Mister Fake Fiance

Inhaling, I delete the text and start over.

–Me: I’m really not picky. Anything will be fine. Thank you for asking.

There. The perfect answer. Distant but polite, so she can’t complain about it. But part of me is dissatisfied and sad that I can’t give her or anybody the kind of openness and warmth they deserve.

I take a moment to compose myself and gather my thoughts. This is only for three months. As long as I’m careful, it’s going to work. I’m going to have the ordinary, normal and happy experience I want, and I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.

I stick my phone into my purse and head to the bar to join David and the team.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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David

I wouldn’t normally say yes to a happy hour on Wednesday. Not after Gerry humiliated us and his disgraceful behavior is the biggest gossip topic at the water cooler. Sure, everyone’s whispering, but voice volume doesn’t correlate to interest level.

Matt and HR are going to look into the incident, but only because Gerry said it was just a big misunderstanding. But since I can’t stand the sight of him, he’s on unpaid leave for a week until everything is sorted out. We’ll know for sure once we get the security video from the bar. If it really was a misunderstanding—yeah, sure—we’ll give him the back pay.

But everyone in marketing worked their butt off for the presentation. Even though we haven’t won the Ivy Foundation contract yet, it’d be unfair to take away their reward just because of Gerry’s behavior.

Plus Erin did really well, and I want her contribution recognized. She’s come a long way since she started working for me two years ago.

My phone beeps.

–Mom: Okay, you have to help me. What’s Erin’s favorite food?

–Me: I thought you were contacting her about it.

–Mom: I did, but she’s being overly circumspect. She’s going to have to be more demanding if she’s going to join this family.

Hmm. Erin can be a bit reserved. It took me a while to get her to smile and relax when she first started working for me.

–Me: Why don’t you tell her that?

–Mom: Because it’ll be easier if you just tell me! Plus it’ll be a fun surprise. I want to be a great mother-in-law. And that means being nice to your fiancée. The relationship starts early, kiddo, even before the wedding.

Mom’s excitement comes through the text. And I feel like a shitty person because I can’t help her. Despite the fact that Erin and I have known each other for two years, I honestly have no clue what she likes. I’m pretty sure it isn’t what she’s been baking and feeding me. But at the same time…

I think back. Erin almost never expresses a preference one way or another. She just smiles and says she’s okay with anything.

–Mom: Well?

I can’t tell her I don’t know. But at the same time, I can’t lie about this. What if she plans the menu according to what I say, then it turns out Erin’s allergic to something? Mom’s going to wonder why I didn’t know. Even if she doesn’t suspect it’s because our engagement is fake, she’ll scold me for being oblivious.

Must—fix—this.

–Me: She really is okay with whatever.

–Mom: Ugh. You’re as bad as she is, which I suppose is why you two are together. Fine. I’ll figure something out. But do ask and let me know if she’s craving anything, you hear? I just need a day’s notice to shop and whip it up.

–Me: OK, will do. Love you.

–Mom: Love you back, hon. Send my love to Erin too.

I smile at how her farewell now includes a line for Erin, then put the phone back in my pocket and head for the bar.

The place isn’t overly busy. It’s still too early and it’s the middle of the week. I spot my people grabbing drinks. Erin’s here too, giving the bartender a polite, reserved smile as she takes a glass of wine from him.