Fake Marriage Box Set

I shook my head. “No. I think Ron made me a profile, but I don’t even know the password.”

“Do you know what I do for a living?” she asked. I tried remembering what Ron had mentioned over the years.

“You’re an actress, right? Ron said you’ve been in a few commercials, and had two big parts in some sitcom show.”

“Two big parts,” she repeated and finished her cocktail. “Dead girl number one, and abducted girl number two. I guess you could consider those big parts.”

She seemed to grow uncomfortable as the conversation continued.

“Yeah, I’m an actress and model, but that doesn’t pay enough, so I’m also a promoter. I sell myself on social media. I get followers, and take lots of pictures with products, and get those followers to buy those products. It doesn’t pay that well, but that combined with shoots and small roles, it’s enough.” Our appetizer arrived, and she ordered another cocktail.

I glanced at the men still ogling her at the bar. “So you’d flirt with all those men, give them your social media name, promote products to them, and get paid?” It was an insane thought.

“That’s how it works,” she said and tore off a piece of bread. There was a plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar at our side, and she dunked a fluffy, sourdough piece into it.

“How is it coming along? The modeling and acting, I mean,” I asked.

“I get about one photo shoot every two weeks, and an acting gig every few months,” she said. “My friend, Nancie, triples that. She actually just got an offer to model in Hollywood. She’ll probably be leaving at the end of the month.”

“That’s incredible,” I said. “Is that what you want to do?”

“More than anything,” she said as her second drink arrived. I finished my first. “Photo shoots are fun, but it’s the acting that really gets me. I don’t know why, but there’s something special about just closing your eyes as yourself,” she lowered her eyelids. “And opening them as a different person.” When she opened her eyes and looked at me, I could have sworn there were literal stars in them.

“And I’m good at it. It’s the one thing I can say that I’m, without a doubt, good at. I love transforming myself into someone else. I go crazy about it, what their background is, how they would feel about certain things. Sometimes, if I’m playing a part in a play at a local theater, I’ll pretend that I’m my character for all the months leading up to opening night.” She smiled and gazed behind me, toward the ceiling. “There aren’t many talent agencies

in Alaska, and of course no one ever really shoots here. Hollywood is where my dreams are.”

“Then you should go,” I said. Maddie blinked as if realizing I was still there, and a blush spread over her cheeks.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just gushed like that. I’m sorry, Gavin,” she said. “I didn’t even know what I was saying.”

“You were just talking about your dreams,” I said. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Our dinner arrived, with a second drink for me, and we spent our first moments of eating in silence. I had a flaky salmon that melted in my mouth, and Maddie enjoyed a roasted duck with a sweet potato puree. She took her time eating and followed each bite with a sip of water.

“What about you?” she asked. “What are your dreams?”

I finished my whiskey and leaned back against the seat. “I don’t have any crazy ambitions like you, that’s for sure.” I considered it a moment and realized that I hadn’t planned anything for my life. Especially not past six months.

“There’s nothing you want to do?” she asked. “Travel the world, start a company, write a book?”

“I wouldn’t mind writing a book,” I said. “I used to write horror stories from middle school all the way to college. They were popular, if you can believe it.”

“I think I remember one!” she leaned forward. “About a little boy lost in a hospital, and each room was a different nightmare, right? With clowns, and I think a fucked-up Santa Claus, and another little boy that followed him with a bloody knife.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You read that? You must have been like 10.”

“Ron wasn’t the most positive role model,” she said. We finished our entrees at the same time. “I remember loving it though, and it scared the shit out of me. But it was amazing. I think you could write an amazing book.”

“That’s a nice thought,” I said. The whiskey was beginning to make my head fuzzy, but I didn’t refuse a third glass as the waiter delivered it. “I don’t really have to worry about money, not since I sold my father’s company. So, I could just lock myself in my room all day and write without a single worry.”

“I completely forgot about that,” she said. “That must have been hard.”

“The circumstance wasn’t easy, that’s for sure,” I said. Our waiter brought over a plate of truffles, each a different type of chocolate. I let Maddie bite into each of them first as I nursed my drink.

“That reminds me,” she said and took a deep breath. “The entire reason I even asked you here.”

I didn’t understand what she meant at first until it dawned on me. She had a proposal for my predicament. Up until then, it felt like a natural first date.