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I’d been on a few first dates before, but never with men I was sexually attracted to. With those dates, I just threw on some nice clothes, slapped on a bit of makeup, and made sure I was showing enough of my breasts to not look frigid, while not too much to look like a slut.  

This date was different. This time all the emotions I read about in books or saw on TV were flowing through my body with enough force to make me have second thoughts about the entire thing. It had taken me nearly two hours to get ready, and I’d had butterflies in my stomach since lunchtime.  

I briefly considered calling off the date, but that wouldn’t help. I’d still be a nervous wreck, but instead of being nervous about the date, I would be nervous about seeing Jaxon again.

This was supposed to be a real date, so I made sure to turn up ten minutes late. Not so late it would be rude, but enough to make Jaxon a little anxious. I was terrified, so it was only fair to make him panic a bit as well.  

We hadn’t booked a table because this place didn’t typically need reservations, but tonight it was actually rather busy. The bar area was packed, and there were a few loud groups who were making short work of pitchers of beer that were discounted for happy hour.

Jaxon was nowhere to be seen. I walked around the entire bar twice and then sat down at a small table I’d found in the back corner of the room.  

Where are you?
I asked via text message. No response. After five minutes I went back through my emails to make sure I was in the right place. We’d discussed meeting here a few times and agreed it was a good location. Jaxon’s latest email specifically said to meet here at seven thirty.

I sent another message. I
s this what you always do on first dates? Isn’t it bad form to keep the lady waiting?
I added a :-) to the end of the message even though I wasn’t feeling all that :-) at the moment.

A few minutes later, a message did come through on my phone, but it was from my best friend, Aaron.
Just saw Jaxon in Place 99. Are you going to be here too? We should catch up.

Aaron knew Jaxon and I were close and regularly went drinking together, but he had no idea what else we did. He was my best friend, but he wouldn’t want to hear about me being sexually attracted to my stepbrother.  

What was Jaxon doing in Place 99? We’d never once discussed meeting there. It was full of people I knew and an awful place for a discrete date.  

Place 99 was only a ten minute walk away and it was early enough that this neighborhood still felt safe enough to walk in alone. I had no idea what was going on, but I intended to walk inside and drag Jaxon out of there as quickly as possible. There was no way we could have a real date in a place where I was likely to bump into people I knew from high school.  

I should have just gone home. What I saw in Place 99 ruined my life.  

“Are you really going to do this?” Aaron asked.

“I have to,” I replied. “I don’t have a choice. I thought you agreed with me.”

“I do,” Aaron said. “Kind of. I understand why you’re doing it, but man, she’s going to be devastated.”

“Not as devastated as she would be if something happened to me in the next year.”

“How’s this going to work?” Emilia asked. “Me and you just have to kiss until Jenny sees us. Is that the gist of it?”

“Yep,” I said. “I think we need to kiss for real in case Jenny notices that it looks fake.”

“Fine with me,” Emilia said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Well it’s not with me,” I said. “But I don’t have a choice.”

“You don’t have to sound quite so disgusted at the thought of kissing me,” Emilia said. “I’m not that bad.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I appreciate you helping me out with this. I just didn’t think I’d be kissing another woman tonight.”

“You really like her, don’t you?” Aaron asked.  

“Of course. That’s why I’m doing this. Is she on her way?”

Aaron nodded. “She’ll be here any minute. You should get ready. I’ll go stand in the corner and give you a hand sign when she’s about to walk in.”

My heart raced in my chest. When Jenny and I had agreed to go on a date this evening, my mind had run through all the possible ways it might end. Most of them involved a hotel and a shitload of condoms. None of them involved me kissing one of her friends from school. It had taken a drastic set of circumstances to lead me to this decision, but I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice.

“She’s coming,” Emilia said, picking up on Aaron’s hand-signal.

“Okay, let’s do this.”  

I rested my hand lightly on Emilia’s leg, but didn’t apply any pressure. I’d never touched a woman’s leg in such a platonic way before. I leaned in towards Emilia, closed my eyes, and kissed her.  

I imagined I was an actor playing a role; it was the only way I could get through it. We kissed—or at least our lips stayed in contact for a minute—until Aaron came over and put his hand on my shoulder. Emilia and I pulled apart. I resisted the urge to wipe my lips because that didn’t seem fair to Emilia, but I desperately wanted to go and shower.

“It worked,” Aaron said softly. “She saw you, paused for a few seconds, and then ran out.”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m sorry for what’s happening to you, but don’t thank me for helping you hurt my best friend. We should go our separate ways now.”

Aaron, Emilia, and I all left the bar and headed in different directions. I might never see Jenny again, but worst of all, that had been my decision. Not a decision I’d made lightly, but the one that I thought was best for Jenny.  

