A Hire Love. Candice Dow

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СКАЧАТЬ he didn’t know, damn if I planned to offer him an explanation. He asked, “Would you like to dance?”

      “Do I look like I want to dance?”

      “What happened?”

      Mya chimed in, “You.”

      “For real, Fatima. Tell your girl to mind her business.”

      Mya stood up and said, “Get my card. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

      When she stormed away, he said, “Your girl is trippin’.”

      “Am I missing something here? Did you just eat and drink and not offer a penny? Now, my girl that paid for everything is trippin’?”

      “I asked you to take care of it.”

      My eyes rolled in my head. “But I didn’t say I would.”

      “Well, it was obviously not what I thought it was.”

      “I just met you. What are you talking about?”

      He sucked his teeth. “I mean, you approached me.”

      I sat stunned. Words to dispute his claim never came. Anger percolated in me as I thought about spitting in his face. The waiter returned with the receipt and Mya’s card in just enough time to save me from being hauled away in handcuffs. I signed Mya’s name and stomped away.

      Mya stood by the door, pissed. She cursed his existence as we hailed a taxi. I apologized and offered to pay for his portion. “You don’t have to pay for that loser. Bad enough you wasted your time getting cute tonight.”

      “Yeah and just to think, he was this close to a second date.”

      “He’s obviously gotten away with that kind of behavior, because he looked at us like we were out of touch. Women must really be desperate.”

      I laughed. “You ain’t lying about that. It’s really rough out here, huh?”

      “Uh, yeah.”

      “Men don’t have standards anymore and women are just accepting it, huh?”

      “Basically.”

      “I quit.”

      She laughed. “You have to stay in the game or you’ve already lost.”

      “What’s the purpose if everyone is a loser?”

      “There are good men out here. It just takes time. It’s like searching for the perfect dress. You know?”

      I pouted. “A dress can’t eat and drink and not pay the bill.”

      “Silly, you know what I’m saying. Sometimes you have to try on a lot of dresses before you find what you’re looking for. And sometimes, you go right in the store and the perfect dress is right there, but you can’t take for granted that it’ll always happen that way.” I sucked my teeth and she stroked my hair. “It’ll get better.”

      Scene 4

      FATIMA

      When I got home, I removed my profile from the dating website. Mya called when I got to work to see if I’d really thrown in the dating towel.

      “Tima, you just have to be patient. It might take awhile.”

      I laughed. “It’s not like I’m looking for a husband. All I need is a damn stand-in. Is that asking for too much?”

      “A stand-in?”

      “Yeah. Someone who can be emotionally supportive. You know, the way Derrick used to be.”

      “Sweetie, Derrick was sprung. You’re not just going to leap out here and find that in one week.” She sucked her teeth. “The only way you can guarantee that is if you write a damn script and get some starving actor to play the role.”

      She laughed hysterically. The great idea siren alarmed in my brain. A big smile splattered across my face and my large eyes shifted. “Mya, you’re brilliant.”

      She sucked her teeth again. “Girl, please.”

      “No. That makes perfect sense. I need to write a script.”

      “Fatima, don’t play.” She chuckled. “I was just being facetious.”

      “No, but it’s the best idea you’ve come up with this week. I’ll write the script. You can call your agency contacts to get some actors to come out for an audition.”

      “Stop joking, girl. I’d lose my job playing games like that.”

      “Why? I’ll pay them the appropriate scale. This is a professional job.”

      “Whatever. You shouldn’t have to pay for love.”

      “That’s just it. It’s not about love. I just need a handsome man around that treats me well and can help make the everyday hustle a little easier. Someone to take out the trash. Someone to bring me flowers.”

      She added water to the seed fermenting inside of me. “Someone who knows how to treat a woman.”

      “See, it’s the perfect plan.”

      Clearly she thought I was bluffing as she egged me on. “You definitely should write a damn script, because men up here have no clue as to how a man should treat a lady.”

      “I am going to write it.”

      As if she was distracted by something, her voice lowered. “You’re crazy.”

      “No, we’re crazy, because you’re going to help me.”

      “Whatever.”

      As we sat on the phone, I jotted down some important characteristics of my leading actor. I pulled up my Story-Weaver software. Under the character description I entered RN for the main character’s name. I giggled at my homemade abbreviation for real name. Didn’t want any slip-ups at the wrong time. Could you imagine the scene? I’m at a banquet with my hired partner and I erroneously tell someone his name is Jacob. We’re pretending we’re in love and one of my business associates interrupts the scripted scene: “Hey, Jacob.” My partner doesn’t answer to the given name or his response is delayed. Nope, he always has to be on point. As I typed the script, Mya cleared her throat, “What are you doing?”

      “Okay, listen. He has to always, under all circumstances, treat me like a princess. He has to be over six feet tall. Two-hundred-twenty pounds to two-hundred-forty. And more important than the physical, he must exemplify the four key characteristics that constitute a good man.”

      “Oh, so now there is a science to a good man?”

      “No, not a science. More like a blueprint.”

      She howled. “Trust me. There is no blueprint that can separate a man from a good man.”

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