Page 98 of Things We Fake
“I try,” Sue said. “But honestly, I spend half my time preventing small fires. Figurative and literal.”
Mom tilted her head, watching Sue closely in that way that made Craig, Becky and I sweat—and not just when we were kids.
“I imagine that takes a lot of patience.”
“It does. But I love it. It’s exhausting, yet every so often you have those moments where you see a kid light up because they get something. That’s what makes it worth it.”
I glanced at her, my mouth twitching in a losing battle with a smile. I loved hearing her talk about her job. She was as passionate about education and teaching as I was.
“She’s being modest,” I said. “She’s basically a superhero. Between her classes and the school reading club, she probably runs on three hours of sleep and pure determination.”
She nudged me. “Oh, look who’s talking, Mister CEO.”
Becky perked up. “Yeah, let’s talk about that. How exactly does a guy who writes code for a living end up with someone who deals with kids all day? Seems like an odd match.”
I shrugged, completely unfazed. “She’s the one person who makes me forget about work. When I’m with her, I actually relax.”
Becky blinked. “Wow. That might be the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
Sue turned to me, raising an eyebrow. “She’s got a point.”
I focused my attention on the traffic. “I need to be careful here.”
I tried to ignore the warm, gooey feeling this situation gave me—having my three favorite women together, bonding, talking shop. This was all part of the act. Maybe after today we could just be ourselves and see where this relationship would go without outside pressure. Fat chance though. The next thing would be everyone asking us about the wedding date. Everyone would butt into our business. It would never end—until we ended.
When we reached the restaurant, I pulled into the valet lane outside The River Café. We stepped out of the car. Sue was subtly doing breathing exercises. Mom adjusted her hair, exuding elegance and style. Becky was practically bouncing on her toes, clearly loving the drama of the moment.
I circled around and offered Sue my hand like a true gentleman.
“Last chance to make a run for it,” I whispered.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t tempt me. You’ve no idea how close I am.”
I smiled and squeezed her fingers. “Too late now, fiancée.”
She sighed, and I led her inside.
The moment we stepped through the doors, the restaurant’s soft lighting and ridiculously elegant atmosphere enveloped us. The place was stunning—the Manhattan skyline glittered beyond the enormous windows, the scent of fresh flowers and gourmet cuisine filled the air, and the soft murmur of conversation hummed beneath a live jazz trio playing in the corner.
I barely had time to soak it in before I spotted Sue’s family. Even if I hadn’t met them online, I would know them instantly in any crowd.
They were already seated, their energy loud even in the silence.
Sue’s father was perusing the wine list, his brow furrowed in reverent concentration. He was an imposing man with silver-tinged dark hair and a square, clean-shaven jaw. His wife sat beside him, effortlessly stunning in an ivory dress that hugged her body. Her silver hair might have looked unkempt on another woman, but on her it exuded class. She was the epitome of beauty and grace—poised, commanding, and intimidating as hell.
The man I presumed was Sue’s brother, Paul, was a younger version of his father, with darker hair and a short beard. His wife, Michelle, glowing with pregnancy, was smiling warmly, one hand resting on her belly.
Next to them were two empty chairs, waiting, like the hot seats in an interrogation room.
Becky let out a low whistle beside me. “Damn, it’s like meeting royalty.”
Mom chuckled. “I like them already.”
Next to me, Sue was a bundle of nerves. I was almost grateful for it, because keeping her calm kept me calm.
I pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered a quick encouragement in her ear. “Deep breaths. We got this.”
Sue’s mother’s eyes lifted and locked onto her daughter. Her entire face lit up in a radiant smile.