I had my reasons for what I did, and I was sure I’d done the right thing, but doing the right thing really sucked sometimes.

One thing was for sure, I was hurting as much as Jenny right now, if not more. I headed to a hotel by myself and wallowed in self-pity for the evening. I couldn’t take my mind off Jenny and dreamt about her that evening and every one after that. I’d never forget her, but I hoped to God she would forget me.

My four years at Harvard University had kept me busy, but I didn’t even get close to moving on from Jaxon. I still thought about him all the time; it was impossible not to when people at college were constantly talking about him for his success as a soccer player in Europe. I tried not to pay too much attention to what he was doing, but the last year or so must have been a good one because there was now talk of him playing for the national team.

I hadn’t seen Jaxon since that night we were supposed to have a date, but I did have to face his mom every time I went back home for the holidays. Carrie insisted on telling me every little detail of his life whenever I saw her, but I did my best not to pay any attention.

At least Jaxon and I had different surnames so no one at Harvard connected me to him. The last thing I wanted was everyone asking me about my good-looking and famous stepbrother who had cheated on me when we were supposed to be having a date. Did it still count as cheating if we hadn’t even been on a date? Probably not, but the hurt I’d endured for the last four years had been real regardless of the technicalities.

As soon as I finished my degree, I started looking for a job on the West Coast. I didn’t want to move away from my father, but I needed to get away from Carrie. Every time I saw her I thought about Jaxon. Besides, she was a complete bitch, and we didn’t get on at all. God only knows what my Dad saw in her. 

The job search had progressed slowly, but I never got to the stage where I was truly panicking. I had little in the way of real work experience, but a degree from Harvard tended to open doors. I arranged for three consecutive interviews and was about to book a flight to California when Carrie stuck her nose into things.

Carrie worked as an investment banker on Wall Street and she insisted that the best thing for me to do was to get a few years’ work experience and then go to business school. I didn’t hate the idea of going to business school, but Carrie and I had a different idea on what constituted a good way to get work experience. 

I wanted to go and work for a tech company in California—preferably a startup—but Carrie insisted I go and work for her firm as a banker. I tried to explain that my social studies major hadn’t exactly prepared me for a career working with numbers, but she didn’t let up. Eventually, Carrie proposed a compromise, and set me up with a job working for one of her major clients.

I tried to reject the offer of her help at first, but Dad wanted me to stay close by, and one of the startups I was to interview with had already canceled due to financial issues. I suppose working for a big company did have some advantages. I had no clue what the company actually did or how it made money, but I was offered a position after a brief interview and it paid well. I would be working as part of a large team with little real responsibility which suited me just fine. All I had to do was analyze contracts according to certain metrics, and work with the legal team to prepare revisions and help with negotiations.

The job meant working in New York City—at least an hour commute from home—but after a few months on a comfortable salary I would be able to afford to move out of the family home, and ultimately that was my main priority. The job had sounded almost too good to be true, and it was.

Immediately after starting, I was quickly reassigned to a subsidiary of the parent company which just happened to be a new soccer franchise starting up in the city. Alarm bells were ringing in my head; this was far too much of a coincidence. 

I just so happened to be working for a soccer team that was looking for new players and I had a stepbrother who was a soccer player. Just a couple of days into the job my worst fears were confirmed; I’d not been hired for my abilities or even for my Harvard degree. I’d been hired for my relationship with Jaxon. 

My job did involve analyzing contracts and helping with negotiations, but it just so happened that my first contract was an attempt to sign Jaxon for the New York United soccer team. Major League Soccer had already agreed on a transfer fee with Jaxon’s club, so New York United just needed Jaxon to agree to personal terms, and he would be moving back to New York. Back into my life.

Jaxon’s agent had played hardball so New York United decided it was time to use its magic weapon—me. That was why I now found myself on a crowded train from London to Liverpool, watching the sun set outside, while the rain increased from a light drizzle to a heavy downpour. 

It was a Friday night so I was surrounded by commuters who’d been working in London for the week and were now heading home. Every other person on the train had a large bag or suitcase with them, and they seemed entirely unaware of the designated luggage compartments, instead putting their suitcases on the seat next to them when the train was standing room only. I’d managed to get a seat, but the guy next to me had a bag at his feet and a suitcase on his lap, leaving me with little room to breathe.

According to all the hype in the press, Major League Soccer would be paying in the region of $20 million to sign Jaxon. That seemed like a heck of a lot of money to me, and yet I’d sat in economy class on the flight over and on the train ride up to Liverpool. Would a few thousand extra have been a big deal for the club? It certainly would’ve made a heck of a lot of difference to my mood right now.