In this moment, I know this is it. There is no one like Nathan, not the way he’s holding me, so firmly, the length of my body pressed up against his. And the moment I realize it, I know I’m pretty much screwed.
3
Present Day
Meddy [7:03PM]: This is such a bad idea. How in the hell did I let them talk me into doing this?
Selena [7:04PM]: By being yourself?
Meddy [7:04PM]:
Meddy [7:05]: It’s all your fault! If you’d been at dim sum, you would’ve run interference and I wouldn’t be sitting here waiting for some dude my mom’s been catfishing!
Selena [7:06PM]: Right, like I would’ve dared stop your fam’s plans of setting you up. Plus, this is fun!
Meddy [7:08PM]: You are the worst. Know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna tell them this date went so well that they should do the same for you.
Selena [7:09PM]: If your mom can find me a rich hotel owner to date, I’m down. What’s the problem?
I sigh and lower the phone to the table. If I told her the truth, that I’m still hung up on Nathan, she’d tell me to stop being so pathetic.
“Hello, Meddelin?” A warm, low voice says.
I startle, shaking all thoughts of Nathan out of my mind. Do not start off this date being haunted by Nathan’s ghost. I look up, and—okay, Ma, you did well. Fourth Aunt was wrong. Jake is definitely not a troll. He’s not as devastatingly gorgeous as Nathan—ugh, stop it, self—but he’s definitely good-looking. He’d fit into a K-pop band for sure. Tall, lithe, flawless skin, and a slightly impish smile that I find impossible not to return. Fourth Aunt would be all over him. I stand to give the handsome man before me a—oh god, hug or handshake? He reaches out and pulls me into a hug, solving my minor crisis and hiding my social ineptitude, his hand lingering on my lower back. By the time we break apart, I’m blushing a little. That wasn’t a normal “Nice to meet you” hug. Or was it? Have I been out of the game that long?
Jake must have sensed my slight unease, because he gives me a sheepish grin and says, “Sorry if that was too much. I’m just so excited to finally meet you in person.”
Of course. For him, we are not complete strangers. We’ve been chatting for weeks. The poor sucker. I can’t believe my mom catfished someone into dating me. Okay, focus. I manage a smile. “Um, me too.”
“You are even more beautiful in person,” he says, and reaches across the table to take my hands.
Uhhh.
My smile freezes into a Chrissy Teigen–esque grimace-smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He flags down a waiter and says, “Bring us a bottle of your best champagne.”
Is there a polite way of pulling my hands back? My mind is short-circuiting, trying to work its way through the mess. Okay, so obviously things have gotten deep for this guy. Deeper than Ma led me to believe. Damn it, why didn’t I try harder to see the chat messages? If I pulled my hands away, would he feel hurt? Betrayed? Oh god, even worse, what if he realizes it wasn’t me he’s been talking to but my mother? He’ll lose his shit for sure, and then would he try to get us fired? Bad-mouth us to the bride and groom at the very least? Jesus, what if he sues us? Is that even possible?
“You okay?” he says.
I blink and refocus on him. I take a deep breath. “Sorry, yeah, I’m fine.”
“Something on your mind?”
You suing me and my family for fraud. “Um, nothing. Just. Work, I guess?”
He nods. “Like I’ve told you before, your work is amazing.”
Heat rises up my neck. I almost blurt out, “You’ve seen my work?” But manage to stop myself in time. Of course he’s seen my work. It would’ve been one of the first things Ma revealed to him. Our website, with thousands of pictures of happy couples, is pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.
“You capture all those emotions so well,” he continues. “Honestly, sometimes I’m like, damn, Jake, how did you get this lucky?”
I laugh weakly. He is in deep, the poor guy. I’ll be nice. I’ve got to give this a good go, if only for his sake. I almost stupidly say, “And what is it you do?” when I recall that I do actually know what he does. “You’re too kind. So tell me, how did you get into the hotel business?”
Jake shrugs. “I was working in finance right out of college. Worked on Wall Street for a while, and then I thought, Well, I’ve made a fortune—a couple of fortunes, really . . .” He laughs. I don’t really see what’s funny, but I laugh along anyway, then feel like a complete idiot. “I toyed around with a few ideas and then decided I wanted to build a resort where my family and friends could visit and have fun. Why not, right? It’s a perk of being filthy rich.”