Page 60 of Phishing for Love
Kenzie kisses my mom on the cheek. “Nice seeing you, Mrs. Miller.”
“Really, Tess, why are you in such a hurry?” Mom asks as I steer her at a brisk pace past the rows of cubicles.
“I’m really hungry. Aren’t you hungry?”
We’re heading down the hallway toward reception, the elevator bank in sight, when we encounter Aaron walking toward us.
Nerves stir in my stomach. I was so close.
I look straight ahead and attempt to hustle my mom past Aaron without acknowledging him, but Mom, brimming with curiosity and Brown Oaks hospitality, comes to a stop and smiles up at him expectantly.
Of course, Aaron stops too. Probably because he senses how desperate I am for him to continue on his way.
Swallowing a frustrated sigh, I make a quick introduction. “Mom, this is Aaron. Aaron, my mom.”
She shakes his outstretched hand, her face practically glowing. “I’m pleased to meet you at last.”
At last. Two words that will be my undoing. Thanks, Mom.
Aaron’s knowing eyebrow, always vigilant, goes up. “Tess has mentioned me?”
Mom nods. “She said you’re new to town.”
That’s not all I said, and the flicker of mischief dancing across Aaron’s face says he knows it too.
“I guess I am new to town,” he acknowledges. “But it’s almost two months now since I arrived in Brown Oaks, so I feel like I’ve settled in.”
Mom looks scandalized. “Two months!” She shoots me a reproving look. “And this is the first time I’ve met you.”
And hopefully the last. I tilt my head toward the reception area. “We’re eating at one, Mom, so we better get going.”
She waves away my concern. “I didn’t make a reservation so we can arrive anytime.”
“Where are you eating?” Aaron asks, all polite charm. I’m not impressed. Snake oil salesmen had charm. So did Ted Bundy, apparently.
“Giovanni’s,” my mom replies. “Have you eaten there?”
“I haven’t.”
“They serve the best thick-crusted pizzas in Brown Oaks. They’ve been doing so for twenty years.”
“I’ll make sure to try them sometime.”
Mom’s eyes widen in sudden animation. “Aaron, why don’t you join us for lunch?”
I nearly levitate off the carpet in shock. Did my mother just invite my mortal enemy to lunch with us? Is she experiencing some sort of medical episode? Or is this payback for my moody teenage years?
I link my arm in hers, prepared to drag her away, if necessary. “That’s so kind of you, Mom,” I lie through clenched teeth. “But I was looking forward to some mother and daughter time.”
“Oh, Tess, we can have that anytime.”
“Yes, likenow.”
Mom gives my arm an indulgent pat. “Isn’t she sweet, wanting time with her mother?”
Aaron’s jaw flexes, as if he’s assessing his answer. “Sweetis the first word that comes to mind when I think of your daughter.”
Mom is still under his spell, so she fails to pick up the sarcastic edge to his words.
