“So what is it you think we should do?” Nathan asks, and half of my brain is still zoomed in on his hand clutching the back of my chair. When I take in a deep breath, the side of his thumb brushes against my shoulder blade. Is it just me or has he been casually touching me more often? Are these little touches accidental or…
Nope, never mind.
Nicole clears her throat—probably because it feels scratchy from all that laughing. “To put it simply, you two should date.”
My jaw hits the floor so hard it makes the whole apartment building tremble. “I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear you correctly.”
“You two should date.”
I rub my ear violently. “HA! Sorry. Must have something in my ear. I keep hearing you say we should—”
“Date,” Nathan finishes the sentence for me, and goose bumps chase that word all over my skin. “That is what she’s saying. But why would we do that?” he asks Nicole.
She laughs again, and I want to steal her voice away like Ursula did to Ariel because it’s really getting on my nerves now.
“Well…” She picks up some papers in front of her and taps them into a neat pile. “Major brands are finally beginning to catch on that social media is the number one way to reach the younger demographic. They’ve all begun to seek out influencers on Instagram and TikTok and utilize their platforms to sell more products in an organic way.”
Which is why my Instagram feed constantly feels like a trip down a Target aisle.
Nicole continues, “Tide, as in the laundry detergent brand, caught wind of your viral video and loved it. Their account has had a thirty percent spike in engagement since the video went live last night, and to say they are impressed would be an understatement. They’ve offered you both a deal.” Nicole picks up the pile of papers and lays them in front of us. It looks like a contract of some sort, and the letters are so tiny and packed together I’m not sure it’s actually made for humans to read. “Tide already has a commercial ad spot scheduled during the Super Bowl, but given the massive hype around the stain-removing pen, they want you two to film a new one, playing off of what Bree said in the video everyone is going nuts for. It would be something cutesy and tongue in cheek with Nathan.”
We’re both quiet for a few beats, processing and reprocessing until we can make sense of this nonsensical information. All I can think is 1) I’m not in trouble, yay! 2) Nathan’s thumb is still touching my skin. 3) An emphasis on number two.
Nathan regains consciousness faster than me. “So why would we need to date exactly? Why can’t we just do the commercial together and that be it?”
“Couples in Hollywood do this sort of thing all the time as publicity for upcoming movies they’re promoting. It’s the same principle. They want you guys to become a couple—real or fake, depending on your preference—leading up to the commercial to continue building hype around the brand. Now, of course they know you’re in the playoffs right now, Nathan, and your time is limited, so they’re only asking for one public outing where you can be spotted and photographed looking couple-ish. There are some bullet points about posting on Instagram a certain number of times and the hashtags they would like for you to use, but it all seems doable in my opinion. Oh, and there is a non-disclosure agreement you both would have to sign.”
“And after the commercial?” Nathan asks with one tiny sideways glance at me.
“Break up, get married, whatever…it’s up to you.” She shrugs again. No big deal. Just a casual conversation among friends where the word MARRIAGE is used in reference to me and Nathan. “You should know, if you decide to take the deal, the rate is a significant amount for both of you, but you will be under contract to uphold the terms. I’ve, of course, already looked at everything to make sure they’re reasonable, and I wouldn’t even be bringing it up to you if I didn’t think it would be good for your career, Nathan. This kind of positive publicity is just the sort of thing we need to draw in more endorsement deals in the offseason.” Nicole’s bright, laser-beam eyes turn to me. “And Bree, like I said, it’s really good money. This is the amount here.”
I look down to where her manicured finger is pointing and HOLY CRAP! I would get all of those zeros from one commercial and a few dates with Nathan?!
I
glance to my right, trying to catch a glimpse of him to see what his take on all of this is, but his face is impassive. He’s waiting for me to decide first, but surely he wants to do it. I mean, this sort of thing would be amazing for his image, and pretending to date me for a few weeks would be no big deal for him because he doesn’t have feelings for me. Also, it’s a ton of money—the sort of money that could get me out of my nasty apartment and into something that probably doesn’t have mold in the walls. I could get a new car! Or—no, DUH! I can pay Nathan back for all the years of rent he has been paying on my behalf. This is huge.
I know Nathan would never hold the rent situation over my head, but it would make me feel better to have a clean slate nonetheless. The reason for wanting to pay him back is not pride or stubbornness. It’s something more complicated. It’s confidence in knowing I can provide for myself, and it’s also a form of caring for my friend. I realize he doesn’t need this money from me, but ever since we were in high school, Nathan’s friends and family have always looked to him as their financial savior, like it’s his sole responsibility to pull them out of their tight squeeze. I refuse to ever treat him like that. So, I may have to accept his friends-and-family discount on my studio rent until I figure out what my next step is, but I will pay him back for his kindness to me.
Unfortunately, it means I have to date my best friend. Could I handle crossing this friendship line and come back from it unscathed in the end? I’m skeptical.
My shoulders deflate, and Nathan notices. He looks at Nicole. “Can you give us a minute alone to talk it over?”
“Of course. I’ll be out on the balcony making a few calls while you discuss it.”
Nicole sets an innocent little pen by the papers before leaving the room. The door slams behind her, and I wince at the abrasive sound. I feel jumpy. My foot is vibrating. My knee is bouncing.
“Bree,” Nathan says in a soothing tone, reaching down to still my foot. “We do not have to do this. Say the word and I’ll tell Nicole to throw the papers in the trash.”
I look from the stack of contracts to Nathan. He’s so relaxed. Not a shaking foot or bouncing knee on him. Instead, his dark eyes look as peaceful as the dead of night, when you can’t sleep and look out the window and everything is calm and still.
“So you’re leaving the choice completely up to me?” I ask, uncomfortable with the weight of that realization.
“Of course. I’m used to this life already. It’s you who would be affected the most by the sudden change.”
“But…you’re okay with…the dating part?”
Something flashes in his features. He looks away quickly and then back to me. “Well, I…” His thumb taps on the back of my chair, the movement brushes against my shoulder blade, and the hairs on my arm stand. They’re all attentive listeners to the story his thumb is trying to tell. “I think we could work it out. But to be honest, the only reason I’d hesitate to do it is because I know exactly what you’re planning to do with that money.”