“Oh.” I study the small carving.
“Another story is that the carvings of Mithunas are symbols of “good luck.” Also, they could be a form of sex education by rekindling passions in people who were probably influenced by Buddhism.” She shrugs. “Anyway, I thought it might bring good sexual luck to you.”
I choke on a laugh. “Good sexual luck?”
“Yes.” She nods firmly. “You need some of that. Since you have no man in your life.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
Her dark eyes widen. “What? What happened while I was gone?”
I make a face. “Well, nothing really. Except I sort of have a boyfriend now.”
Her hands fly up. “That is not nothing! Who is this? How did it happen?”
I pat my hands in a calm down gesture. “I’ll explain.”
“Yes! Spill the Darjeeling.”
I laugh. “You’re going to think I’m crazy. Wait. You already do.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Roman is not giving up on us getting back together. He keeps showing up at the apartment. He’s got Vince on his side, and Vince is really pushing for us to get back together, too.”
“Ugh.”
“So I got this idea that I’d bring a date to a party Vince was having last week. Act like we’re in love. That would end that.”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea, actually. So, who did you ask?”
I grimace. “A stranger.”
She frowns.
“I see this guy in Penn Station when I’m playing. He looks nice and well dressed. I thought he was in finance or something. He stops and watches me. He likes my music.”
“Of course he does. Because you’re amazing.”
“Well, one day he was there, and I asked him for coffee, and he seemed nice and normal, so I told him I needed a date for the party. And why. And he agreed.”
“Okay. So…he went to the party with you?”
“Yes.”
“And did that convince Roman to leave you alone?”
“No.” I sigh. “I took Cat to a hockey game the other night, and he showed up in Vince’s box.”
“You went to a hockey game?” She stares at the camera open-mouthed.
“Yes.” I bite my lip. “It turns out that Owen—that’s his name—plays for the Bears.”
Once again, her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Vince’s hockey team?”
“Yeah.”
“Holy crap.”
“Right? They know each other. It was all sort of…chaotic. Neither of us knew what to do. So we kept up the pretense.”
“Yikes.”
I nod. “Owen doesn’t think Vince would trade him away…but he could.”
She narrows her eyes. “I wouldn’t put anything past Vince when it comes to money.”
“I know.” I sigh. “So we agreed we’d keep going with this sham relationship.”
She stares at me. “That’s your boyfriend? It’s fake?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.” Her bottom lip pouts. “I thought you’d for real found someone.”
“You know I don’t have time for that with taking care of Cat. And my music.”
“Cat is doing great. And she’s twelve now, hon. She can stay alone. She’ll be driving soon.”
Laughter bubble up my throat. “Not for a while. And you’re right, but I still want to spend time with her. She still needs attention and love.”
“Of course.” Her eyes soften. “You’ve been a great sister to her.”
“Thanks.”
“I think you could take more time for yourself now, though. You could be dating. Having fun!”
“I do have fun!” Well, not that much, actually.
“Tell me about Owen.”
“Owen Cooke. He plays left wing for the Bears.”
She grins. “Do you even know what left wing is?”
“I do not.” I shake my head. “Cat and I went to the game on Saturday to watch him. Because that would be a girlfriend thing to do. I had no clue what was going on. And Vince must have told Roman and invited him.”
“Wow.” She tilts her head. “You hate hockey.”
“I know. Ugh. I mean, it turned out to be kind of fun. Owen got two goals!”
Janiya rolls her lips inward on a smile. “Good for him.”
“And the Bears won.”
“Uh huh.” She nods. “Are you seeing him again?”
“Yes. He’s coming over on Friday to watch a game with Cat and me. She was at the game too, and she really likes hockey, so he offered to explain it to us.”
“This must be torture for you, watching sportsball.”
I open my mouth and catch her observant gaze. “What?”
“What’s Owen like?”
“A jock.” I roll my eyes. “All hockey, all the time. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t eat junk food. Probably obsessed with working out and admiring his muscles in the mirror. I’m sure he can’t have a conversation about anything but hockey.”
“Is he good looking? Wait. Let me check.” Her attention refocuses as she taps on her keyboard. “Whoa.” She clicks a couple of times to share the screen. “Is this him?”
“Yes.” It’s a team headshot. He looks angry.
“Hot. Intense.”
“I guess he’s attractive. He’s very big.”
“Ohhhh. Big feet?”
I choke. “Janiya!”
“You know what they say.”
“It’s a myth.” I cough. “And yeah, his feet are big. He’s six-five!”
She nods. “That’s tall. I like big men.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter if his penis size matches his shoe size, because I’m never going to know.”
She sighs and ends the screen share. “Disappointing.”
“I’m just trying to get Roman and Vince off my back.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Lucky Owen doesn’t have a wife or a girlfriend.”
“I wouldn’t have asked him to do this if he did.”
“Right.” She pauses. “He knows about your busking, obviously.”
“Yes. He was a little surprised when he saw me again at the party without my wig and glasses.”
“Do you trust him to keep your secret?”
I consider that. “I…do.” I wrinkle my nose. “For some reason, I trust him. He clearly hasn’t told his teammates, or they would have stopped and gawked at me when they walked by earlier.”
“You saw him today?”
“Just in passing. They were on their way to the game.”
She nods.
“He hasn’t told Vince. So far. He could have.”
“He still could.” Her face sobers.
“I guess. Trusting someone with your secrets is risky. Maybe I should be worried, but instead I feel like it makes us…” I stop, searching for the word.
“Conspirators?”
“Eh.”
“Accomplices?”
“More like…friends.”