I don’t care about Michelin and its stupid stars. Yeah, I’d sell my soul for a decent crêpe, but duck confit with Perrier water on elegant table linens and fancy waiters isn’t exactly my style. Austin and his hand-made pizza in my kitchen are my style.

“How did you two meet?” my father asks, begrudgingly taking a seat on one of the bar stools on the other side of the kitchen counter. Austin pulls the premade dough and cheese out of the refrigerator and I pull the sauce and spices out of the cabinets.

“In the library.” I stick to the truth as much as possible. I’m a terrible liar. Maybe that’s why I keep my mouth shut around my father so much. There isn’t much I have to say that we agree on.

“Elizabeth needed a tutor,” Austin hints with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes as they meet mine. I stifle a gasp.

“A tutor?” my father inquires with a disapproving lilt. “I thought all your studies were going quite well, Beth.”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’re well in hand now,” Austin teases and I blush. He’s playing a dangerous game and I’m cursing myself for asking him to stay.

I attempt to change the subject. “Austin is one of the university’s star athletes!”

“Is that so?” my father muses. “In which sport?”

“Football,” Austin and I answer in stereo. “But I’d hardly call myself a star,” Austin adds.

“Talented enough to have earned a scholarship,” I retort.

Am I bragging about Austin? I am. I want my father to like him.

That’s weird.

It shouldn’t matter what my father thinks of Austin. He’s never going to see him again. Still, he’s the first boyfriend my father has ever met. Actually, he’s the first boyfriend I’ve ever had. Well, I guess he isn’t even that. He’s more an employee than anything else.

Don’t blow it all out of proportion.

Austin Jacobs is pretending to be my boyfriend while he makes dinner for me and my father.

No biggie.

“Plus, you’ve maintained over a 3.75 GPA each semester too. It really is impressive, Austin,” I add, unable to keep myself from talking him up. Austin gives me a sideways glance. Creepy stalker warning alarms must be going off in his head. Guess he doesn’t realize the Dean’s List is published on the school website each semester. I know because my name’s on there too, near the top.

“That is an achievement. What is your major?” My father’s tone is almost impressed. Academics are more his forte than sports.