“How did you get McClaw to stay still on your lap like that?” Piper asks as soon as she locks the apartment door, leaving the orange cat on his own.

“You call your cat McClaw?” I laugh while we walk down the two sets of emergency stairs leading to the parking lot, bypassing the old, slow, creaky elevator. That's the most ridiculous cat name I’ve ever heard.

“Yeah. He's not usually so friendly,” Piper says as she follows behind me.

“What can I say? I'm good with my hands.” I shoot her a smile as she walks through the door I’m opening for her.

She says nothing, but I can see her cheeks grow red. How transparent. I love it.

“Hop in, princess.” I open the car door for Piper and wait until she's seated before I close it and walk around the car to get inside myself.

She continues to tell me more about her cat, when what I really want to know more about is her. But I let her talk; it seems to put her at ease and I need her to put her guard down so she’ll be receptive to my weird-as-fuck proposition.

She looks radiant. Before this, I’ve only ever seen her either when she's tired and angry, or when she's just lounging around at home—and I already thought she was beautiful.

But after just a few minutes in the bathroom, doing whatever it is girls do, she emerges looking like she's ready to turn every head we pass by.

Her skinny jeans outline her curves perfectly, driving my imagination wild with thoughts about what she looks like underneath the denim. Her top is the loose and flowy kind that obscures her shape. I usually hate this kind of top on girls, but on Piper, it makes her look tiny and adorable and perfect.

I turn on the ignition and start driving toward an all-day-breakfast place I’ve been to once with Seth and Alice. The food is delicious, of course. Alice is a professional chef, after all, and Seth has always been weirdly obsessed with food.

I glance at Piper, a pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose as her ponytail blows in the wind. She looks so put together it makes me want to mess it all up. Smear her lipstick with a kiss, tangle my fingers in her hair, throw her pretty clothes on the floor… All those things will happen, in time. I know I can get her right where I want her.

I park the car and get out, still listening to stories about the cat. How can a cat possibly have so many things happen in his short life?

By the time we get seated, I feel like I know the entire life history of McClaw, who apparently wandered into Piper’s mom’s kitchen and adopted the family.

I order for the both of us. As the waiter walks away, I say, “I’ve been here before. Trust me, you want to try their Belgian waffle.”

Piper nods, clearly not used to being treated like a lady, although she undoubtedly deserves the royal treatment.

“So, Piper, what are your plans?” I ask.

“Right. I’m so sorry about having missed the due date for the rent. If you drop me off at the bank later, I’ll send it to you right away”, she says quickly before I can stop the stream of words flowing out from between her tempting lips.

“That's not what I mean. Are you staying?” I ask.

She shakes her head weakly. “No, I can't afford the rent. I'm so sorry. I hope you’ find another tenant soon.”

“Have you found another place?”

“I’ll be staying at my friend’s.”

“A new roommate?” I hope I haven't just driven her to move in with some guy. My fake fiancée can’t be living with another guy.

“An old one, actually.” Piper smiles. “Carly and I lived together for two years until she moved out to live with her boyfriend.”

“You’re not moving in with your own boyfriend?” I ask, not missing the natural opportunity to ask about her relationship status.

“I don't have one,” she says.

I'm not a jealous guy. I have a bunch of friends with benefits, so it's safe to assume they sleep with other people, too. And I'm cool with that.

But knowing that Piper belongs to no one makes me want her for my own. It's a new, foreign feeling.

“So you’ll be living with a couple?” I ask again. That seems like a strange arrangement, but maybe that's what college kids do these days.

“Yeah,” she replies simply, looking like she's embarrassed about it.

“Hey, there's no shame in being broke,” I say. “I've been there. You just do what you’ve got to do.”

“You’ve been broke?” Piper asks, disbelief in her voice.

“Yeah. That was a different time.” I don't mind talking about the time I only had two bucks left in my wallet, not too long after getting out of prison. But we're here to talk about something else. So I should get on with the program. I ask, “Listen, what if you don't have to move out?”

“You’re...extending the grace period?” Piper frowns, clearly confused by my question.

