Faking with Benefits : A Friends to Lovers Romance(10)

It took a hell of a lot of time for her to let down her guard around us, but when she did, it was worth it. She’s great. She does what she wants, and she doesn’t care what other people think of her. Hell, she models her own underwear designs online, for God’s sake. Puts pictures of herself half-naked on social media, even though she gets a ton of creepy guys leaving gross comments on them. She doesn’t care. She wants to model her stuff, so she does.

Which was why seeing her break down last night was so odd. I’ve never seen that side of Layla. I don’t like the thought that she’s been all sad and alone in her apartment, right at the other side of the hall.

“We should do something,” Josh mutters.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Josh has been head-over-heels for Layla ever since they met, but he won’t admit it. It’s obvious, though. When she’s happy about something, he’s wandering around the flat, humming under his breath. When she’s stressed, he gets all moody. He’s filled our kitchen cupboard with all of her favourite snacks, and lights up whenever she texts him. Seeing her cry probably killed him.

“We could just… do what she asked,” I point out. “Helping people with their relationships is literally what we do.”

“We’re not dating the girl,” Luke cuts in, sounding exhausted. “And she doesn’t need our help.”

“Then why was she crying in our living room?” Josh snaps back. “You saw her.”

“She was drunk.”

“That doesn’t mean that she wasn’t really upset.” He glances back down at the emails in front of him. “I think we should help her. Yeah, we can’t accept money, but maybe we could still… take her on a few practice dates, or something. Just to get her used to it.”

Luke stares. “You’re joking, right?”

“She said that she feels comfortable with us!” Josh argues. “That’s a big deal.”

Luke’s jaw stiffens. “Well, I don’t know if I feel comfortable telling a former student how to improve her love life.”

“You’ve got to get over this, man,” I tell him. “She’s not your student anymore. Come on, what’s the point of doing this job if we can’t even help people we care about?”

Before Luke can retort, there’s a knock on the door. “Guys?” Paul, our manager, calls through the wood. “Can I come in?”

I rub my eyes. I hate this guy. Ever since the podcast blew up years ago, we’ve been working for a media company. Buzztone. They produce a ton of podcasts.

I hate them. They can cut our pay whenever they want, they pick crappy sponsors, and we’re not even allowed to swear on our own show. And to top it all off, Paul is a money-hungry git.

“You may as well,” Josh calls tiredly, taking off his headphones. “We’re not getting anything done here.”

The door edges open, and Paul steps inside. Today, our squat little manager is dressed in a pinstriped three-piece suit with his hair oiled back, like an American car salesman. His face is grim.

“Let me guess,” I say flatly. “Numbers are down. Again.”

Paul’s mouth thins. “Worse. Sweetheart Soulmates have been making some comments about you guys overnight.” He slaps a tablet onto the table between us. “You need to see this.”

My fists clench. Sweetheart Soulmates is a rival relationship advice podcast that started getting popular last year. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me — I ain’t afraid of competition. But the advice they give is total crap. They tell their listeners that it’s a wife’s job to stay at home and look after the kids. That new fathers shouldn’t take paternity leave because they have to provide for the family. That giving teenage daughters birth control will just encourage them to sleep around. And the worst thing is, people actually believe them. I squint at the tweets.

Spent this evening listening to @ThreeSingleGuys DISGUSTING latest episode, which promotes FEMALE PROMISCUITY under the label of ‘s*x positivity’.

These men do not know what they’re talking about and should NOT be allowed to give advice. We are DEEPLY concerned for the impressionable young girls listening to their programme.





Each one has over three thousand likes.

I scoff. “Yeah, well, at least we give people actual advice. Instead of just tellin’ women, ‘hey, if your man cheats, it’s your fault, ‘cause you ain’t giving him enough blowies and sandwiches’.”

“If you don’t want people to take their advice,” Paul says calmly, “maybe you should focus on bringing their listeners over to Three Single Guys instead.”

“How?” Josh presses, scowling. “We haven’t changed anything. I don’t know how we’re losing listeners.”

Paul slaps a hand on the table. “Exactly. You haven’t changed anything. You’ve been doing this for five years now; your content is stale.” He plucks at the pile of printed listener emails. “There’s only so many of these questions you can answer before you’ve said everything ten times before. You need to branch out.”

“How?” Luke asks calmly. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Paul shrugs. “That’s your job. But if you don’t start bringing in more listeners, we’re gonna have to cut your funding.”