Page 12 of Her Inconvenient Wedding Date

She rolls her eyes. “Right.”

“And here’s number four—I’m going to be o-fish-ally cooked when Hunter shows up and Ma and Ba discover he’s not Chinese. I thought it’d be safer for them to meet in a public place, in case Ma starts getting dramatic, but I didn’t think we’d have an audience. But, then again, this could be a good thing!” I straighten my posture and stand to my feet, no longer needing the wall for moral support. A wave of relief washes over me as I tell Jasmine, “Ma can’t very well admit to her sisters that she had no idea I went against her wishes.She’ll be so concerned about saving face, she’ll have to hold herself together. At least she’ll save her guilt trips for later when we’re alone.”

Jasmine gasps. “You’re right! Maybe we should call up some of their church friends and neighbors, too. The more witnesses, the better, right?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I think we’re good.” Apparently, my sister inherited all the efficiency genes from our mother. She’s already scrolling through the contacts in her phone to find people to add to our guest list. “I don’t think Ma would appreciate paying for any more tables.”

“Good point. But they could stand outside and press their faces against the glass.” She smirks, pointing to the large floor to ceiling windows that look out into the parking lot of the strip mall. Her expression softens as she clasps her hands over her chest. “Oh, Bruce is here! Who’s that tall guy he’s talking to?”

My gaze follows hers until it lands on two men walking past the restaurant windows. They look to be deep in conversation, with Bruce doing most of the talking. The guy Jasmine’s asking about is none other than Hunter, my fake fiancé. Let me say that in all caps because it bears repeating. HUNTER PAYNE IS MY FAKE FIANCÉ!

Cold beads of sweat break out on my forehead as I realize it’s showtime. I swallow hard and utter, “That’s him. My fi…fi…”

“Your fifi? What’s a fifi?”

“No! My fi…” The mouth refuses to cooperate, so I spit out, “Him. Hunter.”

“That’s your fiancé?!” Jasmine now resembles one of the fish in the tank with her mouth agape and eyes bugged out. “You didn’t tell me he’s sohandsome!”

“Is he?”

“I can’t believe Bruce got to meet him before me!” She tugs on my arm as she practically drags me toward the entrance. Thankfully, we’re able to sneak along the walls of the opposite end of the restaurant from where our family is sitting. “Come on, I need to get a closer look at your hunky hubby-to-be!”

Hunky? I’ve never thought of my goofy coworker as a hunk before, but I suppose he has a few things going in his favor. Now that I’ve seen a couple of his outfits outside of work, I’ll admit he has an impressive fashion sense for an engineer—no offense to my fellow Code Crafters. Today, he’s wearing a blue sport coat that shows off his broad shoulders and his hair is combed to the side, à la Clark Kent. He’s also sans-glasses again, so I can see the sparkle in his baby blues the moment our eyes lock through the glass pane of the front door. My stomach does a weird flip that I chalk up to nerves because I suddenly realize I did not think this plan through. For someone who prides herself on being good with details, I left out a dozen of them, all of which are necessary if we’re going to pull off this heist.

Yep, this fake engagement now feels like a robbery because I’ve most definitely lost my wits.

Pushing open the door, I rush outside and greet Hunter with a forced smile. “Hey! I need to talk to you before we go inside.”

“Sure thing, my precious.”

My precious?! Before I can question his choice of words, my sister pulls him into a hug.

“Welcome to the family, Hunt! Can I call you Hunt? Oh wow, you’re tall. Isn’t he tall, honey?” Jasmine directs her question at Bruce whose head bounces up and down like a Bobblehead. “Bruce and I are thrilled for you and Lily. So thrilled! You’re making our wishes come true!”

“Didn’t I say Jasmine would be thrilled to meet you?”Bruce beams like he’s accepting the Nobel Peace Prize, which could very well be in his future given how brilliant he is. But for now, he’s soaking up all of Jasmine’s adoration. “You showed up in the nick of time, Hunter. Like I was about to tell you, my grandparents are getting up there in age and their greatest wish is to attend their only grandson’s wedding. They’ll finally get to see their wish come true, and it’s all because of you.”

“You don’t say.” Hunter tugs at his shirt collar and laughs nervously. “That’s no pressure at all.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jasmine pipes up. “It’s good you’re meeting our parents for the first time in public. Now if our mom offers to meet up with you later in a dark alley, I’d start worrying. Come on, Bruce! We’re going to head in first, Jie! See you inside!”

As soon as the lovebirds are gone, I pull Hunter a few feet over to a brick wall where we’ll be safe from prying eyes inside the restaurant. There’s so much to go over with him, I don’t know where to start. “So, um, about this lunch…”

“Yes, Lil?”

Hearing him call meLilmakes my anxiety drop a few notches. There’s an almost hypnotic quality to his smooth-as-melted-chocolate voice, but it’s also the fact that he’s acting like his usual self. The Hunter I know from the office is approachable and dependable and he doesn't call me nicknames likemy precious. The topic of terms of endearment shoots straight to the top of my list of things to discuss. “I realized we didn’t go over some important things, like pet names. I’m okay if you want to stick with Lil, butmy preciousis a bit…”

“Too much like Gollum?” he asks. “I didn’t even try saying it in his voice yet.But, okay, no moremy precious. How about darling or sweetheart or baby? Ifigure we should say and do some couple-y things to look more believable.”

“We probably should, but let’s not do anything cheesy. I’m lactose intolerant in more ways than one.”

“You’re funny, too.” He grins in amusement. “Okay, fair enough. Nothing cheesy. What about physical affection? Are you okay with holding hands? Hugs? Any intolerances I should know about for that?”

I shudder involuntarily. “Oh, no no no. I’m not a touchy person at all. In our family, we don’t do any kind of affection, physical or otherwise. It’s a cultural thing. Actually, that’s not completely true. Chinese parents do show they care by their actions.”

“Like cutting fruit for you or asking if you’ve eaten yet,” Hunter states matter-of-factly.

“Um, yes. How did you know that? Have you dated a Chinese girl before?”

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