It’s probably a good thing I opted to not wear my Artists Do It In Full Color T-shirt.
“See to it that my luggage is taken to the guest quarters upstairs and make Amelia comfortable in the room down the hall,” Giovanna orders me. “Charlotte will take the en suite in the basement.”
“Carry your own luggage, Mother,” Hayes says. “Begonia isn’t here to serve you.”
“Ah, my sweet boy. So cranky when you’re tired.” She pats his cheek, turning her back on me like I’m the hired help, which would make a lot more sense than what I signed paperwork agreeing to. “Have you had anything to eat today? That never helps either.”
“Neither do uninvited guests.”
“Hayes.”
“Mother.”
“I realize you’re old enough to take care of yourself, but it’s been a difficult two weeks, and you shouldn’t be by yourself right now.”
I fling myself between them and grip Giovanna’s hand, pumping it enthusiastically, because oh my god, I’m touching Jonas Rutherford’s mother. “Mrs. Rutherford. Hi. I’m Begonia. It is so good to meet you. Hayes hasn’t told me much about you, but then, you could probably say the same about what he’s told you about me, couldn’t you?”
She smiles at me, but it’s one of those patient smiles that I give my students when they try to convince me that a blank canvas is art just because they didn’t want to do the assignment.
Or possibly like that smile my mother gave me when I told her I was divorcing Chad.
“I’m sorry, I have no idea who you are,” Giovanna says, smile still in place, patiently letting me continue pumping her hand without pulling away.
I wonder if this happens when she visits the Razzle Dazzle Village amusement parks. Strangers accosting her and shaking her hands and telling her thank you for being part of the family that runs their favorite vacation spot.
“Relax, darling, I’m quite all right with it if she doesn’t like you.” Hayes slips an arm around my waist, his fingers resting above my hip. It’s an intimate gesture suggesting we’re much more acquainted than we actually are, and it should make me uncomfortable—I don’t need another overbearing man in my life, even if I’m mostly game for fake-dating a billionaire—but instead of my common sense reminding me that this is pretend, my vagina reminds me that it’s been somewhere between twelve and eighteen months since a man’s touched me for anything other than a handshake or a hug among colleagues or family. I don’t remember the last time Chad and I had sex, but I do remember it wasn’t any more memorable than a handshake, which is the only thing that made it memorable.
“Begonia, meet my mother, Giovanna. Mother, this is Begonia Fairchild. My girlfriend.”
My mom looks nothing like Giovanna Rutherford.
But I know that disappointed mother face.
I know it very well.
It disappears nearly as quickly as it appears though, which makes me wonder if Jonas got his acting skills from this side of the family.
“Ah, again?” she murmurs, fake smile still plastered on.
A-ha! I was right.
He’s used fake girlfriends before.
Possibly including the mayor here.
And now I want to know how that one went down. It couldn’t have been terrible if she was willing to come ring the gate bell.
Or does he just have very, very poor taste in women?
Of all the time to have my internet speed dependent on a hotspot on someone else’s bad wireless connection, the moment when I need to google my new fake boyfriend’s relationship history is not ideal.
“Yes, Mother, I have a girlfriend again,” Hayes says. “Begonia and I met on a Snarflings World forum while I was incognito, moved private chats to phone calls, and I asked her to meet me here. She had no idea until this morning who I actually am, nor to whom I’m related, and I’d prefer if you don’t make her uncomfortable.”
Wow.
He’s good.
Except I wouldn’t be caught dead within seventeen miles of a Snarflings World forum, since it was Chad’s favorite television show and I never really got it.
Aliens trying to correct things wrong with Earth and always getting it wrong?
They could’ve tackled world hunger or environmental disasters, and instead, they were like, we must save humans from Cheerios.
It was so absurd it wasn’t even funny.
And now I wonder just how odd Hayes really is, and also if he knows that little detail about Chad from his background check on me.