“Okay.” I tried for a smile as I stood. But my cheeks ached from all the fake smiling I’d been doing for the last hour. The red-headed woman, who I was pretty sure was at least twenty years older than I was, looked confused. “Okay?” She stood up from the table across from me, a paintbrush still in her raised hand. “Right,” I said. “Goodbye then.” “Um,” she said, glancing around like maybe she thought she was being pranked. “Goodbye?” Her name was Kami, and a lot of the things Kami said sounded like questions, but technically should have been statements. It was one of the things that made me certain that this setup—like every single one of those my mother had orchestrated so far—was not going to result in any kind of happily ever after. “Yep,” I confirmed, since she insisted on continuing to look confused. “Okay,” she said. I took that as agreement and picked up my latest hastily painted ceramic frog and delivered it to the tall dark-haired girl behind the counter, who offered m

Yes, I was talking to hardware now. I’d been living alone so long, I had to make friends where I could. At least I hadn’t stooped to the level of the guy who had come in to paint last week with a mannequin sitting across from him. That had given me the creeps, but the guy was perfectly nice. Maybe I should rethink my stance on mannequin companionship.Things were looking up when my old cherry red Honda Prelude started on the first try. She only let out one backfire as I rumbled down the long driveway, giving me a sense that maybe today was my day. I’d gotten in a great run. I’d remembered to pick up some protein bars at the store the other day and felt decently fed going into work. Things were going to change today. I could feel it in the way people waved hello as I entered the downtown area. It was in the late-summer sun that warmed me through the window of my tiny car. And it was definitely a good sign when a parking space opened up right in front of Paint It, Pal as I swung down Ma

“You got it. Sure thing. Enjoy that paint.” She practically shouted these words, and her voice had gone oddly stiff. She might be good at selling ceramic frogs and paint, but she was a terrible actress. “Thanks,” I said, and before I turned back to Jessica, I saw the girl pull a phone out of her back pocket and head to the back. Salvation was near. “I missed you,” Jessica warbled, and as I put down the paint, she captured both my hands in hers, practically pulling me across the table. My life flashed before my eyes. “Lincoln, honey,” she went on. “I have an instinct for things, and I really feel like you and me? Like this is something real. Something special.” My phone dinged in my pocket and I extricated one hand from Jessica’s, giving her an apologetic smile as I pulled it out and saw a message from a number I didn’t know. Unknown number: HUGE emergency. You need to abandon your frog and get going. Immediately. (before she proposes. Or eats you.) I had to stifle a chuckle at th

I had a girlfriend. Okay, a fake girlfriend. It was still a pretty novel concept for a guy who’d been on his own for a very long time.By choice, of course.I went to bed that night struggling with the concept. In one corner of my mind was Hannah’s encouraging smile, the warm one she’d given me as I’d finally escaped Paint It, Pal this afternoon. That smile lit up something dark and deep inside me, but I really didn’t want to think too much about that. It made me uncomfortable, and stirred up some dusty memories. In the other corner of my sleepy mind was my mother, her shining eager eyes as she pursued her relentless quest for matching up each of her boys. I could only imagine how thrilled she would be when I introduced her to Hannah, though my memory of Hannah’s poor acting skills had me a little worried. And I didn’t want to hurt Mom by having her find out I’d tried to pull one over on her. So it would take some finesse—not something I excelled at. I woke up to the persistent vib

“Talking?” I walked over to have a seat next to him. I didn’t mean to frustrate him, but I did think getting to know each other would help sell this fake relationship. I didn’t want to meet his mom without some cursory knowledge of my supposed boyfriend.Lincoln nodded, no longer meeting my gaze. “Yes. Talking. Communicating. Knowing what to say when.”I shrugged, feeling for him. “Just say whatever you want. We’re not actually dating, Lincoln.” I put my hand on his knee and felt him flinch at my touch. “You can’t hurt my feelings or make me break up with you. That’s the beauty of our arrangement. Just be yourself, okay?”Lincoln tilted his head and shrugged. “Okay. If Paint It, Pal isn’t your dream job, what is?”I grinned just thinking about it. “Great question. I want to own my own business. Be independent. Make my own choices.” I leaned closer like my innermost dreams were a secret that needed to be whispered. “I actually think the paint thing would be cool for adults. Half wine b