Page 24 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

The itinerary, which included suggestions on the wardrobe, had informed me that there would be some walking today, along with the possibility of getting dirty.

So I’d gone casual with a cute dress that was easy to move in, along with appropriate footwear.

Apparently, for Natalie’s family, the only difference between the semi-formal dress code from the night before and this one was a slight change in shoes and brighter colors. Natalie wore mustard, belted pants with flare legs and a plunging-necked white blouse that left exactly nothing to the imagination. I thought she’d taken her heels down an inch but hadn’t had the chance to get close enough to confirm.

The venue, an opulent hotel, reminded me of a plush Indian palace, dripping with dark woods, gold trim, red accents, and sparkly things everywhere.

The coffee and pastry bar stood in the center of a huge ballroom. An array of mismatched and eclectic tables surrounded it. The rich smell of roasted beans and herbal tea filled the air, along with the sweet, buttery scent of freshly-baked Danishes.

“Victoria!”

I winced as my mother belted my name across the room. She sat at a table with my dad, my sister, and my brother-in-law.

How had they known everyone would be dressed in clothes that could transition to a semi-formal dinner?

“Over here!” My mom waved.

Several people had turned to look and see who my mom was greeting, and now I felt like I had to go say hello. I made my way to their table and had to resist the urge to scowl as my mom’s eyes took me in from head to foot.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when her first word was “Stripes?”

“Mom!” Hannah glared. “She looks adorable.” Hannah got up and gave me a hug. My younger sister was everything I wasn’t. Tall, slender, brunette, and no matter what she wore, always picture perfect. It’s a good thing she’d come along to distract my mom with her size five body so the woman would stop harassing me to lose weight.

Plus, after she’d turned twenty, Hannah had figured out that there was more to life than being pretty.

Hannah’s husband, Dylan, gave me a nod, which I returned. I liked the guy, but we weren’t close.

My dad also rose from the table and hugged me. Where my mom wore loud colors and used her outdoor voice for everything, Dad preferred business casual in neutral tones, which went well with his salt-and-pepper black hair and olive skin. His musky cologne always made me think of his office. “How are you?” he asked.

“Good.” I gave him a smile.

His dark eyes sparkled. “Who’s this man you have coming?”

Normally, my mom and sister would have beaten him to the punch on that topic, but he’d managed to get there first. I didn’t mind telling him what Logan and I had decided on. “His name is Logan White. We met in Alaska, and he was in Vegas for a trade show this week.”

“And?” Dad prodded.

“And we decided we wanted to see each other again.”

My dad raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t get excited,” I said.

“I’m not excited,” he said in a monotone voice.

“Uh-huh.”

“When does this Logan arrive?”

“His plane landed a few minutes ago. He’ll be here in a bit.”

My mom, who’d worn her long dark hair up and sported a nice orange and yellow ensemble, stared at me. “When are you going to introduce us to this Logan?”

“Later.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to grab some coffee.” I added the next part so my mom could stew about it. “And a pastry.”

She gave me a disapproving look, which I ignored. On my way to the coffee line, my phone buzzed. I smiled when I saw the message.

Logan:Trapped in airport behind a flock of old ladies. Send help.

---