Page 43 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
"I'm not leaving him," Jenna says, with just enough firmness and eye contact to make it clear that that was a statement, not a plea.
"We'll be the judge of that." My mother narrows her eyes at the challenge.
The gauntlet is thrown.
Usually, my father is the harder one to persuade, mostly because my previous dates, apart from Marina, have been the type of high society women my mother likes.
But today, my mother's the disapproving one while my father seems not to be taking this whole thing seriously. That's the part that makes me worried.
Does he know it's fake? Are we not acting convincingly enough?
Maybe I need to be more affectionate.
I take Jenna's hand, brushing a kiss over her hair, closing my eyes to inhale the scent she's wearing. I don't recognize it, but it's delicate, floral, with overtones of amber and silk. It suits her.
God, the things that scent does to me…
I force myself away from her and hear myself saying, "Well, shall we go for breakfast?"
I lead Jenna into the dining room, where a table has been laid for four people, and I pull out a chair for her, before taking my own seat opposite, Father on my left and Jenna's right, Mother the opposite side of us, acting all stiff, upright, and disapproving.
As the servants bring our first course—a delicious fruit salad accompanied by miniature croissants—and pour coffee for us, my mother keeps glaring at Jenna like she's trying to will her to burst into flames.
Jenna, for her part, looks unfazed, playing it cool.
"What a lovely home you have," she says, smiling widely at my mother, then she gestures to a large oil on canvas painting in a huge gilt frame, hanging above the fireplace. "Is that a Pareja? It must be worth a fortune!"
"You know who Pareja is?" My mother asks.
"Of course. Art history is one of the topics I find fascinating, especially paintings from that era. If that's a Pareja, then I'm even more impressed. He's a truly underrated painter."
My mother straightens haughtily. "Well, I've always thought the same. The painting was a gift from her Royal Highness the Prince of Liechtenstein, during our visit to the palace some summers ago."
"Wow." Jenna's eyes widen like she's impressed. "I've always wanted to go there. Is the castle as beautiful as they say?"
"Yes," my mother says. "Truly, and the grass is so green, so much wonderful nature—the rivers and forests… and His Highness took us to his private gallery for a very enriching experience." This leads my mother to list every painting she saw there, regurgitating for us the story behind each piece. Jenna listens intently, her expression appears fascinated, and she asks all the right questions. She's clearly a skilled conversationalist.
With anyone else, I'm pretty sure she would have charmed them already.
But my parents aren't quite so easy to please, and my father breaks into the conversation with his own question.
"How do you plan on balancing a family with a job?" he asks. Jenna hardly hesitates, just wipes the corner of her mouth delicately with her napkin, fixes my father with her most honest gaze, and launches into her reply.
"Well, my work is important to me, so I don't see myself giving that up," Jenna says. "I will, of course, cut down on my hours and delegate more. Perhaps I will take on a business partner who can handle most of the everyday running of things while I spend time with my children, especially during those formative years."
Nice response, I think to myself. Bringing in the children motif too… very clever. She's a natural at this. But Mother's not admitted defeat yet. There's plenty of fight still left in her.
"Children need their mother for far longer than that," my mom says disdainfully. "Any woman who doesn't plan to be around and make the necessary sacrifices for them shouldn't have them in the first place."
I can tell that gets to Jenna. Her eyes twitch, and her hand, the one on her lap, squeezes into a fist.
I reach over and fold my hand over hers.
"Thank you for your advice, I'll certainly take that into consideration," she says.
My mother harrumphs and nods.
Jenna checks her watch, putting down her fork. "Actually, speaking of work, I do have a work meeting in a few minutes, so I'll have to take off. It was nice meeting the two of you."
