After My Ex Sent Fake Photos to My Boss

The mariachi band appeared at eight oh-three.

I was in the breakroom getting coffee when I heard the trumpets. Loud. Bright. Unmistakably festive.

Diana looked up from her phone. "Is that—"

"Mariachi," I said.

We walked to the windows overlooking the lobby. Fifteen floors down, a group of men in matching black suits and silver-studded jackets stood in formation. One held a guitar. Another had a trumpet. A third was singing.

Diana pressed her face to the glass. "They're in the building."

"They're in the building," I repeated.

Security appeared. The music continued. People on the ground floor had stopped walking. Phones were out. Someone was filming.

"This is for the CEO," Diana said. "This has to be for the CEO."

I said nothing. I already knew.

The band played for four full minutes. A love song. Something about corazones and eternidad. Then security escorted them out. The lobby returned to normal.

Diana turned to me. "Itzel Chavez."

"Probably."

"That woman is unhinged."

I sipped my coffee. "She's persistent."

"She's going to get arrested."

I thought about Christian sitting in his office seventeen floors above us. I thought about what he was thinking.

I was right.

At nine thirty, I had to drop off revised contracts. I took the elevator to his floor. Evie was at her desk. She smiled when she saw me.

"He's in a meeting," she said.

"I'll wait."

She stood. "Let me just—"

The door opened. Christian appeared. His face was blank.

"Ms. Robinson," he said. "Come in."

I went inside. He closed the door.

"Contracts," he said.

I handed them over. His fingers brushed mine.

*This is the third incident this week. I need this to stop. I need a solution. I need Bailee.*

I pulled my hand back. "Anything else?"

"No."

I left.

I went back to my desk. I opened my laptop. I stared at the screen.

Diana leaned over the cubicle wall. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"You look weird."

"I'm fine."

She disappeared. I went back to work.

---

Friday afternoon, the skywriting started.

I was in a meeting when someone pointed out the window. We all turned.

The letters were huge. White against blue. ITZEL + CHRISTIAN.

Someone laughed. Someone else groaned.

Diana, sitting next to me, shook her head. "Someone is going to get a restraining order."

I watched the letters dissolve. Slowly. The wind pulled them apart.

"Or a fake girlfriend," I said.

Diana looked at me. "What?"

"Nothing."

The meeting continued. I didn't hear a word of it.

---

Christian appeared at my door at seven fifteen that evening.

I'd just gotten home. I was still in my work clothes. I heard the knock and looked through the peephole.

Him.

I opened the door. He stood in the hallway holding two cups of coffee. His tie was still perfect. His expression was not.

"I need to speak with you," he said.

"Now?"

"Yes."

I stepped back. "Come in."

He didn't move. "Here is fine."

I crossed my arms. "Okay."

He held out one of the cups. I took it. Our fingers touched.

*Do not panic. You have rehearsed this eleven times. Say it exactly as planned. Do NOT improvise.*

"I need you to pose as my girlfriend," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"Professionally. Temporarily. I'll compensate you."

I stared at him. His face was completely serious.

"You want me to pretend to date you," I said.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Itzel Chavez will not accept a verbal refusal. She requires visual evidence."

I almost laughed. I didn't. "Visual evidence."

"Correct."

I took a sip of coffee. It was my usual order. Vanilla latte. Too much sugar. He'd remembered.

"What kind of compensation?" I asked.

"Name your terms."

I looked at him. He looked back. His hand tightened on his cup.

*Please say yes. If she says no I will need to leave the country.*

I let him wait. Fifteen seconds. Maybe twenty.

"Professional curiosity," I said finally.

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a yes."

His shoulders dropped. Just slightly. "Good."

"When do we start?"

"Tomorrow. Dinner. I'll send you the details."

"Okay."

He nodded once. Then he turned and walked back to his apartment. I watched him unlock his door. Step inside. Close it behind him.

I stood in my doorway. I pressed my hand flat against the doorframe. The wall was thin enough.

I heard it. Felt it. His thought, loud and clear and utterly ridiculous.

*Yes. YES.*

I smiled.

I went inside. Closed the door. Sat down on the couch.

Diana was right. Someone was going to get a restraining order.

But it wasn't going to be me.