The Fake Fiancée. Megan Kelly
to group a presentation. For instance, you could have put all the roses together, bunched the orchids, like that, displaying the quality of each entry against its rivals. But then you would have had a rose corner, an orchid corner, and so on, and it would have been boring, like picking out plants in a nursery.”
Joe gawked at her. Boring? What was she doing? Why didn’t she just say thanks to his mother’s compliment, tell her how in love she was with him, and skedaddle back to the kitchen?
“I’ve seen it done totally by color, too.”
He fought the urge to elbow her, fearing his mother would notice. With dread, he waited to hear what she’d say next because, as far as he could tell, his mom had grouped the flowers by color.
“That approach results in chaos, of course,” Lisa said.
He groaned. Maybe she was showing her worst side, hoping his mother would talk Joe out of seeing her, declaring Lisa unfit. Or just insane.
“Chaos?” His mother’s chill tone brought autumn to the room. He glanced at the nearby plants, watching for them to wither.
Lisa nodded. “Absolutely. Orchids and roses fighting for space, mixing their perfumes until it smelled like a funeral parlor—”
He choked, barely hearing his mother’s gasp over the piano music in the background. His dad surveyed the nearby food tables, clearly not interested in flower arrangements and oblivious to the byplay.
“And obscuring their individual perfection. But—” Lisa’s voice rose with what Joe took for enthusiasm “—you’ve utilized the color scheme, while preserving the distinctiveness of each species. Tea roses and old-fashioneds complement each other, and separating them by shade only emphasizes their individual characters.”
Joe debated kicking her ankle. Had Lisa lost her mind? It hardly mattered that his mother was warming to her continued—and continued and continued—praise. He had to get her away. He observed her pinkened cheeks and bright eyes and finally noticed what had escaped him before.
Lisa wasn’t breathing.
She’d barely taken a breath since she started. In a minute he’d have to scoop her off the floor from a light-headed faint. He no longer wanted to kick her ankle, although he might have to pound her on the back to get her to inhale. The tightness in his chest eased. She was only nervous, not trying to sabotage his plan.
“Well,” he cut in, “we all agree with you, honey.” He saw her start of surprise, and—finally, thankfully—heard her gulp in air. “When Mom does something, she does it right.”
“That’s what I was trying to say,” Lisa said.
“I think I prefer her way of saying it,” his mother said. “Much more effusive.”
They all laughed.
“That’s my girl.” He leaned in to kiss Lisa’s cheek.
She jumped back with wide eyes. His mother’s mouth pursed. Slowly her narrowed gaze moved to Joe, connecting with his and sending a message.
Joe read her doubt all too clearly.
Lisa put her hand on his chest and peeked up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m just so jittery.” She glanced at his parents, focusing on his dad. “I babble when I’m nervous, as you now know. Catering this event is so important to my business. I get dizzy thinking of the potential jobs I could book from all these people.”
“Not to mention meeting us,” his dad said. His friendliness relieved the tension among their group.
Lisa giggled. “Well, I wasn’t going to mention that, but it is pretty scary, trying to win the parents’ approval at the same time as the rest of this.” She squinted toward Joe’s mother. “No wonder I have a migraine.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” His mother tapped his dad’s arm. “Go get my purse.”
She turned back to Lisa as he left. “I have something that works wonders. I don’t usually approve of taking medications, but look who I have to put up with.”
“Humph.” Joe acted offended, but he felt relieved. They’d discovered common ground, even if it was a headache. A woman approached his mom, who stepped away to listen to the lady’s deafening praise for the event.
Lisa pivoted toward him and whispered, “I should have taken you up on your offer.”
He frowned. His offer? “You already have my company’s catering job. I’m really impressed with your work here tonight.”
“No, your other offer.” She leaned closer. “The kiss.”
He blinked, then laughed as her color heightened. “It’s not too late.” He slid his arm down to her waist again and reeled her in flush against his body.
“Joe,” Lisa hissed with a look over her shoulder at his mom. “We can’t kiss here, in front of everybody.”
“Sure we can. What would be more convincing?”
She tried to wriggle free.
“Oooh, keep it up. I like it.”
She jabbed his ribs with her fist. He laughed and let her scoot back an inch.
“I have to go,” his mother said, eyeing them. “Duty calls. It was lovely meeting you.”
“And you,” Lisa returned faintly. As soon as his mother moved out of earshot, she groaned. “That was awful.”
He looked down at her in surprise. “I thought it went pretty well.” He laughed at her expression. “After you stopped talking, anyway.”
“I think she saw us, you know, just now.”
“Yeah.” He frowned and rubbed his side. “Poking me won’t make a very good impression.”
She glared. “I meant that ‘oooh, keep it up’ nonsense.”
“Lighten up. I doubt my mother thinks I’m a virgin.”
Lisa glanced around frantically. “Would you please lower your voice? You might have told her I have kids, but she doesn’t know whether I’m—” she moved close to whisper against his ear “—sexually active.”
“Are you?” This sounded promising. And as oddly unsettling as her breath against his neck. He didn’t like to think of her having sex with her dates, but he’d like to benefit from it if she did. The curious contradiction of his feelings bewildered him.
“Joe.” She rubbed her temple. “You’re exasperating.”
“You can point out my personality flaws later. While we’re practicing that kiss.”
“I have work to do.” She turned toward a serving table.
He followed. “When you’re done, I’ll take you home.”
“I brought my own car, remember?”
“Lisa.” He stopped her retreat by clasping her arm. “You know it’s a good idea. Consider what a fiasco tonight could have been, with you jumping away from me.” Remorse flashed in her eyes. With a little persuasion, he’d taste her sweetness by midnight. He should feel guilty, but healthy male interest squashed any chance of that. “I’ll help you do dishes.”
Lisa’s mouth turned up in a reluctant smile. She glanced toward the loaded dessert table. “I accept.”
The shrill tapping of silverware on glass made them turn.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please.” A dark-haired woman in a long, glittering aqua dress smiled from behind a microphone, setting aside the fork and goblet she’d used to gain notice. A small presentation area had been set up on a wooden stage two feet above the main floor. As the chatter died down, she continued, “I think we can all agree that tonight has been a tremendous success.”