The night of the day Nick fake-proposed to me, my parents called as if they knew I had something to tell them. I had only just finished closing up the store and was about to head out for a walk with Betty when the phone rang. The dog shot me a sad look, as though she knew her evening exercise was going to be delayed. Then the old lady flopped on my couch and wearily closed her eyes.

She was right; I really shouldn’t let my parents interrupt our routine. I had to play nice with them, though. At least for as long as their name was still on the deed for the store’s building.

“Tall Tales Bookstore, Oceanport. How might I help you?” I answered the phone only because I knew it would annoy my mother.

“Quit that,” she demanded. “Even you can’t be at work all day.”

Try me. “Oh, Mother, I didn’t know it was you. How delightful to hear your voice.”

“You can cut that out too.”

Wasn’t I allowed to have any fun?

“Your sister told me how obstinate you're being over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“I'm not being—”

“Surely you're not thinking this through,” my mother went on talking, ignoring all interjections. Sometimes I wondered whether she would have been happier had I never learned how to speak at all. But no, nothing could make her happy. I should know; I tried. “You must know that we still own the building your beloved store is in.”

“I'm very well aware.” How could I not be, when it was pointed out to me at every turn? The worst part was that I had more than enough money to buy them out. They simply refused to sell. It was maddening. Could I have looked for another property and moved my store? Sure, but this was grandma's store. I wasn't just going to abandon her legacy because her daughter was being difficult.

“Honestly, I don't know why you like that dusty store so much,” my mother said. “If you weren't spending all your time in there, I'm sure you would have found yourself a mate by now.”

“Did it ever occur to you that finding a mate might not be everyone's highest priority?”

“Nonsense.” Even though I couldn't see my mother, I knew she was waving me off with manicured fingernails. “You're an alpha like me, dear. You're biologically wired to seek your mate and as your mother it is my top priority to ensure your happiness.”

She had a funny way of going about that. “I'd be happy if you sold me the store.”

“Please, Alexander, do we need to have this discussion again?”

“Apparently so.” If she thought I was going to give up, she was sadly mistaken. I might not be the most typical alpha in existence, but I could be stubborn. I would not rest before this store was truly mine in every sense of the word.

She sighed. “That is not why I called. I'm sure your sister told you about the young lady your father and I would like you to meet Thursday night.”

A young lady, huh? Knowing my parents, she was sure to be omega too. Internally I sighed. Did my parents really not understand that I didn't want to raise an army of children? I would make a horrible parent. The house could go up in flames around me while I was reading and I'd never even notice. “I'm afraid that's not going to work,” I told my mother. “I'm bringing someone. Contrary to what you believe, I don't spend my whole life in my store.” As much as I wished I could.

“You're bringing someone?” I imagined my mother's eyes jumping out of their sockets.

“Indeed I am. So you see how this might be an inappropriate time to introduce me to someone new? The poor girl would be embarrassed. You should cancel those plans.”

“Alexander Cornelius Kerner, you better not be trying to pull something on me.”

I smirked, glad she couldn’t see me. Finally, I was one step ahead of my parents. It was surreal. This whole day could have been lifted straight out of one of my novels, honestly.

“Please, Mother, you've raised me better than that,” I said only because I knew she would believe it.

“Tell me about your date,” she demanded. “Why have you never told me about this person before? Honestly, you have no consideration for the amount of work it took me to find you an appropriate date for this dinner.”

I grimaced.

Don't snap at her now. I was so close to getting her out of my hair about this. “It's all still a bit new,” I informed her. “Although, not exactly new I suppose...You know them.”

“I do?” My mother's voice went into a higher pitch. She was clearly intrigued—and believing my story. Well, I wasn't an author for nothing. If I couldn't spin a believable romance I would never have seen success.

“You remember the boy I used to play with as a child? Nicholas Kramer?” I was glad this was a phone call and my mother couldn't see the wide grin on my face. I knew a part of her was worried I'd be ending up with Nick even back then.

“Oh, I remember all those Kramer children.” My mother wasn't even trying to hide the note of disdain in her voice. Funny how she could judge another family for having a ton of children when it seemed like that was exactly what she wanted for me too. “You're dating this Nicholas kid?” she asked. “I remember him too.” Her tone was carefully guarded now. “Has he grown up at all?”

“A little,” I said, unable to keep the grin on my face from shining through in my voice. Nick had certainly grown up physically. He'd grown into a very handsome young man.

My mother sighed. “I expect the two of you to be here at seven Thursday night.”

“We'll be there.”

Before my mother could say anything else, someone rang the door downstairs. Perfect timing. I was ready to end this call anyway. “Sorry, Mother. Someone's at the door. I have to go see who it is.” Before she could protest, I hung up.

When I went down, I was greeted by my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Fawnston, the handy lady who owned the arts supply store next to Tall Tales. “Terribly sorry to disturb you,” my middle-aged neighbor said. “I was supposed to get a delivery today, but I was out on a short errand earlier. Is there any chance they dropped it off with you?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't get anything.”

“Oh, that's too bad. I was going to make a batch of new candles tomorrow. Now I'll have to call there again and ask where my wax is.” She shook her head. “Oh well, I won't disturb you any longer.”

“You're not disturbing me. Quite the opposite, actually. You got me off my phone with my mother.”

Mrs. Fawnston shot me a mildly disapproving look. “Be nice to your mother, Zander. I wish my children would call me more often.”

“Your children actually have a mother, though. All I have is a matriarch.”

“I'm sure it's not that bad.”

“Yeah, it is.” A shuffling noise from behind me made me look at the stairs. Betty had come down, her leash in her mouth and an expectant look on her face. I had to laugh. Betty was never going to let me forget her evening exercise.

“Looks like you need to go,” Mrs. Fawnston pointed out. “But before I forget, I finished reading your book. It was lovely, as always. We should have a chat about it sometime this week.”

“Absolutely!” Mrs. Fawnston was an avid reader—which was perhaps why I liked her. She was also one of the few people who had figured out my pen name. I'd been giving her my books for early feedback ever since. As I walked her walk back to her store, I wondered what she might say if I told her I was about to do the same thing my characters did in my latest book—enter a fake relationship.

Responsible adult that she was, she'd probably tell me that it was a bad idea.

I knew that it was. For some reason, though, I just didn't care. I'd get to spend more time with Nick.

How bad could that be?