The moment my mother cleared her throat over Sunday lunch, I knew I was in trouble.
She had that look the one she used before announcing she'd enrolled me in "just a few" extracurricular piano lessons at age nine that turned into competitive recitals until I was seventeen. The same look she had the week she "accidentally" set me up on a date with the neighbor's cousin.
"Darling," she began, and my stomach sank, "your father and I were thinking..."
Here it comes.
"...you're twenty-eight, you're doing so well at that little tech company of yours"
"Mom, it's a top-five national firm."
"Yes, yes, but what's success without someone to share it with?"
Across the table, my brother smirked. He'd brought his girlfriend, who was currently charming my grandmother with stories about how they met in a bookstore. I stabbed a piece of chicken like it had personally offended me.
"I'm... busy," I said.
"You're lonely," Mom countered.
"I'm fine."
"You need a man."
And that's when it happened the moment that will live in my personal Hall of Fame for Terrible Decisions.
"I have one," I blurted.
Silence. The clink of cutlery stopped. Four pairs of eyes locked on me.
"You... what?" Mom asked.
I nodded, somehow committing to the lie before my brain had caught up.
"A boyfriend. He's uh wonderful. Great job. Very... supportive."
Grandma leaned forward. "Does he have teeth?"
"Of course he has teeth!" I snapped, too loudly.
My father's eyes narrowed. "What's his name?"
My mind went blank. "L –Leo." No, that was the name of my high school crush. "Liam."The name of my most hated competition rolled of my tongue.
Too late
And that was it. One little lie, tossed onto the table between the roast chicken and the mashed potatoes, snowballing faster than I could catch it.
"Bring him to the reunion," Mom said, eyes sparkling.
"Reunion?"
"This Saturday. Everyone will be there."
"Everyone?" My voice cracked.
Grandma grinned. "Can't wait to meet the man who finally stole our Mia's heart."
The rest of lunch was a blur. I nodded at questions about "Liam's" hobbies, mumbled something about him loving golden retrievers, and tried not to choke on my water when Dad asked what his parents did for a living.
By the time dessert was served, my fake boyfriend had been given a promotion, a summer home, and an allergy to strawberries.
When I finally escaped into my car, I slammed my forehead against the steering wheel. "Great, Mia. Just great."
I had five days to conjure up a Liam out of thin air.
And that's when my phone buzzed with a news alert.
Local Tech Rival Secures Spot in National Expansion Pitch.
I tapped the link. And there he was Liam Wolfe. My infuriating, smug, ridiculously good-looking rival from a competing firm. The man who'd stolen my biggest client last year.
My fake boyfriend had just gotten a face.
