Page 58 of The Plus One Pact

I guide Ivy through the house. My fake girlfriend studies the grandeur carefully. Even though I lived here for years, I'm not used to the place. It's too big, too modern, too new money.

Too Orange County.

Quite frankly, the place doesn't suit my mother. It suited my Great Aunt, the one who married into all this money, then died and left it to my parents, along with a hefty cash inheritance. Why Mom never sold the place and moved is beyond me.

Still, it is expensive, and it's hard to miss that.

Wide windows look out on the ocean, high, flat ceilings, an angular staircase leading to an indoor balcony overlooking the massive living room.

At least the place is lived in. Adorned in the bright colors my mother prefers.

Ivy's eyes go wide as she follows my mom through the massive kitchen, to the living room. Unlike me, she clearly isn't used to spending time in twenty-million-dollar mansions. She isn't used to a taste of luxury.

"What can I get you to drink, Ivy?" Mom asks. "We have anything. Everything."

Including a bottle of scotch that costs more than my mortgage. But, hey, it was a gift. A gift that outlived my great aunt and her late husband. Neither of them drank scotch. That's why it's here.

I try to push the thought away. I try to channel the sort of thoughts Daniel would have in this situation.

The thoughts of a man who's happily committed to a woman he intends to marry. Or at least a man who's feeling good about his new relationship.

What would he say?

"Mama, don't play coy. Offer your limoncello." So, I go for flattery. So what? It works, dammit.

Mom smiles. "I don't want to be an Italian mother cliche."

"Who doesn't like limoncello?" I ask.

Mom looks to Ivy. "Are you a fan?"

"I'm not sure if I've had it," Ivy admits.

The gasp that falls from Mom's lips is loud enough to cross the Pacific. She brings her hand to her heart as she shakes her head. "Oh my, that won't do. Yes, sweetheart, three glasses. You know where it is?"

"Of course, Mama." I nod.

"What do you usually drink?" Mom asks.

"I'm afraid I'm not the most sophisticated drinker," Ivy says. "I always order a gin and tonic."

"Nonsense." Mom waves her hand in a gesture of friendly objection. "A classic is always in style. What could be more sophisticated than a little black dress?"

"When have you ever worn a black dress" I ask.

She shrugs. "I do enjoy color. Just like my Romeo. Isn't his apartment adorable?"

"You're not supposed to mention that," I say. "Daniel thinks I'm waiting for marriage."

Ivy lets out a full-throated chuckle.

Mom laughs too. "Is your girlfriend laughing because she knows your past habits? Or are you that attentive?”

"What habits?" I shrug, taking my turn playing coy. "Ivy knows there was no one before her who mattered."

"That, I do believe." Mom smiles and pats my cheek, in that maternal sort of way. Like she's about to say I'm her special guy. "Don't take him too seriously, darling. Not all experiences are important."

"I don't," Ivy says. "Well, I do, sometimes, but I like that he has a sense of humor about himself."