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Nina looks up at me in sympathy. “But . . . why do you need a pretend date? Couldn’t you have just picked up one of those women at a bar like you were talking about before?”
She smiles sweetly to hide the barb, but I still wince. That’s a good burn.
“I’m not looking for anything serious right now,” I say. “So you don’t need to worry. I’m not interested in whatever you thought I wanted back up there. I just need to get my family off my back.”
Now it’s her turn to look uncomfortable, but we don’t have any time to somehow make things even more awkward because we’re standing outside the grand ballroom where the reception is taking place.
“Thanks for this,” I lean in and whisper in Nina’s ear before we enter. The intoxicating scent of her perfume fills my nostrils. “I owe you. You can let me do the talking if you like.”
I pull a diamond ring out of my pocket and quickly slip it onto her finger. She looks down at it, and her gaze darts up at me.
“Brock! What the hell is this?” she asks with wide, shocked eyes.
“Just play along,” I say. “It’ll be fun.”
I wink at her as we enter the ballroom together. It’s already busy, with people laughing, chatting, eating, and drinking. Rosa and Philip are smiling for pictures while a team of photographers follow them around.
Many of the guests, no doubt Rosa’s relatives, look like the intimidating, hardened mobsters they are. I’m not even kidding—the Guerrieros are actual, real-life mafiosos—but that’s a story for another day. I’m just glad I don’t have anything to do with that whole family now.
Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ted are standing over near the canapés, and they spot me almost immediately, waving us over.
“Brock, darling, we’re so glad you decided to come along.”
I lean in and give Aunt Nancy a kiss, but she’s already focused on Nina, looking her up and down. Judging by the smile on her face, she quite clearly approves.
“And who is this, son?” my uncle asks, smiling.
“This is Nina,” I say. “My fiancée.”
“Your fiancée?” Aunt Nancy asks, exchanging surprised looks with her husband. “My, you do keep things close to your chest; don’t you, Brock?”
“I can agree with that,” Nina laughs, giving me a meaningful stare. “It’s lovely to meet you both. Brock has told me so much about you.”
They chat away for a while, and I immediately note just how good of an actress Nina is. She’s a natural, charming my aunt and uncle with wit and humor. Nobody would ever suspect that she only learned about being my ‘fiancée’ right before we entered this room.
I’m impressed. Really impressed. But I also take a mental note.
If she’s this good of a liar, I need to keep my guard up around her. Who knows what else she’s capable of?
But for now, I’m simply happy that she’s playing along, just like I asked her to, and she’s doing such a good job of it.
“So, how did you two meet?” Uncle Ted asks, smiling.
The question catches me momentarily off-guard, but Nina steps in smoothly.
“Roller derby,” she says. “We met at roller derby. Brock’s a whizz on his skates.”
“Roller-derby?” they ask, both laughing.
“Oh, yeah,” Nina says, grinning. “I’ll have to get him to demonstrate just how good he is for you some time.”
“Brock, how many other secrets are you hiding from us?” Aunt Nancy asks.
“Not many.” I smile tightly and squeeze Nina’s hand.
She squeezes right back and gives me the sweetest smile, the kind that’d make me almost believe she’s actually besotted with me if I wasn’t the one who invented this lie.
She’s enjoying herself a little too much.
I tell my aunt and uncle we’re going to look for a drink and drag Nina away before she says something even more ridiculous.
“Roller derby?” I hiss as we make our way through the crowd. “What the hell made you say that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, giggling. “First thing that came into my head, I guess. I think you’d look good in skates. Maybe some chunky, hot pink ones.”
“You will never see me wear roller skates,” I say through gritted teeth. “Never.”
“Oh, but Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ted would be so disappointed.” She pouts.
Before I have the chance to tell her to tone it down a little and let me do most of the talking, I suddenly hear my name being called.
I turn and groan internally.
It’s my parents.
Nina
I just can’t resist ribbing Brock a little.
When he slipped that ring onto my finger without so much as a warning . . . Well, I was somewhere between thrilled and horrified. I’ve barely had a chance to look at it, but it seems to be a real diamond—and a big, shiny one at that.
Anyway, if he’s going to put me on the spot and make me lie for him, the least I’m going to do is have some fun with it. If he expects me to be demure and quiet, he’s picked the wrong girl for his weird little ruse. I may as well have some fun with this whole situation if I’m going to be forced into it.
