Claiming Callie: Part two (20 page)

She goes over their options as Dean finishes talking to his mother: a) Tell Mrs. Michaels the truth. That her relationship with her son is a complete farce, all in an
effort to help Dean win a different girl’s heart—one with whom Mrs. Michaels has never met and Callie has a feeling she wouldn
’
t like very much—and the second Maya gives him a second chance, they will effectively break up; or b) Continue with said ruse, an
d pretend that they are, in fact, together.

The first option will certainly lead to heartbreak for Mrs. Michaels. Callie may not be all-knowing like she is, but she
’
s an intelligent girl and smart enough to know that the thought of Callie and Dean dating w
ould be incredibly exciting news. Callie is the daughter of her deceased best friend and her own daughter
’
s bestie. Callie
’
s practically a daughter to her. From a mother’s standpoint, what
’
s not to love about that situation?

The second option would appease
her for now. There would be no hearts breaking. Although this option would definitely amp up her hopes of Callie and Dean making it to the altar, it would be the least terrifying for now. Once Callie has a job and enters the corporate world, she
’
ll probab
ly see the Michaels—with the exception of Jinny—less often and they can soften the blow of a breakup.

But lying to Mrs. Michaels? It
’
s so wrong.

Yeah, well, breaking her motherly heart isn
’
t so right, either.

Dean hangs up and shoves his phone in his coat
pocket. His hair
’
s sticking up in the front from perpetually shoving his hands in it, and he
’
s staring at her
as if she might implode any second. Sighing, he glances down at his feet and kicks a small rock, sending it sailing several yards away.

“Don
’
t wor
ry. This is my mess. I started it, and I
’
ll tell her. I just
…she wouldn
’
t let me get a word in and she was so excited, but I
’
ll call her back tonight and tell her the truth.”

She pictures Mrs. Michaels, the swoop of her dark bob, her tiny frame that Jinny
inherited, along with the startling blue eyes Dean took with him from the womb. Right this second, she is probably donning one of her aprons with the silly sayings and cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Probably making them a congratulations cake or someth
ing. When you hug her, the scent of sugar cookies mingling with her floral perfume embraces you in a head-spinning fog. And her hugs, they
’
re the kind you can
’
t escape. The kind you have no choice but to melt into. In many ways, she’s quite different than
her own mother was, but Mr. and Mrs. Michaels are the closest thing Callie has to home. And the thought of Mr. Michaels believing in her and Dean
’
s relationship broke her heart equally. Mr. Michaels, with his warm smile, his graying hair and mustache, his
quiet demeanor.

“Don
’
t,” Callie rasps, and the sound of her voice nearly startles herself. “Don
’
t tell her.
”

Dean narrows his eyes and licks his lips. “But Callie, she thinks we
’
re really together. She wants us to come to dinner on Friday.” He talks faster
now, his arms waving around as he speaks. “She
’
s so damn excited and she was talking about all kinds of crazy stuff. She—”

Callie steps forward and she grabs Dean
’
s hands. She holds them in her own and she can taste something metallic in the back of her t
hroat. The bitter edge is reminiscent of something and it takes her a moment before she realizes what it is. Fear. She tasted it the night the police told her about the accident and she tastes it now, only less so. And she knows why. She
’
s suddenly irratio
nally terrified of losing the only family she has left.

She squeezes his hands and hopes he can
’
t hear the tremor in her voice. “No. Please. She doesn
’
t need to know right now. Let her be excited. We can break it to her later, let her down easier that way.
Over time.”

“Callie.” Dean shakes his head and glances away from her as his thumbs move in slow circles over the tops of her hands. “She
’
s talking about giving me my mother
’s engagement ring.
” His voice is nearly a whisper, but Callie catches every word.
And with each word comes complete clarity—that the thought of giving Callie his grandmother
’
s ring is unthinkable. The thought stings.

“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, we can
’
t have that. I mean, you and me…
an engagement ring? That’
s too crazy.” She can hear the des
olation in her voice and hates how pathetic it makes her sound.

He must hear it too, because he squeezes her hands and ducks his head so their eyes meet. “Hey, you
’
re not upset, are you?”

Of course I am! But I have absolutely no reason to be!
They’re
talking about an engagement ring here, not a piece of plastic from a gumball machine. To receive an engagement ring, you have to be engaged. And, you know, actually dating helps.

What the hell is wrong with me?
Callie does a mental face-palm.

She’s thinkin
g about Dean and an engagement ring in the same context. She’s gone nuts. Completely, certifiably nuts.
Say something!

“
I just
…” What can she say? Especially while her thoughts are moving so fast they
’
re giving her whiplash. “
I don’
t want to upset her. She
’
s so excited…
I just don’
t want her to know. I figure we can keep doing our own thing and sometime over the summer or whatever we can start throwing hints at her, prepare her for it, then let her down easy.”

She realizes how ludicrous this is. She
’
s talki
ng about letting Mrs. Michaels down easy over something that never existed in the first place. She
’
s suggesting faking a relationship, then faking problems with that relationship, then finally a breakup. It
’
s insane. It
’
s about the dumbest idea Callie
’
s ev
er had—including the escort service idea, and that one was a whopper.

Dean
’
s silent for a moment. She can sense hesitation in the way he
’
s looking at her. “Okay. We
’
ll wait. If you
’
re sure that
’
s what you want.” His slate-blue eyes move over her face.

“It
is.” She leans into him, and without thinking she hugs him. His long arms come around her and wrap securely around her body. Resting her head on his chest, she says, “It
’
s better this way. You
’
ll see.”

#

All her energy isn
’
t enough to focus on work. It
’
s f
our o
’
clock on Friday and she
’
s trying to wrap up any loose ends for her clients before the weekend, but she
’
s finding work nearly impossible. Things that usually take her a matter of minutes seem to be taking hours, in no small thanks to her recurrent men
tal freak-outs. Her mounting dislike for Maya is the least of her worries. Right now, her impending dinner with the Michaels is trumping everything.

You should
’
ve just let Dean tell his mother the truth! Then you wouldn
’
t be getting ready to go back to the
apartment to prepare for a dinner with his parents. A dinner meant to celebrate the fact that you
’
re in a relationship with their son. Except that you
’
re not!

She leans forward in her chair and bangs her head against the top of her desk
. Thwack. Thwack. T
hwack.

Maybe if I go brain dead, I can get out of dinner.

Behind her, someone clears their throat.

Callie freezes, hear head halfway to the desk and preparing for another impact. Slowly, and with as much dignity as possible, she lifts her head, realizing
how completely ridiculous she must look. But if it
’
s only Mr. Bucek, her embarrassment will be minimal.