A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

0.9 we're clearly lacking chemistry

My stomach drops and I'm suddenly too scared to turn around. Jack also looks briefly horrified, though it might be due to the fact that someone suggested him proposing to me. "What?" Jack snaps, while his hands busily fumble for the sunhat. "I am not proposing to anyone."

He places the sunhat on my head and it obscures my vision, practically covering half my face. "Oh?" says the voice, and I realize it's Irene. Fate seems to like torturing me, placing me in situations where I must endure nerve-wracking experiences. "Then... are you on a date, by any chance?"

"No," Jack says quickly. "We're strangers. We merely happened to be in the same place at the same time."

Irene looks skeptical. "That's right," I rush in, adopting my voice into a higher pitch. "I have no clue who this person is."

She squints at me before her eyes widen with realization. "The woman from the restroom?" she sputters and I take a step back. I've used my go-to fake voice without thinking.

"No," I snap aggressively. "What bathroom?"

"I swear, you're the person from the bathroom," Irene says. "You sound exactly the same."

"There was no person in the bathroom," Jack denies, stepping protectively in front of me. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Irene still looks doubtful. She tries to peer under my hat, but Jack blocks her view. "Alright," she says slowly, realizing her unwanted presence. "I'll get going, then. Sorry for interrupting your date."

"It's not a date," Jack and I cut in, before frowning at each other.

"Oh, okay," Irene says, backing up. "Anyways, goodbye."

She steals one last terrified look at us, before darting away. Perhaps the prospect of Jack dating someone fills her with terror. Jack frowns at Irene's departing figure. "Why is she so curious about my dating life?" he asks crossly.

"You've never shown interest in anyone," I reply. "So when you're suddenly in bathrooms and on dates with people, of course she would be interested."

"When I first joined the company, I thought it would be just work." Jack grimaces. "None of that high school drama BS. I'm being proved wrong with every passing day."

Jack joins me on the bench and I nudge him. "Makes your life interesting, no?"

"The worst kind of interesting." Jack lifts one of the dessert boxes. It seems we've been sidetracked from our date and Jack is back to his Romantic Male Lead self. "Tiramisu?"

"Please," I say, graciously accepting the dessert.

In a romance novel, the female lead eats the desert and it's so good, her delight is obvious. Because of the apparent delight, the male lead falls for her childishly adorable antics. Maybe I'll be like the protagonist, making Jack fall in love because of how I eat.

I take a delicate bite of the tiramisu. Jack watches me cautiously and I swallow. A rush of overly sweetness makes me want to spit out the entire dessert. "Is it good?" Jack asks and I battle a wave of nausea.

I frantically motion for water, but Jack merely looks confused. "What?" he says, bewildered. "Are you..."

His eyes widen in horror and he abruptly stands up from the bench. "You're not going to vomit, are you?"

I glare at him. Jack is being so helpful right now. "Don't get any closer," he warns, glancing nervously at me.

"Excuse me," I bark. "You're supposed to help me."

"I'll help you by staying ten feet away," Jack returns. "If you vomit on me, I'll bring help to your life."

I scoff. "If this was a real date, I would never see you again. Your family is going to be so confused as to why we're still dating after our first date."