Fine, I think. Like a woman who loves her cheese curds. Like a woman whose boobs pop out of her bridesmaid dress. Like a woman who deserves your disdain because she isn’t perfect.
“I can hear you thinking about that one word and reading more into it than I intended. You look great.” Once inside, he presses the button for the lobby and adds, “You always do.”
These three final words bound around my cranium before they absorb. I always look great? To who? Ethan?
The floors count down and it feels like the elevator is holding its breath right along with me. I meet the eyes of my reflection in the mirrored doors and glance over at Ethan.
You always do.
Color blooms high on his cheekbones, and he looks like he’d be happy if the cables snapped and death swallowed us whole.
I clear my throat. “In a 1990 study, researchers showed that it’s easier to catch someone in a lie the first time they tell it. We should figure out what we’re going to say.”
“You needed Google to tell you that?”
“I do better when I’m prepared. You know, practice makes perfect.”
“Right.” He pauses, thinking. “We met through friends—technically not a lie, so it will be harder for you to screw it up—and got married last week. I am the luckiest man alive, et cetera, et cetera.”
I nod in agreement. “Met through friends, dated for a while and oh my God, I was so surprised when you begged me to marry you.”
Ethan’s lip curls. “I got down on one knee while we were camping at Moose Lake. Proposed with a Ring Pop.”
“Details are good! We smelled like campfire the entire next day,” I say, “but didn’t care because we were so happy and having lots of celebratory tent sex.”
The elevator falls deathly silent. I look over in a strange combination of horror and joy that I’ve managed to render him speechless with the prospect of sex with me. Finally, he mumbles, “Right. We can probably leave out that detail for your boss.”
“And remember,” I say, loving his discomfort, “I didn’t mention you, or being engaged, even at the more casual lunch at the interview, so we need to look a little windswept by it all.”
The elevator dings, and the doors open into the lobby. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble pulling that off.”
“And be charming,” I say. “But not like, likable charming. Passably charming. They shouldn’t leave wanting to spend any actual time with you. Because you’re probably going to die or turn out to be terrible in the end.” I catch his small, irritated scowl as he heads into the lobby and can’t help but throw in a little dig. “Basically, just be yourself.”
“Man, I am going to sleep so well tonight.” He stretches, like he’s prepping to starfish on the enormous bed. “FYI, watch the left side of the sofa. I was reading there earlier today and noticed there’s a spring that digs a little.”
Soft music echoes through the lobby as we make our way to the exit. The restaurant is just off the beach; it’s convenient because when all this blows up in my face, it will only be a short walk to drown myself in the ocean.
Ethan opens the door to the expansive courtyard and motions for me to lead the way down a lighted path. “What is this company again?” he asks.
“Hamilton Biosciences. They’re one of the most well-known contract biologics company in the country, and on the discovery side, they have a new flu vaccine. From all of the papers I’ve read, it sounds groundbreaking. I really wanted this job, so maybe mention how happy we are that I was hired, and that it’s all I’ve talked about since.”
“We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon, and you want me to say you’ve talked nonstop about their flu vaccine?”
“Yes. I do.”
“What’s your job again? Janitor?”
Ah. There it is. “I’m a medical-science liaison, Eragon. Basically I talk to physicians about our products from a more technical standpoint than does the sales force.” I glance over at him as we walk. He looks like he’s trying to cram for a test. “He and his wife are here for their thirtieth anniversary. If we’re lucky, we can just ask them a bunch of stuff about themselves and not have to talk about us at all.”
“For someone who claims to be unlucky, you’re putting an awful lot of faith into your lucky streak.” He does a small double take when he registers