Weekend Wife (Sassy in the City 1)

He laughed.

It occurred to me I was going to have to pay Andre to keep his mouth shut if Leah agreed to this arrangement. At least to the length of time we’d known each other. He could testify that we were having day sex. I slammed the door shut, annoyed all over again at the audacity of my father’s edict.

But then I forgot about being angry because the door to the theater shot open and there was Leah.

She was dressed like a mermaid.

A sparkly, big-haired, seashell-on-her-tits mermaid. She shimmered everywhere her skin was exposed and I wanted to touch every single inch of her. First with my hands, then my tongue.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “Did you find it okay?”

I nodded, trying to focus. She sounded so polite and friendly and unlike a woman who could give me the dirtiest of dirty thoughts. “I’m familiar with the area. You look very… shimmery.”

Leah laughed. “Right? I always wanted to be a mermaid. They lure men to their death, you know.”

“I didn’t know that. Should I be afraid?”

Her head titled, as if she was considering. “Nah. I have more uses for you alive than dead.”

“I’m reassured.” I gestured for her to enter the building ahead of me. “How is your ankle?”

“It’s swollen, but it doesn’t hurt too bad.” She tried to lift her foot to show me but her fin kept her ankles too close together. “Anyway, I wrapped it with the bandages you sent and I think it will be fine in a few days. I have the bracelet for you but it’s in my purse. Don’t let me forget it.”

I didn’t care about the bracelet. “I’m glad your ankle isn’t too bad.”

She hobbled across the lobby. “Isn’t this theater so incredibly cool?”

I thought it would be cooler torn down but I just made a noncommittal sound. I’m all for preserving architecture that is historically relevant, but honestly, this building was like the nineteen thirties version of tract housing. It had just been thrown up as quickly as possible, with elements that were more cheesy than elegant. The details were akin to buying plastic medallions, slapping them on the ceiling, and saying it was art. It smelled musty and I had no doubt it was chock-full of asbestos.

But I wasn’t surprised that Leah would be the person who thought something had value simply because it was old.

“We can go in the back of the theater,” she said. “They’re rehearsing act two but I’m not in it.”

Not the privacy I had envisioned, but I would make do. I held the door for her and she limped and hopped to the last row of velvet seats and sat down with a sigh.

I sank down into a seat next to her. “Maybe you should skip dress rehearsal until the ankle is one hundred percent.” It might sound heavy-handed but I was picturing her taking a face-plant in that tight floor-length skirt.

She waved her hand, dismissing me. “The show is this weekend. I have to wear this or I won’t feel comfortable during the performance.”

“What is the show about? Besides mermaids.”

“It’s about smashing the patriarchy.”

Of course it was. “Cool. I’d say break a leg, but you might take me literally.”

Leah laughed, then covered her mouth like she was concerned she was being too loud.

The stage was filled with pirates and mermaids and something that may or may not have been a dancing walrus. Despite the general dilapidation of the theater, the set and the costumes were very elegant and artistic. It wasn’t giving a high school production vibe, but it looked very professional.

I didn’t like that we were both facing forward by nature of the theater seats. I turned to look at her, and she wasn’t even really looking at me.

“So what did you want to ask me?” she said in a low voice, watching the rehearsal.

“I want to hire you for an acting job.” I had thought about how to present my proposal and straightforward seemed the smartest way to go.

She turned to eye me, frowning a little. “What? What kind of acting job?”

“I’ll pay you generously to pretend to be my girlfriend for a weekend at my parents’ house in the Hamptons.” There was no other way to say it. I just laid it all out there.