Page 30 of Her Game Plan

Charlotte stares at me, clearly trying to understand why I’m being so rude about this, but I’m not taking my fake girlfriend to meet the most important person in my life so we can lie to her and give her a sense of false hope. Not happening.

After a beat of silence, Charlotte says, “Okay. Well, what else do you think I should know in case the media decides it’s interested in our relationship?”

“When they decide they’re interested,” I correct her.

“When,” she agrees as I get up to grab the food that’s finally ready.

We chat while we eat, covering the basics of our past, most of which we seem to know about each other, but we talk through it anyway. I steer clear of anything else related to my parents or how I came to live with Nan, and Charlotte lets me get away with my avoidance.

My gaze trails over her as she takes the final bites of her food, tracing laugh lines next to her eyes. When she’s finally finished eating, she says, “So, I’ve got some bad news.”

“Oh no. What’s up?”

“We’ve been invited to a Langford family dinner next weekend.” The way she says it makes it seem like we’re the foes about to be vanquished.

“Okay.” I knew it was coming. Unlike the fact that we’d be living together, her family’s get-togethers were something Charlotte mentioned when she first asked for my help. I can handle a couple of family dinners.

Charlotte closes one eye, squinting up at the red umbrella over us. “I may have undersold it to you.”

I stare at her. “Ritual sacrifices? Just tell me now: am I the sacrifice? Because I’m going to eat a lot more Nerds Clusters this week if I’m not making it past the weekend.”

“What the fuck is a Nerds Cluster?” Charlotte scoffs, completely ignoring the question.

I don’t even have to fake my disbelief. “Do you live under a rock, Princess? Nerds Gummy Clusters are only the best candy since…” I wrack my brain for something better than the little balls of sugary goodness.

“The candy bar?”

I take a long drink. This woman does not understand. And it’s up to me to educate her. Now, I’m not normally a mansplainer, but this is Nerds Clusters. “No. Not the candy bar. That’s like comparing a Cosmic Brownie to a chocolate soufflé.”

Amusement dances in her eyes. “Explain it to me like I’m five.”

“Have you ever had a Nerds Rope?” Yes. I’m onto something here. They’re similar. Not the same. But definitely similar.

She purses her lips. “Maybe. When I was at the pool one summer?”

“You’re literally killing me here, Princess. Come on.” I stand, motioning for her to get up as well.

“Come on, where? Where are you going?” She rises, too, grabbing her plate and cup to bring inside.

I pick mine up as well, pleased I’m barely halfway through my drink. “Get in the car. We’re going to the convenience store.” Stalking through the house after setting my dishes in the sink, I call over my shoulder, “You cannot live your life this way. It is my job—nay, my duty—as your fake boyfriend, to educate you on such things.”

She follows on my heels, her attitude surprisingly upbeat for a last-minute run to the nearest store for Nerds Clusters. Or maybe the appropriate amount of upbeat.

I hit one of the seven garage door openers as we enter. “Come on, we’re taking the G.” The black Mercedes is the ideal car for this adventure. The exact fun but nostalgic vibes we want.

“You have too many vehicles,” Charlotte observes as she climbs into the passenger seat.

“No such thing. I need one for each mood.”

As I back out, Charlotte rolls down her window, sticking her hand out to catch the breeze.

I watch, unable to look away, as she smiles. “Are you going to stick your bare feet on the dashboard, too?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m worried you’ll cry if I get your precious G covered in foot juices.”

I whip my head to face her, coming to a stop at the end of my driveway. “Why do your feet have juices?”

She points to the road. “I was joking, you oaf.”