The Husband Game

“You said your cute student hookup saved you from some creeper, right? That’s a pretty traditional start to a relationship.”

“Relationship?” I blurt, loud enough to make all the tech bros, even the one with his noise-cancelling headphones on, look our way. I force a weak smile, trying my best to stay calm, as I spin back to Fiona again, my voice a hushed whisper now. “Are you kidding? All we did was hook up. It was basically a one-night stand!”

“Did he kick you out in the morning?” Fiona frowns. Oh sure, now she decides to act sympathetic.

“No, he wanted me to stay so he could make me breakfast in bed. But that’s not the—”

“So he does sound traditional,” she retorts.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know! My point is, I barely know him. All we did was have one night of…” I trail off. Okay, admittedly the sex was amazing. “One night of fun,” I force myself to say. “And then I left in the morning. After I learned he was way younger than I thought.”

Fiona arches an eyebrow. “What grade did you say he’s in again?”

“He’s a senior, but—”

“So he’s old enough to drink.” She waves a hand, dismissive. “That’s practically the same age as you anyway. Look, I’m not asking you to actually marry the guy. Well, not legally. Just, like, get engaged, plan the wedding, make it look real. Then break up shortly after.”

I stare at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We can make it a whole series. A relationship in live-time. It will get so many views, Lila, I just know it.” Fiona’s eyes sparkle with excitement now. “I’d do it myself, but I haven’t met any potential prospects in like, well over a year, so…” She grimaces.

“So maybe you should go set up an easel outside the engineering department and start painting,” I grumble.

“Even if I did, I don’t think I’d attract the cute undergrads the way you do.” Fiona nudges my knee under the table. “It’s why I sent you to write this thing in the first place, remember? You’re my hottest staffer.”

“I’m your only staffer,” I point out.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Come on, Lila. Do you want to write for me forever? Or do you want to get your name out there and recognized, as a brand unto yourself? These are the kind of big performance serial pieces that put names on maps. After this, you’d probably be able to score freelance gigs writing for real, huge name publications. Mags with actual print runs.” She nudges my knee again under the table, and after a reluctant moment, I meet her eager gaze. “C’mon. I know you want to branch out. Level up your career. This is the kind of risky next step you need to take if you want to make that happen.”

I chew on my lower lip, anxious. “I don’t know…” But she’s right. I do want to branch out. Level up. All of that. I want to write for real, big name publications eventually. I want to be recognized; known for the writing I do.

I don’t want the writing to always be about relationships, though. And I definitely don’t always want to be doing humiliating stuff like lugging easels across college campuses and setting up honey traps for unsuspecting undergrads.

But if Fiona’s right—and, to her credit, Fiona has always had a great nose for articles that will break out and go viral, for spins on stories that haven’t been done or seen before—then this could be my chance to get to that point. To get my name out there and recognized, so that in the future, I’ll be able to choose the kinds of articles I pursue. I’ll be the one who decides what stories I chase and write about. Not the market. Not even Fi, though I love the girl.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Fiona watching me with a little encouraging smile, like she knows I need the extra pep talk. “Do this, Lila, and I promise, afterward you’ll be able to pick up and write about any story you want.”

Worry sinks into my stomach. Because, it’s more than just the story. It’s marriage. I have never believed in it. After everything my mother went through during hers, it’s always seemed like the worst possible idea a woman could ever get sucked into. I don’t mind hooking up; I wouldn’t even mind having a long-term-ish relationship if the right person came along to keep me interested. But I’ve never believed it’s realistic to yoke myself to someone for the rest of my life.

In fact, I think it’s downright dangerous.

My career comes first. My work is everything. It takes precedence, and I won’t give it up for anybody.

Now, Fiona wants me to get married for my career, though. In order to write about, and prove to the world, exactly what I already believe: that the modern institution of marriage doesn’t work and will always lead to failure.