“Mom, all’s going to be fine. Maya was very excited with everything we’ve planned so far. They really like our work.” I squeeze her hand, not only for her but for myself too.

Mom nods and then gives me a faint smile. “Lukas was with you when you met them?” she asks and I try hard not to quiver, as my hand is still over hers.

My mother, possibly like all other mothers, has an exceptional capability of knowing what I’m trying to hide.

“His company is providing security to the Brunos.” My insides jolt, but I keep a calm exterior, until Mom hits too close with her concern.

She twines her fingers with mine. “How are you both doing, tums? Are you getting along well?”

“Yeah.” If only she knew that yeah meant that he just ate me like an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet.

“You guys have been writing for four years now. He must almost feel like a friend.” A smile tips her lips, and I return it with my own.

“In many ways, he does.”

“Do you two talk about the future?”

My head swims. How do moms do it? They lure you into safety and then try to get out all your secrets. I pull my hands away, but before I can reply in words, she changes the topic of our conversation once again.

“I saw him outside with Mr. Big.”

“He’s understanding the layout of the inn so his team can work on a strategy for the security plan at the wedding.”

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

“Mom!” I squeak. This is too much. My head is bouncing as we jump from one topic to another. I also don’t want to correct my mom. Because Lukas isn’t just handsome. He’s the embodiment of all the synonyms and adjectives that mean handsome.

“He doesn’t even look old.”

“It doesn’t matter how he looks, Mom. He is twelve years older than me.”

“Does his age really bother you?”

Okay, so she’s not here to talk about wedding plans.

I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe it bothers him.”

“Men have no problem dating younger women.”

“What has gotten into you? I can’t believe…we’re having this conversation. Did you talk to Grandma before coming here?”

But she speaks right over my words. “Since you told us about the divorce, I can’t stop thinking that something isn’t right.”

“Mom—”

“I know. I know we agreed on ending this relationship four years back, but now, looking at Lukas, I wonder if you’d be doing the right thing. He didn’t tell us about being in St. Peppers because he was worried about you, right?”

My stomach takes a deep dive, and I hate that she’s trying to show me something I’m not ready to see and believe. But I nod a yes in reply to her question.