contempt.
I almost feel bad for the girl. She clearly has the hots for her, and here I am, a complete stranger in a position she desperately wants to be in. She's been here for five years. I've been here for just over a day, and I've made more progress. That has gotta suck.
I watch as she unloads the bags. I'm right. There are three takeout containers instead of just two. She places the three of them down on the dining table. The one labeled "Pad Thai" is placed on the tablemat on the left of the one labeled "Fried Rice." On the place mat to the right of the Fried Rice, she places Lalisa's Pad See Ew. I see what she's doing. She's putting herself between Lalisa and me, separating us so she can sit next to her.
Lalisa studies her as she takes a seat. She has a nonchalant expression pasted on her face, but I see how tense her shoulders are. Does she really think she can pull this coy shit on someone as smart as Lalisa?
Lalisa doesn't sit. Instead, she grabs both of our food containers and makes her way into the living room. "You're welcome to stay in the penthouse while you eat your food, Rosé, but Jennie and I will be eating ours over here."
She's drawing boundaries between them, and I wonder how often she has to do this. From the look on Rosé's face, I would say it's not often enough. She looks crestfallen and heartbroken rather than used to it. I briefly wonder if they have a history together. If they do, I need to know about it if I'm going to play her fake fiancée well.
When I take the seat on the floor next to her, I say under my breath, "Is she going to be a problem?"
Lalisa shakes her head, opening my takeout box for me. It's placed on the coffee table in front of us.
"Nah. She just has a little crush on me." She hands me a fork after I shake my head at the chopsticks she offers me.
"Little?" I snort, my voice still low. I point back and forth between us. "I take it she knows that this is fake?" I remember that she was the one to drop off the green card questionnaires.
"Yeah," Lalisa sighs. "It can't be helped. She's my assistant, so she has to know everything. She signed an NDA as part of her employee contract, though."
"And you trust her?"
"She hasn't let me down thus far."
I nod, but my mind isn't at ease. Over the past 24 hours, I've come to realize that I have something to lose in this, too, beyond the financial benefits. I'm already a part of this. My fate was sealed as soon as I was introduced to people as Lalisa's fiancée.
If word gets out that I lied about this, that we are lying about this relationship, my professional reputation will be ruined. New York City is a big city, but Lalisa's celebrity is even bigger. Being branded a liar so publicly will ruin my job opportunities here. My future here.
And all it'll take for everything to come crashing down is Rosé opening her mouth about what she knows. She likes Lalisa. I sympathize with that, but it doesn't mean I like the power her knowledge has over me. She has the motive to hurt me, and I'll be damned if I let that happen.
The thought sends a dark shudder down my back.