It Had to Be You Georgia Clark (bookstand for reading txt) 📖

The doorbell wrenched her back into the present.

Zach stood in her doorway looking like a rumpled rock star who just woke up. He was wearing an unironed white button-down pushed up at the sleeves and light-wash summer jeans that were probably expensive. His eyes traveled past her cropped tee, landing with glee on her hot pants. “Now that’s why I didn’t call. I knew you were a secret minx.” He prowled in, ogling every inch of her skin. “Good lord, Mitchell.”

Darlene snatched a kimono from the back of the bathroom door and smothered herself in it. “What are you doing here?”

Zach had visited Darlene’s one-and-a-half bedroom apartment exactly zero times. It was only a walk-up—no doorman or elevator like Zach’s place—but it was cute and charming, and Darlene kept it nicely decorated. Zach’s eyes roved over framed photos of her friends and family. A signed poster of Janelle Monáe. A bookshelf of Zadie Smith, Proust, and mortifyingly, a sticky-note-filled self-help book that promised badassery and wealth.

“You’re such a Virgo.” He yanked open the fridge. “Um, why is everything labeled? Don’t you live alone?”

“Zia’s crashing here.”

Zach made a show of searching the fridge. “And her food is…”

“If she gets groceries, she won’t get confused.” Darlene shut the fridge door and positioned herself in front of it. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a fake boyfriend pop in to see his fake girlfriend unannounced?” Putting both hands on her hips, he easily moved her aside.

The sensation zip-lined through her body, landing in her lower stomach. “Look, I thought it all through and my answer’s no. I’m sorry, but I can’t be your fake anything.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s risky! And unprofessional. And—” The kiss outside Babbo played back, slowed down with an orchestral score. She doused it in kerosene and lit it on fire. “Distracting.”

Zach’s confidence faded. “I got the impression you were… into it.”

“I was pretending.”

She expected him to look offended or laugh the idea off. Instead, he deflated, and sat down on her couch. “Oh.”

Oddly, she wanted to console him. She sat next to him. “C’mon, Zach. It’ll never work.”

He looked pained. Which was sort of… sweet. “Please, Mitchell? Pretty please? I get that kissing me repulses you and that I’m definitely not your type. But you’re literally the only person I can think to ask who my parents would actually approve of.”

Mark and Catherine’s twin looks of surprise flashed in her mind. “Yeah, I don’t think your parents approve of me.”

“Of course they do!” Zach exclaimed. “You’re smart and sophisticated and career-driven and a bunch of other things that I most definitely am not.”

Darlene’s throat tightened. “That’s not what I meant.”

It landed. Zach waved the idea off, reddening. “My sister is marrying a Korean woman. And honestly, they couldn’t be happier.”

Darlene took a deep breath. This could partly be explained by the fact Zach wasn’t American. “It’s different,” she said. “Korean… African American: it’s different.”

Zach’s gaze rested on her. Listening.

“You know—not all racism looks the same. Look at the pay gap. Asian women make way more on the dollar than Black women. And white guys make the most of all.”

“I know. It’s gross.” His voice was quiet. “I really like it when you tell me stuff like this.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was your private African American studies tutor. I’m going to need my own office. And benefits.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said, bashful. “I’m just saying, I like when you do. I want to be a good ally. I want to be, like, woke.”

In spite of herself, she felt oddly touched by his earnestness. “Start with not saying woke. I can say that: you can’t.”

“Okay.” Zach nodded. “Noted. Look, I know my parents are terrible, and yes, dealing with them would be part of this. I want freedom from them too. But I promise they’re not totally insane, and they do actually like the idea of us being together. It really won’t be much work, and you’ll get an album out of it. Which I’ll play on for free if you want. I’ll literally do whatever you want for the next seven hundred years.”

He was begging her to let him pay her to kiss her. And Zach was a good kisser. Too good. “Well, I guess I’d need a contract.”

“A contract?”

“Yes, this Virgo needs a contract!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll get one drawn up. So you’re in?”

No. I’m not going to debase myself for money by letting you put that hot, eager tongue into my— “Fine, fine.”

“Thanks, Dee.” He took her hand, his blue eyes sincere. “You’re a real friend.”

Friend? She’d only ever thought of Zach as a necessary evil. Darlene pulled her hand away. “I better get back to work.”

“Not so fast.” Zach brightened, swinging back into his usual mode: entertainer. “It has come to my mother’s attention that despite my assurance you and I are deeply in love and engaging in regular bouts of horizontal folk dancing—”

“Ew.”

“—you are entirely absent from my digital footprint.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we need to be just as obnoxious as all the other coupled fools and document our happiness.” He held up his phone and fluttered his eyelids. “For social media.”

“Your mom follows you on social?”

“Stalks is a more accurate description. Nothing gets past her. She makes MI5 look like a bunch of bumbling idiots, and I don’t know how much longer I can tell her you’re just very private about online PDA. I figured we shoot a few here, then go for a jaunt around the neighborhood. I can pepper them all in over the next five months.”

“On which account?” Darlene had a public account for their duo and a private account for herself.

“Yours, obviously. I think Mum’s already requested to follow you.”

Unless she texted every single person who followed her, that’d make her friends think they were together. Zach was, objectively, good-looking—there’d be some cachet in casting him as her boyfriend. But he was also Zach. She imagined her book club texting behind her back.

Doesn’t she know he’s f*cked half of NY?