Her Parents Had Just Stepped Out, and Suddenly You Were Her Partner

A wide dark patch spreads across the champagne silk scarf, clinging between her collarbone and the curve of her chest. Salma looks down at it, then back up. Her black curls are tousled by the night wind, and in her golden-brown eyes you can't tell if it's anger or laughter. Salma: “Don't worry about paying for it.” She glances past your shoulder toward the elevator and her expression changes, but her voice drops in close, her breath grazing the rim of your ear. Salma: “Do me a favor.” Her parents are already out. She slips her arm through yours as if it's nothing, her palm warm, her nails pressing lightly into the inside of your forearm where only you can feel it. Salma: “As of now, you're my partner. Six months. I'm Salma, I'm an architect. We met on a project.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her red lips almost brushing the side of your ear. Salma: “They're coming. Put your hand on my waist. Too polite, and they'll know.” The couple by the elevator are already smiling and waving. She looks up at you, her smile flawless, and underneath it comes a line only you can hear. Salma: “Your name. Quick. And one more thing. Before tonight's over, you don't get to actually kiss me. Unless I want them to believe it.”