Page 24 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“No.”

“Why did you break up?” I ask.

“It just didn’t work out.” He shrugs and I wait for him to continue.

“Okay…” I prompt when he doesn’t.

“Isn’t that why most people break up?”

“But after nine and a half years?” I raise an eyebrow. “There’s a little more toit just didn’t work outafter that long.”

“What are you, a therapist?”

I give him an unimpressed look. “I’m a journalist.”

“This isn’t an interview.”

“Marsh, if I’m going to pretend to be dating you, I think I’m going to need to know why you two didn’t work out—”

“It just didn’t work out,” he says firmly. Our waiter appearswith our food and places it in front of us. I stare at the fresh rolls and thick pieces of fish and look back up at Marsh. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out.

I realize that even thoughI’man open book, maybe it’s going to take Marsh a little bit of time. We’ve only just met. There’s an uneasy look on his face, like he feels bad for not giving me more, but he’s just simply not ready and that’s okay.

“Got it,” I say. “So, are you trying to make her jealous?”

“God, no.”

“Then why do you need a date again?” I ask, now even more confused.

He looks at me like we’re very close to our game of twenty questions being over.

“I just want to bring a date, okay? Do you have to dive into my whole psyche to understand why? My ex is getting married. Is it a crime to want her to know I’m doing okay?”

“No.” I ease up. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“No,I’msorry.” Marsh rubs the back of his neck. “I guess I’m a little defensive over all of this. It’s been a year. It shouldn’t still be a sore subject.”

I straighten in my seat, now feeling invested in this scenario I’ve gotten myself into.

“You’ve only been broken up for a year and her whole ass is engaged?!” I say in disbelief and then soften my tone. “You have every right to feel defensive. Also, I’m sorry for grilling you. But I need to know all this for my character.”

“Your character?” Marsh asks like he’s already annoyed before hearing my answer.

“Yeah…your new girlfriend who can’t get enough of you. Trust me, it’ll drive her crazy.” I flip my hair and Marsh shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “What?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he says.

“What? Why?”

“People are going to see right through it.”

I scrunch my face. “How?”

“I’m not the type of person that dates women like you,” he replies. “It doesn’t feel believable.”

Um, ouch?I’m sure Marsh graduated at the top of his class and his ex is probably someone who reads only highbrow literature and goes to the museum on weekends. But the subtle dig when I’m trying to help him doesn’t feel great.

“What arewomen like me?” I say slowly.