***
Later that afternoon, Molly sat on the bayside dock of The Windjammer, Turtle Beach’s one and only fine dining establishment. Much to her father’s mortification, she’d indeed brought Ursula along. The little dog was currently sitting in Max’s lap, happy as a clam, with her ears ruffled by the breeze coming off the water.
Anyone looking on would have assumed that Max was Molly’s boyfriend, given the way he’d escorted her to the table with his hand on the small of her back and was now making casual conversation with her parents while her dog kept trying to sneak bites of his shrimp scampi. But that was pretty much the whole point of this train wreck of a lunch date, wasn’t it? To make her mom and dad think they were an item?
What were theydoing?This had never been part of the plan. Molly was supposed to be coming clean with her mom and dad, not letting them fall in love with her fake boyfriend. Once her mom had jumped to the wrong conclusion, it had just been so tempting to pretend it was true—especially after Max started playing along.
But now that it was happening, now that Max was charming the socks off of her family and keeping mum about the mermaid-less state of the aquarium, Molly just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell her parents the truth in front of him. It would have been far too humiliating, particularly since he was doing such an outstanding job of pretending to care about her.
“So you really saved Max’s life, sweetheart?” Mom pressed a hand to her chest. “We just assumed you’d met at the aquarium. Never in a million years would we have guessed that you’d resuscitated him.”
“You might say she brought me back from the dead.” Max flashed Molly a wink.
She took a generous gulp of her chardonnay. “You’re exaggerating, darling. There was no resuscitation necessary.”
Definitely not. If Molly had locked lips with him in any way, shape, or form, she’d remember. She was having trouble catching her breath just imagining it.
Fake.She clutched her wine glass like it was a life preserver.This is all fake.
“Why is this the first we’re hearing about Max’s dramatic rescue?” Molly’s dad asked as he cracked open a lobster claw.
Ursula cocked her head.
“I guess it just hasn’t come up,” Molly said. Too bad their meet cute hadn’t been on the front page of theTurtle Daily.If so, her parents would have known all about it. “I don’t think the current would have gotten him, though. Max is surprisingly strong. You should see him lift a sea turtle.”
Max laughed, and the sound of it sent a shiver coursing through her. She needed to somehow steer the discussion in a less dangerous direction.
“How are things at the aquarium?” Dad dipped a forkful of lobster meat into the tiny pot of butter that sat over the flame of a votive candle next to his plate. “The last time Molly talked to us about it, she was working on ideas for fundraising.”
Also dangerous. This entire meal was a conversational minefield.
Molly started talking before Max could cut in and announce that he’d already made budget cuts roughly equal to a mermaid’s salary. “We haven’t implemented any of them yet, but I have a spreadsheet full of ideas on my laptop at home.”
Max let out a cough. “You do?”
“Of course I do, darling.” Molly turned toward her mom and dad. “Max is still new at the aquarium, obviously. He’s been busy getting up to speed so we haven’t had a chance to chat about it yet.”
Mainly because he eliminated my position before I had a chance to get a word in edgewise.Molly swallowed. She’d also engaged in a rather aggressive cupcake and bingo campaign, so perhaps she was a tiny bit to blame.
“No time like the present.” Max’s eyes met Molly’s a beat too long for two people who were only pretending to like each other. “Tell me your ideas.”
Her mouth went dry. They were really going to do this…here?Now?
“Well, for starters, I was thinking we could hold a fancy ball similar to the one the fire department has every year on the Fourth of July—only for ours, we would sell tickets to the public. Turtle Beach doesn’t have any sort of black-tie event. I’m sure the senior center would let us use their lobby free of charge, or maybe even their gym.”
Max quirked an eyebrow. “I’m familiar with the gym. Unfortunately, I can’t imagine people paying good money to dance there in tuxedos and ball gowns.”
Of course he couldn’t. The man had no imagination or sense of whimsy.
“They would after the Turtle Team and I got finished with it. We could do an Under the Sea theme with blue and green lighting, transparent balloons hanging from the ceiling to look like ocean bubbles, and jellyfish chandeliers. I actually have a mood board on Pinterest with decoration ideas. It would be beautiful.” She swallowed, feeling acutely vulnerable all of a sudden. “Romantic, even.”
She waited half a beat for Max to agree—an excruciatingly silent moment when the scrape of her parents’ silverware against their plates seemed louder than the ocean itself.
“I have other ideas, obviously,” Molly said, rushing to fill the silence, in case Max misinterpreted her comment about romance. She’d been speaking in general terms, not aboutthem. At least she thought she had. “There’s also a grant application I’ve been working on.”
Ugh, she was starting to feel like she was at a job interview…for a position that no longer existed, with the added awkwardness of her parents along for the ride.
“A grant?” Max’s forehead creased, surprise etching his features. “Really?”