I laughed. “Let’s say I go through with this. What exactly are we talking about?”
“You pick a personality, someone you aren’t in real life, and play the part. If you’re proven successful, I’ll keep my word. Promise,” Jack said.
“Okay. Deal. Who am I supposed to be?”
Jack gazed around the room, rubbing his jaw with his thumb. His eyes rested on the empty table next to us. “The player. You get Monica into your bed by the end of the weekend, and you will have proven that you can get inside the head of a mid-twenties gigolo for the weekend.”
“Really? Do you really think I have something I need to prove to you? And to play with some poor girl’s emotions like that? Don’t you think we should be doing something a little more constructive with our time here?” I snapped.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to do it.” He smirked. “I win.” He rose from his chair and tucked it under the table. “That was easy enough.” He walked toward the door, and then turned back smarmily. “Have a nice evening, Mike.”