EVE POV
Eve POV
"Frederick Taylor, darling. He's absolutely perfect for you!" My mother's voice was bright, laced with a forced cheerfulness that I knew masked an iron will. I didn't even bother turning from the complex algorithm glowing on my screen.
"Mum, we've been over this. I'm not marrying anyone, let alone Frederick," I stated flatly, fingers flying across the keyboard. The familiar, almost suffocating scent of lavender and lilies, my mother's signature wafted into the room.
"But darling," she purred, her voice now taking on that dangerously smooth tone that always preceded an ultimatum, "the family anniversary is just weeks away. Grandma's expecting a big announcement."
I finally swiveled around, my expression mirroring the steel in her own. My mother might bake a mean brownie and have a hug ready for every occasion, but beneath the soft exterior was a woman who got what she wanted. And right now, what she wanted was me marching down the aisle.
"You're not seriously threatening me with an arranged marriage in this century, are you?" I challenged, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
A flicker of a smile played at the corner of her lips. "Consider it a strong suggestion, Eve. Besides, it's not arranged, darling. It's simply… facilitated. He's already smitten. Came to see us last night, asking about you," she added, a touch of smugness in her voice.
"He is back?" I asked, surprised despite myself. It had been years.
"He arrived yesterday," she confirmed, settling onto the plush sofa with an exaggerated sigh, as if the weight of my marital status rested solely on her shoulders.
My heart skipped a beat. Frederick. Back. A wave of nostalgia, tinged with a bittersweet ache, washed over me. It had been years since junior high, since I'd last seen the boy who'd held my heart captive with his easy charm and mischievous grin. He was the reason I'd learned the hard way that some crushes are best left unspoken, especially when the object of your affection is a notorious heartbreaker.
"Eve? Earth to Eve!" My mother's voice snapped me back to reality.
"Yes, Mum?" I said, trying to regain my composure.
"I gave Frederick your number. He should be calling you soon," she announced, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "I've taken the liberty of making a reservation for you two at De Castle tomorrow evening."
"What?" I exclaimed, my carefully constructed facade crumbling. "Mum, you can't just orchestrate my love life!"
"Oh, but I can, darling," she countered smoothly. "Especially when it involves rekindling a childhood romance. Besides," she added, her voice laced with a touch of steel, "need I remind you that you're nearly twenty-five, the only Mickelson grandchild still unmarried?"
"Now, be a dear and offer your mother some refreshment. This matchmaking is exhausting work."
I rolled my eyes, but the tension was already easing. This wasn't a battle I could win, not against my mother. But surrender wasn't an option either. "I made other plans, Mum," I said, picking up my phone to feign a call. "I'm meeting… someone." The lie slipped out before I could stop it, a desperate attempt to deflect the inevitable Frederick offensive.
Her eyes narrowed, instantly suspicious. "Someone? Who, Eve? Is this serious?"
I hesitated, then plunged in. "Yes, Mum. It's serious."
My mother's expression morphed from smug satisfaction to stunned disbelief. "Who? What's his name? Which family?" The interrogation began, swift and relentless.
The lie hung in the air between us, thick and heavy. But it bought me time. Time to figure out how to navigate this latest matrimonial minefield my mother had so carefully laid. "His name," I added, with a touch of defiance, "its…a suprise"
I cringed inwardly, piling lie upon lie. But to my surprise, a delighted smile spread across her face. It seemed my mother, the master manipulator, was easily manipulated herself.
"I want to meet him," she declared, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Not yet, Mum," I pleaded, buying myself some much-needed time. "It's too soon. I'll bring him to the anniversary party next month, I promise." The knot in my stomach tightened. The anniversary party. The perfect stage for my grand deception.
"Good," she said, rising to her feet. "And if this… *'someone'* doesn't work out," she added with a knowing smirk, "Frederick is still an option." She kissed me on the cheek, leaving me in a swirling vortex of lies and impending doom.
As soon as the door closed behind her, I grabbed my phone, firing off an SOS to Sophia. "Emergency. Need a fake boyfriend. STAT."
"Wow. That's... a bold move, even for you," Sophia said after hearing my ordeal with my mum, a slow grin spreading across her face. "A fake boyfriend? Who knew desperation suited you so well?"
"It's not desperation!" I protested, but the weak defense died on my lips. "Okay, maybe a little. But Mum's relentless. And Frederick..." I trailed off, a flicker of something I couldn't quite name crossing my features.
Sophia's grin widened. "Frederick, huh? Still carrying a torch for the childhood sweetheart?" She nudged me with her elbow, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Don't worry, I've got you covered." She pulled out her phone, tapping away with practiced ease. "There's an app for everything these days, even fake boyfriends. Consider it your twenty-first-century solution to an age-old problem."