“No.” I can't help but smile as I watch her frown get deeper and deeper.

“Then… You’re just asking for fun?” There's a hint of irritation in her voice. “None of this is funny to me.”

“It's not funny to me either,” I say, with a grin on my face that probably says the opposite. “I’m asking because I’m making you an offer.”

Piper puts her fork down, letting it clang against the plate. She finishes chewing the waffle in her mouth, looking like she's deep in thought, then says, “What do you mean?” She seems cautious, maybe even a little suspicious.

“What if I tell you, you can continue staying there?”

“I’d love that. Oh my god, that would be the best thing ever,” she says excitedly. She pauses and narrows her eyes at me. “Wait, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

“No, I’m completely serious.”

She goes quiet, her eyebrows pulled close together until small lines appear in the stretch of skin between them.

“What's the catch?” Piper asks. Smart girl.

“I’ll need you to come with me to two events,” I say, deliberately leaving things vague to maintain her interest.

“What kind of events?” Her frown grows deeper. She squints at me. “It's not, like, an orgy or anything like that, is it?”

I burst into laughter. She may look like an innocent angel, but she has a dirty mind. I like that her first guess is a sex party.

“No, they're just regular parties,” I say when my laughter dies down.

“Can you be more specific?”

“Sure, it's a friend’s wedding and my parents’ anniversary. I guarantee you, no orgy, or any kind of public sex, will take place at either one of those events.”

She looks at me like I’ve just sprouted horns. Fair enough, it is an unusual offer.

“Okay…” She trails off and bites her lower lip, looking like she's trying to decide how to respond. “So I’ll go as your date, is that it?”

“Exactly.”

“Why me, though? Don't you have any friends who’d go with you?”

Well, yeah, but they're all crazy girls who'd get the wrong idea, I think to myself. I don't feel like telling her this, though. For some reason, it feels wrong to be telling her stuff about the other girls that I see.

“I’m offering you free rent here. You may want to ease up on the questions,” I say. If I were in her position, I’d take the offer before it's too late.

“Yeah, but I’m a girl living on my own in the city. I need to be careful. You haven't even told me how many months of rent would be waived,” she says, kicking off the negotiations.

“I’ll let you stay for free until summer’s over,” I say. My father wants to see the income statements related to the rental, but since I fired Teresa and will be preparing them myself, I can write whatever I want on them.

Piper’s eyes widen. A smile blooms on her beautiful face. Like petals, her lips part and she asks, “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

She bites her lower lip again, which only makes me want to take a nibble myself. She says, “Could you at least tell me why you need a date?”

For a moment, I wonder if I should tell her it's so I can regain my position within the bank. But as beautiful as she is, I barely know this girl. Underneath the pretty packaging, she could be a money-grabbing monster for all I know. If she finds out there's a lot of power and money involved, she might start demanding more.

I look around us at the other diners in the busy restaurant, looking for inspiration.

A businessman behind Piper is reading a newspaper while drinking coffee. An older couple is sharing a big plate of French toast. A woman at the table next to ours is on the phone, and she's wearing a black shirt with a pink charity pin on her chest.

That's it.

“It's my parents,” I say. “My mom is sick and she really wants to see me with a good partner. You know, in case she...can't be around for me anymore.” I look down at my empty plate, hoping I look sad enough to convince her.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she says. “What kind of illness is it?”

“Breast cancer,” I say, recalling the pink-ribbon pin I’ve just seen.

She takes a sharp breath, clearly buying my sob story.

“So would you do it?” I ask, eager to close the deal.

“Yeah.” Quickly, she adds, “But this is strictly business, okay?”

“Perfect. This must be my lucky day, because that’s exactly what I want.” I give her a smile, but not an overly cheerful one to suit the somber mood. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, about the same time as today. Wear something nice. We’re going to a wedding.”

I heave a sigh of relief. I’ve overcome the first hurdle, which is finding the right girl.

Now, I can start to have a little fun now, maybe even try to get into the pants of my fake girlfriend for real.