Chapter 12 - Naomi
“Your mother is here?!” I whisper as my eyes widen. I glance towards the door again and back at Max. “Why is your mother here?”
“Max, open up!” A gruff voice comes through the door.
“And your father is here too?!”
“Oh my god,” Max says, running his hands through his dark hair. He blows air out of his mouth as concern etches all over his face. “I’m so sorry. They said they were coming to the city, I didn’t think they meant today.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“I’m so sorry.”
I would laugh if I wasn’t so mortified. I look down at my grey tee-shirt and ripped jeans. I’m not wearing any makeup, and I know my hair could use a brush.
And now, I have to meet one of the richest couples in New York City, and I have to pretend to be engaged to their son?
I thought my day was bad before. I woke up with a hangover, and then got Max’s bizarre proposal. When my mom told me that she had breast cancer, I thought that was as bad as it got.
I was wrong.
It just got worse. I watch Max rub his hands over his face. His forearms ripple with tension as he combs his hair back through his fingers, staring at the door as if he was afraid of what was on the other side.
I stand up and put my hands on his biceps, feeling the hard muscle under his skin as he drops his hands.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I had no idea.”
“It’s okay,” I lie, forcing myself to smile. “Do I look okay?”
His eyes soften and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look perfect.”
My heart squeezes and I swallow. I don’t know what all these emotions are. I don’t know how to deal with the alternating waves of desire and fear and nervousness that attack me every time I take a breath. All I can do is just follow Max towards the door, wringing my hands in front of me as he turns the doorknob.
“Hey, Mom,” he says and leans down to lay a kiss on her cheek. When he stands back up, I get the first glimpse of my soon-to-be fake mother-in-law.
She looks like a Stepford Wife mixed with a First Lady. Her hair is dyed a sandy blonde color, tied back in an ultra-neat bun at the base of her neck. She’s wearing a perfectly pressed navy pantsuit, with an expensive-looking bag slung over her forearm. Her hands are manicured, with an array of sparkling rings displayed on her digits.
But it’s her face that draws my attention. She has Max’s eyes—bright and blue and deep and unreadable. They’re focused on me, inspecting every inch of me as she steps through the door. Her heels click on the hardwood floor as she opens her arms towards me. She takes my hands in hers, squeezing them gently as she holds them out, blatantly looking me up and down.
“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” she says, not looking sorry at all. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Max?”
Max shuffles to my side, putting an arm around my shoulders. Thankfully, his mother releases me and I put my arm around his waist. It feels stiff and uncomfortable. I can’t imagine we look like a happy couple.
“Mom, Dad, this is Naomi. Naomi, this is my mom, Carol, and my dad, Rudy.”
“Nice to meet you,” I croak.
“Lovely to meet you, dear,” Carol croons. Her eyes are still watching me like a hawk, and Max’s hand tightens across my shoulders.
I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I clear my throat and nod to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Water? Beer? Coffee?”
“Coffee sounds good,” Rudy says, shuffling towards the living room after he shakes my hand. “Thanks, Naomi.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when I watch them walk towards the couch. That relief quickly turns to panic when I enter the kitchen.
I don’t know where anything is!
I’m supposed to be marrying Max, and I have no idea how to make coffee at his house. Where are the filters? Where are the coffee grounds? Where are the mugs?
Where is the freaking coffee machine?! He’d better not have one of those stupid percolators. I don’t think I can handle that right now.
My heart starts hammering in my chest as I glance around. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see his coffee machine with a little basket of pods next to it—single serving coffee. At least I won’t have to worry about filters and coffee grounds.
I look through the basket and then call to them over my shoulder. “You guys want ‘Intenso’, ‘Luongo Forte’ or, uh, decaf?” Why don’t these pods have normal freaking names?!
“I’ll have decaf, dear,” his mother says, watching me from the couch. “And Rudy will have the same.”
“Max?” Should I be calling him babe? Honey? Baby? I barely even know the guy! Am I being weird right now? Can they see how much I’m panicking? I turn towards them and wince when my hip hits the marble countertop of the island. I force a smile, and I’m pretty sure it just looks like my face is contorting weirdly.
“I’m good,” Max says, shuffling some magazines and tidying a blanket that was strewn across the couch. He looks as stressed as I feel.
“Okay,” I say under my breath. Now for mugs. Logically, they would be right above the coffee machine.
Nope.
Maybe the next cupboard over?
Nope.
I cough, trying to clear the lump in my throat as I open a third cupboard.
Still nothing.
I can feel Max’s mom’s eyes on my back. My heart is hammering. Where is Max? Why isn’t he helping me? I never knew making a cup of coffee could induce so much panic. I’m be looking through every single cupboard in this godforsaken kitchen looking for a mug to make coffee for my fake fiancé’s mother, and she’ll figure out that I’ve never been here before, and the whole gig will be up.
We won’t pretend to be engaged, I won’t get any money, and I won’t be able to pay for my mom’s treatment.
All because the stupid freaking mugs aren’t where they are supposed to be, which is above the freaking coffee machine. What kind of monster stores the mugs on the other end of the kitchen?! I would never marry someone like that.
This is a disaster.
Finally, I open a wide drawer under the coffee machine and see the mugs neatly lined up. I sigh so loudly, I’m pretty sure they all hear me.
“Having trouble finding something?” Carol says. I glance over and see her eyebrow arched over her piercing blue eyes.
I laugh nervously. “I always do that. My kitchen at home has the mugs up top.” I gesture awkwardly to the cabinets as a blush spreads from my cheeks to my neck. I scratch the back of my head, trying to smile.
“Ah,” she says, nodding. Her eyes don’t leave me. Max mouths ‘sorry’, and comes towards me.
With him beside me, I start to relax. He puts his hand on the small of my back and shows me how to work the machine.
“Everything will be fine,” he whispers in my ear. “Thank you for doing this.”
“I think the price just went up to three hundred grand. It’s the price for surprise visits from in-laws. I need at least 48 hours notice from now on.”
The corner of his lip twitches, and his chin dips down. “That seems fair,” he chuckles. The machine rumbles to life and black coffee starts spluttering into the cup. I take a deep breath.
Max leans over and kisses my temple, sliding his hand over to my hip and pulling me into him. I close my eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent and letting the comfort of his touch wash over me.
“I’ll get rid of them as soon as I can,” he whispers as we make another cup of coffee.
I nod. It can’t be soon enough.