Page 9 of Not That Into You

“Please?”

If he weren’t Hayley’s friend, I’d give him the finger and tell him to go back to the snake pit he crawled out of.

Actually, I’d tell him off either way, but curiosity has gotten the better of me.

“I already have a table.”

Picking up my Americano, I head back to the table I reserved with my bag and sit down without bothering to see if he’s followed. Leaning back, I cross my arms and lift my brows.

Cameron mirrors my pose and studies me. I cock my head. I don’t know what shitshow he’s directing, but I’m here as a spectator, not a participant.

He takes a deep breath. “I need your help.”

I snort. That’s not what I expected him to say. He needs my help? It must be the end of days after all. Though the thought of doing Cameron a favor and having him in my debt does have its appeal. Stifling a snicker, I resist the urge to lean in.

“My parents are having a party in the Hamptons next weekend.” He pulls at his shirt cuffs to straighten the sleeves under his suit jacket. “My mother wants to set me up with someone.” He sighs. “She always wants to set me up with someone.” He looks up at me. “I don’t want to be set up by my mother.”

“Okay.” I wouldn’t want my mother to set me up with anyone either, but this is a weird topic of conversation.

“To avoid the tedious process of trying to extricate myself from the attentions of a marriage-minded socialite, I told her I was in a relationship.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling at the visual of Cameron trying to disentangle himself from a clinging female.

“The problem is, I’m not in a relationship.”

I really couldn’t care less about Cameron’s relationship status. Where is he going with this?

“But now my mother is expecting me to show up in the Hamptons with a girlfriend in tow.”

“I can see how that would be a problem,” I say while nodding. “But I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

He blows out a breath. “My mother already thinks she knows who I’m dating.”

I glance at my watch. “Cameron, I don’t see what this has to do with me. Get to the point or let me get to work.”

“My mother thinks I’m dating you.”

My eyes bulge as I cough out a breath. “Excuse me?”

“She has requested—no, demanded—that I bring you with me to the Hamptons.”

I burst out laughing because this is clearly a joke. In what universe would Cameron’s mother demand I join them in the Hamptons? Certainly not one I’d want to live in. Especially not if it required me to be Cameron’s date.

Another wave of laughter ripples through me. We’d need a referee and our own designated corners.

“Monica, I’m serious.”

I shake my head, still chuckling. “No, you’re not.”

He frowns. “Yes, I am.”

Taking a deep, unsteady breath, I say, “You’re just fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“No.”

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