Huh? I resisted the urge to turn around and see who he was directing this question to.

“Would you pretend to date someone for something like that?”

Would I? I mean, I was well-versed in the subtle art of deception. It was the only way to navigate being a sexually active bisexual while living with your entire Dominican family. But getting creative about where you’re spending the night is very different to pretending you’re in a relationship with someone in front of a camera in order to push ahead your career. And as much I was always willing to go the extra mile for some good D, P or any other body parts I was partaking in at any given time, I had never lied about my feelings for someone out of self-interest. Then again, being on a show where Bookish Boudoir could be exposed to millions of people had never been part of the equation...yeah, I’d do it.

“In a New York minute, Mr. Ganas.” I made myself sound a lot less conflicted than I felt about it.

“I didn’t know you to be such a ruthless businesswoman.”

The comment rubbed me the wrong way. Because that was such a “dude” thing to say.

“Just because I’m not scowling at everyone all day and drinking coffee thicker than petroleum—” He scoffed at that but I ignored it. “Doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t do whatever it takes to be successful.” I pinned him with my most intense gaze and he stared right back. All this eye contact was freaking me the fuck out.

“So testy today, Alba Cassandra.”

I swallowed down a roar of irritation while his satanic eyes danced with mirth at my fury. “Alba Serena,” I reminded him for the twenty millionth time.

I ramble when I’m nervous. My ramblings are almost always overshares about my family. During my interview for this job, for some ungodly reason I word vomited for five minutes about how I was named Alba after my mom’s mom and how all of my cousins where also named Alba and whenever the ten us were together it could get chaotic, then I proceeded to recite every single one of our names. Theo Anibal Ganas’s favorite game was calling me by the wrong middle name. Mostly he used names from Greek mythology, and he did it constantly, because psychologically torturing me was the only source of joy in his life.

At least my annoyance was suffusing my nerves about quitting. I should’ve known I’d be ready to walk out on the spot by the time I told him.