“Yeah. Yes. Um. A favor. I was wondering if you could pretend that text was for you.” Mina’s words are slurred and fever pitched. They hit me hard enough that I pull the phone away from my ear.
“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” I ask, slowly.
“That text. The one in the group chat. I didn’t mean to send it and it’s going to create a lot of trouble and if you could just—”
“Ahh, yes. The ‘I didn’t mean to send the text’ chestnut.” I lean forward, elbows resting on my desk, intrigued. So, Mina has a crush on Benjamin. Something about the thought of them together bugs me, though I couldn’t say why. Probably the lack of professionalism.
Mina half-sighs, half-groans. “No, really. This was truly an accident. I’m having drinks with my friend and I was talking about how awful our meeting went and—”
“You thought our meeting was awful?”
Damn it. I knew I owed her an apology. I sip my whiskey, hoping it’ll burn away whatever is making my stomach twist and turn and sink into my feet.
“Yes! Oh my God it was so awful!” Mina blows a puff of air into the phone. “You’re supposed to be my dream client, and you were so rude. But only to me. For some reason you were super nice to Benjamin and—”
“And that made you want to admit your crush on him in a group chat and invite him for drinks so you can bite his ass.” I sit back and rest my ankle on my knee, ice clinking in my glass as Mina Blake, Hot Mess Express, huffs a sigh.
“You have no idea how embarrassed I am right now. I swear to you, this is not like me, and all I want from Benjamin is a professional relationship. So, could you please pretend that text was for you? I know it’s a big ask, but…” There’s the murmur of another voice in the distance and Mina grunts in frustration. “Shh. Damn it. Leave me alone.”
“Which is it?” I ask, a half-grin slowly lifting one cheek. “Should I leave you alone? Or pretend that text was for me?”
“I wasn’t telling you to leave me alone. I was talking to my friend who seems to think I’m making a hot mess of this entire conversation.” There’s a quick whispered argument that has me laughing.
God, it feels good to laugh.
I really do need to do that more.
And I’ve done it twice in one day thanks to Mina Blake, Hot Mess Express—even her friend agrees.
“I bet I’d like this friend of yours. We seem to think along the same lines.”
“Of course you would. She’s awesome and she loves you. But you’re distracting me from the point. Again. Please. Please. Just respond to my text like it was for you.”
“Now why would I do that, Hot Mess?”
“Because I’ve followed Benjamin’s career for a long time and I’m kind of in awe of working with him and my friend decided to play Cupid but I dropped my phone and, you know what? None of that matters. What matters is that Benjamin and I will work really well together and you’re going to love the house we come up with for you.”
“Will you be biting his ass when he designs my home? I won’t love having that image in my head every time I walk through the door.”
Mina groans and the sound goes straight to my dick. Okay. Was not expecting that. It must not be as big a fan of this celibacy idea as I am.
“I know I’m making a terrible impression,” Mina says, “but please, hear me out. I may be a few too many. I mean... I've had a little drunk. I mean…”
“Easy now. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“And this isn’t like me at all. I’m really excited about this project, and I would hate to lose an opportunity like this because Benjamin gets the wrong idea from a joke he wasn’t supposed to be part of. Believe me, I regret everything that’s happened in the last twenty minutes and I swear to you, this is not typical of me.”
“As you’ve said.”
“If you could please pretend that text is for you,” Mina continues, as if she didn’t hear me, “I promise I will do everything in my power to make this process as smooth as silk from this point forward.”
I close my eyes and pinch my forehead, my dick enjoying the phrase ‘smooth as silk’ more than I’d like. “Are you done?”
“Yes. I think so.” Mina takes a deep breath. “Well, no, there’s one more thing I should say. I’d like to thank you for your time and consideration,” she finishes proudly while laughter twinkles in the background. “I do not sound like an overly formal email, thank you very much,” she whisper-hisses before returning to her normal voice. “Will you please help me?”
My impulsive answer is yes. This woman is asking for my help, and it would take very little effort on my part to give. But these are the situations I’m trying to avoid, the kind that end with me being taken advantage of in ways I never saw coming because I’m blind to narcissism, sociopathy, and ulterior motives.
So I grit my teeth and give an answer that makes me instantly uncomfortable. “No.”
“No?” Mina sounds as appalled as I feel.
“No.” I switch the phone to my other ear. “I’ve made it my official policy to leave hot messes alone to do their thing. Effective immediately.”
“You are so incredibly disappointing. I know, I know,” she says to whoever’s listening to her end of the call. “It’s his villain era. You’re right. I should have known better.”
Fucking villain era. The words tighten my jaw, my fists, my throat. Did the whole world read Fallon Mae’s article this morning? “Good night, Miss Blake,” I say, sorry I answered the call.
“Wait!”
I pause, finger hovering over the ‘end’ button despite myself.
“Did you hang up? Oh, man! He hung up.” Mina sounds so crestfallen, I put the phone back to my ear.
“I’m waiting, as requested.”
“I’ll…I’ll drop my fee by ten percent.”
The argument on the other end of the phone increases by a decibel or two. Mina’s shrieking friend confirms my suspicion. Money is tight for Ms. Blake.
