I’m in shock.

The man I’ve been seeing off and on as a casual hookup just told my tough-as-nails lawyer Mom that I’m. His. Girlfriend.

What the hell?

I never saw that coming.

But my mother’s reaction throws me further off my game. She seamlessly redirects the subject to that of our intended meeting. It’s almost as though she doesn’t think it’s a big deal that Liam just said I’m his girlfriend.

Did he really do that?

I’m in utter disbelief, even as Mom starts in on the executive summary and whips through the paperwork, answering all of Mr. O’Sullivan’s questions. Thankful doesn’t cover the layers of feelings or the tidal wave of other emotions that confound my mind and control my body. Hell, the room is almost icy from the air conditioning, but there’s a thin film of sweat between my breasts and on my forehead under my long bangs.

“Everything sounds promising,” Mr. O’Sullivan croons with satisfaction in his mild Irish accent.

Mom nods. “The Cromley hotel chain is smooth sailing. They’ve been around for decades and moves with trends, which shows from their numbers. It’s not easy to be in the black within five years of an IPO.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Mr. O’Sullivan agrees.

Mom closes her folder and relaxes into her chair. “I’ll have Vanessa keep an eye on the Wainwright Group. They’re in good shape, but I won’t lie. There’s been rumblings of shaky finances and a reorganization. We’ll need to press them for definitive answers on how much of a shakeup they’re looking at before going forward. The last thing we need is for them to make changes that impact your bottom line. But not to worry. We’re on it.”

“Perfect, and agreed.”

“Tell me something, Craig. What kind of contingencies do you have in place for the transition? Taking on the operations of close to five hundred facilities across twenty US states is a massive undertaking. Are you comfortable with just twelve months of lead time?”

Mr. O’Sullivan nods confidently. “I’m certain of it. We have that many pubs across the home country. All the locations are operational already. The plan is to have three waves of launches, including facility leasehold improvements where needed, and mirroring the timelines for nation-wide recruitment, onboarding, and training. I agree it’s a lot to commit to at one time. But there are years of experience under our belts. I’m confident we’ll make it happen.”

“Great. In the meantime, I’ll keep nudging them for updates. I’d prefer to hold out for official word on their strategic direction, but we’ll take the deal as far as it’ll go for now.” She pushes back her chair slightly and turns to me. “How about you schedule a longer meeting this week to run through the noteworthy points from the seller’s fine print, Vanessa?”

“That sounds like an excellent plan, Diane,” I reply and can hear the gratitude in my voice. If we weren’t on such strained terms, I’d want to hug her.

“My daughter learned she’d run point on this file this morning. Give her a couple of days to research the details, and you won’t be able to hold her back.”

“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, then,” Mr. O’Sullivan replies eagerly. I’m not too keen on any comment that suggests my mother and I have much in common. I don’t want to be anything like her. But for the sake of ending the meeting five minutes early and sparing me five minutes of tripping over every word, I smile and nod.

A few more handshakes are exchanged—as well as another blatant PDA from Liam to me—and the meeting comes to an end. My mother makes small talk with Mr. O’Sullivan while I trail behind her with Liam at my side. I can’t wait much longer to get away from the group, but while he’s here, Liam needs to explain himself.

“Can we have a quick word in my office?” I ask him on the way to the elevator bay.

His uncle glances back and tells us he’ll use the time to make a few calls. Perfect. As Liam has his arm around my shoulder, I turn the last bend and cut across the reception area to give him a piece of my mind in my tiny office. The shock has had time to morph into a bit of curiosity and a substantial amount of anger, and now that we’ll have a moment alone, I can vent.

“What the hell was that?” I demand the instant my office door closes. I whip around to face him. “Your girlfriend? Seriously? I can’t even… you need to explain yourself.”

“What’s there to explain? I said it, and I’m not apologizing for it.”

“How could you do that without giving me a heads-up?”

“The same way you could believe we can maintain the status quo beyond four years.”

“You don’t mean that. We have an understanding. I thought we did.”

“Things change.”

“And that’s why I like to keep things casual in my personal life. Do you understand that it was perfectly private until you went and told my mother, of all people, about us? And a relationship? Late night sex sessions and a few texts here and there to check in on each other doesn’t make a relationship, or anything remotely close to dating.”

“You need this as much as I want it.” He rests his hands on my shoulders.

“Oh, so you know what I need now,” I mutter.

He takes a step toward me and lowers his lips to my ear. “Always have. This move isn’t any different.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

He kisses the spot along my neck that he knows can spark my arousal. “Don’t make me prove it right here on your desk… Maybe that’s why you asked me in here.”

“My love life isn’t a game, Liam,” I bark and try to shove him away but he barely budges. And if I’m being honest, being this close to my fake boyfriend has a way of unleashing the dirtiest thoughts in my head.

“You can always break it off,” he tells me, with a chuckle.

“Oh great. A fake breakup from your fake girlfriend. That’s classic.”

“You’re not my fake girlfriend,” he remarks.

“What would you call it? Maybe ‘forced’ girlfriend is a better label.”

“Hmmm. I’d refer to it as strongly encouraged. From more casual to more…involved. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“Give it a few days. You’ll be thanking me.”

“Why the hell for?”

“Just a hunch.”

I point a shaky finger toward my door. “Get the hell out of my office. Your fake girlfriend has real work to do.”

* * *

The bomb Liam drops has turned my brain to a distracted mush. It takes me twice as long to do anything, and before I know it, my phone buzzes with a text from my best friend, Cherry.

I have to tell her what just went down, but this text that comes in is a group message to me, Dahlia, Rosa, and Emily.

No one replies for a solid five minutes. Yeah, they should be shocked.

Now that I’ve got them all worked up, I mute the volume of my text notifications and slip my phone back into my purse. They didn’t freak out, but then again, it’s my life that Liam just ruined with those three words, not theirs.