A Murderer's Guide to Fake Dating

0.5 three things i want on the contract

"Isla," Jack says conversationally, "do you know why we're here?" 

It's five a.m. and we're sitting in a cozy little café. Jack is drinking an iced Americano, while a matcha latte steams in my face. I fidget in my chair, before venturing a guess. "So that you can stay awake during the day?" 

"Yes, but there's another reason." Jack reclines in his chair, overly relaxed for someone who dealt with a body hours ago. "During our small trip, you brought up a good point." 

My eyebrows shoot up. Jack admitting that I can bring up a good point? Shocker. 

"You're right. Agreeing to something while being drunk doesn't equal consent. But you're not drunk now, are you?" 

Ugh. "No." 

"And"—Jack looks at me squarely in the eye, daring me to challenge him. "—you agree with the deal, right?" 

I think for a moment. The body is already taken care of, and even if it's unethical, I could just skip fulfilling my part of the deal under the claim that I was too drunk to agree with anything. "What if I don't?" I ponder. 

Jack smirks, like he's already one step ahead. "I specifically chose you to fake date because, like I said before, you're the only one I can blackmail. If you chose not to do the deal... well, I could send a little tip to the police." 

Out of all the people who stumbled upon me crying over a dead body, why him? Why couldn't it be Irene or Roxie or anyone else but him? Irene would've comforted me and Roxie would've led me to the morally correct path. But I'm stuck with this guy, who not only led me to the immoral pathway, but is also manipulating me so that I'm trapped in a deal. 

"I'm going to throw my drink at your face," I threaten quietly. 

"You really want to go to jail that badly, huh?" Jack comments, and my teeth grind together so hard, tiny pieces of enamel go flying. 

I've had it. This whole time, I've put up with him because he's my co-worker. Well, he forced me to wake up at two a.m. and after having my matcha latte, I'm still grumpy. "I hate you so much," I hiss. "You're such an asshole." 

"The feeling's mutual," Jack says dryly. "But I didn't take you to this coffee shop so that we can declare our feelings of hate. We're here to make a contract." 

"A contract?" I echo, confused. 

"Yes. We'll write up a contract that both parties agree to. We'll also make three requests that the other person must follow. But it has to be reasonable." 

"Why are you so excited about writing a contract?" I ask suspiciously. "You've been watching too many K-dramas, haven't you? Where, like, two people have a fake arranged marriage so that people will stop asking why they're single—but then after rooming together, they slowly start falling in love." 

Jack gapes at me. 

"No? Then perhaps you're a devil who needs to steal the soul of an unfortunate person, but as you spend time trying to seduce that person, you start falling in love." 

"What's with you and romance?" Jack mutters, before his mouth curves into a sly smile. "Do you think we'll fall in love, then?" 

Literal chills burst free from my skin and I stare at him in horror. My heart pounds at the thought of Jack and I. Going to ice cream shops together. Cooking dinner together. Kissing. I shudder away the thought. "No," I say scathingly. "What the hell is wrong with you?" 

"Just curious." A full bodied shrug. "And aren't you a little hypocrite, asking a question like that. Weren't you just saying that I was a devil who seduced someone for their soul and started falling in love?"