Chapter Seven
Piper
This isn’t happening. My mother didn’t just fork over an exuberant amount of money for some land because she thinks I’m in an actual relationship, did she? I must be dreaming.
But no matter how many times I blink or pinch myself, nothing changes. This is happening, and it’s all because of my own white lie that has now spiraled out of control.
I glance at Benson who looks shell-shocked, just staring at my mother without saying a word.
“Quite the surprise, huh?” my mother remarks with a content look on her face.
“You really bought the land?” I ask, still in disbelief.
She nods. “I’m in the process of acquiring it. There are still a few legal documents to revise and sign and loose ends to be fixed. Now, you do need to know that it’ll only be transferred to you two on your wedding day.”
“On our wedding day. My wedding. With Benson,” I repeat.
“That’s right,” Mom says, signaling a waiter over to take our order. “But we’ll have plenty of time to discuss the specifics later. For now, we should celebrate. And how good does it feel now that you won’t have to worry about some developer snatching up the land?”
She raises her glass of champagne. Benson and I follow suit like two robots who don’t have the capacity to grasp what’s happening.
“To your upcoming engagement,” Mom says.
We clink our glasses together. I take a big gulp and order a random dish from the menu when the waiter comes over. Everything seems to pass me by in a daze. Surely, we can’t go through with this? We have to tell Mom the truth. But how? And when?
“I saw that you organize private overnight camping trips, Benson,” Mom says as she digs into her grilled trout. “Would you be willing to take Piper and me on one this weekend?”
My fork falls out of my hand. “Uhm, I’m sure Benson is way too busy with running the campground, Mom.”
Her face falls. “Oh, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to experiencing a real adventure in nature. I’ve never been camping before and one of the women I ran into in town spoke highly of you, Benson. Said you were kind and have lots of expertise.”
Benson smiles at her. “That’s okay. Jamie, that’s the guy who works a summer job at my campground, can keep an eye on everything while we’re gone.”
“Really? That would be amazing.”
I give him a look that begs him not to go along with this. First of all, it’ll mean more pretending. And second of all… Well, I just don’t want to go camping with the guy, because it would mean spending an entire day and evening with him. No thanks.
But Benson acts like he doesn’t see my pleading face. “Sure thing.”
“Great, that’s settled then,” Mom says, happily taking another bite of her rosemary potatoes, and talking Benson’s ear off about camping supplies and views.
Ugh. How did I end up here? With a fake boyfriend who’s apparently about to ask me to marry him, and the three of us going on some backcountry camping trip? I can barely wrap my head around it all. This was supposed to be one night. The end. Not one night plus another couple of days!
The rest of the evening blurs together. The conversation drifts from local events to inconsequential chatter, all while I’m struggling to keep up the fa?ade. By the time we’ve finished dessert and have walked Mom to the cozy little B&B she’s staying at, I’m coiled tight as a spring, feeling like I’m about to snap.
Mom gives both Benson and me warm hugs, completely oblivious to the fact that we’ve lied to her. Thank goodness, though. I’d hate to hurt her by coming clean right this second. She had such an amazing evening.
“It’s been a pleasure spending the evening with you both,” she says, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I’m so glad we had this chance. Next time, Piper’s father will join us, but he was too busy to take off time from work this week.”
I manage a tight smile and squeeze her hand. “It was great, Mom. I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay.”
Mom heads inside, and the moment the door closes behind her, I let out a long, shaky breath.
Benson looks equally exhausted. “That went… better than I expected,” he says.
I scoff at his words. “Better? Are you kidding? We’re stuck in this fake engagement mess now. My mother thinks we’re actually getting married. We’ve got to come clean with her.”
“Come clean with her? After we lied to her all evening?” he asks. “That seems a bit harsh, no?”
I stomp my foot on the ground. “Lying to her tonight was all your idea! I was the one who suggested I tell her we broke up, but you refused.”
“I only went along with this fake dating thing to help you. I don’t care if you have to date boring financial investors, okay? It’s not my problem at all, and yet I tried to make things better for you. Can’t you see that I did this to make you happy?”
I throw my hands in the air. “So what, you’re the martyr now? The helpless victim?”
“I’m not. I just didn’t want to make things worse for you, and now you’re turning this around on me. I hope you realize I’m not the one who lied to her in the first place. You did that, a year ago.”
“That was before I knew she would come here and meet you!”
His face flushes with annoyance. “Well, guess what? Lies always come back to bite you in the butt, Pip. Honesty is still the best policy.”
“It’s Piper!” I yell.
He takes me by the arm and leads me further down the road. When I protest, he gives me a look of steel. “Let’s not do this here. What if your mother looks out the window and sees us arguing?”
My nostrils flare with anger, but I have to admit he’s right—no matter how hard I hate doing that. We can’t have a fight in front of the B&B she’s staying at. “Fine, let’s take this somewhere else.”
“We’ll go to my place,” he says.
“Or mine.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Or, for once, you can try not to be against everything I suggest.”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh. “We’ll go to your campground.”
“Good. Let’s use the walk there to get to know each other better,” he suggests.
“Why? I’m pretty sure I know all there is to know about you,” I bite back, even though he didn’t say anything bad.
“Oh yeah? And what is it that you think you know about me?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.
“That you’re insufferable.”
He yawns. “That lame judgment is getting old fast.”
“Fine, I guess I don’t know you that well.”
“Then shouldn’t we level the playing field and bury the hatchet? At least for the next few days?”
I bite my lip. To be honest, this whole hating Benson thing is getting exhausting. It would be nice to bury the hatchet, or at least come to a neutral truce.
“I’ll decide once we’re back at your place,” I say, in a futile attempt to keep the upper hand.
“I see. Playing hard to get, huh,” he jokes.
I swat his arm. “There’s nothing to get , except another punch on the arm from me. Maybe even a truce. Definitely not a kiss,” I quickly add before he can bring up that insane suggestion again.