Page 34 of Not That Into You

The front door opens, and my mother steps out.

I glance at Monica and try for a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

“Sure.” Her gaze doesn’t waver from the woman on the porch whose hands are on her hips.

“Fake it till you make it.” I pick up Monica’s hand and drop a kiss on her knuckles.

She finally looks at me, eyes wide, before lifting a brow. “How charming.”

“Prince Charming to you.”

She sighs, and I bite back a grin as I turn to get out of the Jeep. I round the hood, but before I can reach Monica’s door, she’s already opened it and stepped out. I grab her hand and interlace our fingers before turning to face my mother.

“You’re late.”

I swallow a sigh and walk forward, pulling Monica along with me as I climb the steps and drop a kiss on my mother’s cheek. “Hello, Mother.” I put an arm around Monica. “This is Monica.”

My mother narrows her eyes.

Monica extends her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Stanhope.”

I almost do a double take at Monica’s polite tone.

My mother shakes her hand. “I’m glad to finally meet you.” She motions us inside. “Leave your bags. Rick will get them and bring them to your room.” She glances at my Jeep. “And he’ll move your car.”

I hand over my car keys, knowing better than to argue.

We pause in the foyer, which opens into the two-story living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out on the pool and beach beyond.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Stanhope.”

My eyes widen as I look at Monica in disbelief and mouth, You have a lovely home? Who is this person with the deferential manners and pleasant demeanor?

When my mother turns to give Rick my keys, Monica glares at me and elbows me in the side.

I smile. There she is.

In a whisper, I say, “You had me worried there for a moment. I was afraid I’d entered the Twilight Zone.”

She makes a move to pinch me, but anticipating her, I move out of the way, so she only gets my shirt.

“Jackass,” she mutters under her breath.

“Cameron.”

Monica and I both straighten and look at my mother. I raise my brows and paste on an innocent smile.

“I trust you know your way to your room?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Her eyes land on Monica. “Why don’t you both freshen up? We’ve already started cocktails. You can meet us on the patio.”

My mother sweeps out of the room as I hook my arm through Monica’s and lead her to the stairs.

“Did your mother just imply I look like a scrub?”

Maybe. “No.”

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