Page 9 of The Wedding Hoax

“Whatever you’re in the mood for, Mom.”

“You know you don’t have to do that.” She sighed. “Cater to me like this because of… the accident. I’m still your mom. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Because of the accident.

I winced away from the memory, even though it played as clear as day in my head.

Nine years ago, my parents had been in a horrific car wreck. My dad had been instantly killed by the impact, while my mom fought for her life at the hospital. A few weeks later, she was released, but she wasn’t the same.

The accident had not only taken her husband, it’d taken the use of her legs, too. She’d been paralyzed from the waist down ever since, even though she pretended like nothing much had changed. She was keeping a brave face for me, despite all the pain.

And I tried to do the same. “I’m not catering to you because of the accident, Mom. I’m just not particular about my pasta sauces.”

“Liar.” She chuckled as she handed me a black pepper shaker. “Smells like it could use more seasoning.”

“Hey! Back off, lady,” I joked. “Two chefs is too many chefs in the kitchen.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” My mother squinted, like she was trying to get a better view of the pan. “How was your first day of work at your new job, Simi?”

“Good. Until Taylor bamboozled me into having drinks with the boss.”

“Oh? Is your boss nice?”

“Nice?” I took the salt my mom was handing to me as I spoke. “I wouldn’t say he’s nice. He’s maybe Jerk Lite? Still, he did buy me a drink. But he won’t apologize for trying to cut in front of me for coffee this morning. And he doesn’t seem to appreciate how lucky he is when it comes to being born rich, which is annoying for an entirely different reason—”

“Uh-oh.”

“What? Did I put too much salt in the pan?” I panicked, moving my hand away from the stove.

“You’re talking about him a lot. When all I asked was a simple question.” My mom shook her head. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That I’m giving him way too much of my headspace when I should be focused on making dinner?”

“That you like him.”

“Absolutely not!” I shot back. “Mom, he’s not my type. At all. He’s basically a trust fund rich kid who lucked into running a company. And even if he was my type, Taylor says he’s obsessed with LA Now, which means he wouldn’t have time for a relationship, anyway—”

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through,” my mom muttered.

“Go! Out of the kitchen!” Flustered, I motioned for her to leave. “I’ll bring you dinner when it’s all done!”

“It’s okay for you to have fun sometimes, Simone.” She smiled. “Things don’t always have to be so serious.”

I smiled back at her. “I know, Mom. Seriously, though. I need to finish up this pasta so we can actually eat something tonight.”

“Or we can just order out…”

“Mom!” I pretended to be wildly upset, as I threw my hands up in the air. “Are you suggesting that I’m not the best cook in all of Los Angeles?!”

“You know what? You’re right. I believe in you, Simi.” My mom chuckled as she turned her wheelchair around, heading out of the kitchen. “Besides, all the good restaurants are closed by now, anyway.”

4

HARRY

I’d been thinking about her all night.

I couldn’t have stopped even if I tried. She was stuck in my head like a way-too-catchy song, despite my best efforts to get her out of my mind.

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