By the time my mother pulls me away, I’m having the best night of my life. Archer is the perfect date, attentive, amusing, and sober. He’s polite to my family without fawning over my sisters, he’s charming with my parents’ friends and associates, and I have to admit, I’m enjoying the envious glances I’m getting from women around the room.

How did SHE end up with HIM? I can almost hear them thinking.

Okay, it’s shallow … but I like it.

My mother pulls me a few steps away from Archer and Aunt Mila. I don’t want to leave him with her for too long; since Uncle Stewart died, she’s had a reputation for hitting on younger guys, and I don’t want him to be uncomfortable.

“Archer seems like a very nice young man,” my mother says in a low voice.

“He is, isn’t he?” I say, pleased that he’s making a good impression. This had been an expensive evening, but the chance to spend it with a handsome man who makes me feel this special has been worth it. Even though it’s all pretend, it’s given me a much-need boost of confidence. Now that people are seeing me as the kind of girl who can get a guy like that, I feel almost as if I could be. “I’m glad you like him.”

She gazes over at Archer, who is smiling graciously as Aunt Mila talks about something. “He looks so familiar …”

“That’s because you met him yesterday.” I give her a cheeky smile, and she rolls her eyes at me. “Kidding. Maybe you’ve seen him in one of his commercials or something.”

My mother’s eyes narrow. She’s not much of a television watcher, so that seems unlikely, but who knows. She shrugs lightly. “He’s made a good impression on your father, too,” she adds.

My smile grows wider. My dad has notoriously high standards for the men his daughters date. None of them have ever truly been good enough for any of us.

But pleased as I am that this is going well, I don’t want anyone—myself least of all—getting carried away.

“Well, don’t get too attached,” I say, keeping my voice light. “It’s not all that serious yet.”

My mom gives me a sly look. “Oh, I don’t know … I see the way he looks at you. I think he’s quite smitten.”

This makes me a little uncomfortable. Up until now, I’ve been enjoying my little game of pretend, but allowing my mother to think he’s truly in love with me feels a little like lying to her.

“He’s very sweet,” I say vaguely.

Then my mother drops a bombshell.

“Your dad and I were just talking about inviting him up to the lake house with us.” My mother looks at me hopefully. “Would you like that?”

I freeze. I hadn’t been expecting this at all. My heart rate kicks up and my mind races to think of something to say.

My first thought: I can’t afford Archer for an entire vacation!

My second: I wish I could because a vacation with Archer would be dreamy.

My third: These thoughts are not going anywhere helpful.

I collect myself enough to reply to my mother.

“Oh, gosh, Mom …” I stammer, “I’m not sure if we’re really at that stage in our relationship …”

I’m thinking of the stage at which you can bring your boyfriend to spend several days with your family, but she mistakes my pink cheeks for a different kind of embarrassment.

“If you’re not ready to share a room, you could sleep separately, of course,” she says. “There’s plenty of space. Though you could share if you wanted,” she adds quickly. “You’re an adult now, so that’s between you and Archer.”

My blush deepens. No, I’m not ready to share a room with Archer—and I’m really not ready to have my mother wondering whether or not we’re having sex. She must want grandchildren even more than I realized if she’s this eager to get me and Archer in bed together.

Telling her not to invite him would be the most sensible thing to do, but I’m afraid it will give the game away if I’m not at least a little excited at the idea of bringing him along. For a wild moment, I contemplate blowing my life savings plus taking out a loan to secure his services for the four days we’re up at the lake … then common sense reasserts itself.

Archer won’t say yes. He’s much too professional. And he’s a great actor. He’ll pretend to be flattered and come up with some sensible excuse, and that will be that.

“That’s really sweet of you, Mom,” I say, feeling like I’m in control of the situation again. “You can certainly ask him. I’m sure he’d be happy to be asked. But don’t count on him saying yes. He’s really busy with auditions and stuff.”

It occurs to me that and stuff might include other companion Gentlemen gigs, which prompts a completely irrational surge of jealousy. I've hired him, for crying out loud. It’s like being jealous of someone who checks out a library book after you’ve returned it.

“Well, let’s give it a try,” says Mom. “Your dad and I would like to get to know him better, and I hate the thought of taking you away from him right at the beginning of your vacation.”

With a trace of bitterness, I wonder if my mother thinks Archer might just forget about me if I’m gone for a few days, and I have to remind myself—again—that this is all pretend anyway.

Archer will say no.

A few weeks from now, I’ll casually mention to my family that I’ve decided things weren’t going to work out with Archer anyway; I won’t be even a little bit heartbroken about it, and things will be back to normal—except that now my family won’t feel sorry for poor never-has-a-date Annabelle.

Mom smiles at me. “Come on, let’s get you back to that man of yours.”

She sweeps back toward Archer just as Aunt Mila is walking away from him. He’s frowning slightly, which makes me wonder if she crossed some line, but he quickly rearranges his expression into a charming smile at the sight of us.

“Archer, we wanted to ask you something,” my mother begins. “Annabelle may have told you that we have a vacation house up in San Luis Obispo County, and we’ll be going up there tomorrow.”

I have not mentioned this to Archer, but to his credit, he nods. “Yes, I’m sorry you’re taking her away from me, but I’m looking forward to getting her back when you’re done.”

My smile gets a little tight. A few minutes ago, I would have eaten a line like that up, but now it feels like he’s laying it on a little thick.

My mother presses on. “Well, we were actually just wondering if you’d like to join us? We'll be going up tomorrow and coming back on Monday. Maybe you and Annabelle would like to drive up together?”

Archer blinks, and for the first time, he seems at a loss for words. I pray that his acting skills don’t desert him now.

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Winter.” He looks like he’s stalling for time while he figures out how to get out of this. “Is it just your family? I don’t want to intrude …”

Mom shakes her head. “Just me and Nick and the girls, but honestly, you’d help keep us entertained. We’d love to have you.”

“Don’t worry if you can’t make it,” I say, putting a reassuring smile on my face. “I know it’s short notice and you’re really busy—”

“Oh, no,” he says. “I’m not busy at all. Thank you so much, Mrs. Winter. I’d love to come.”