“So, Kara,” she says as I take a bite of quinoa. “Tell us more about Liam. Did anything romantic go on during your trip?”

I pause, taking note of the impish look in her eyes as she tries to play the part of my innocent sister. I need to tread carefully.

“Liam is amazing and yes, technically, lots of romantic things happened during my trip.”

My mom drops her fork. A massive smile spreads across her face as she recovers and picks it back up.

“Well,” she says. “It sounds to me like you got everything you’ve always written about. You fell in love in Italy.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” What my mom doesn’t know is that I’m referring to a blond American and not a British redhead.

“And he has an accent?” she asks.

“A light one,” I answer.

“And he’s handsome?”

“Very handsome.”

“And charming?”

“Almost too charming.”

“He sounds incredible. When is he coming to visit? Or are you going to see him in London? I don’t love the idea of you traveling again and long-distance relationships can be very tricky.”

“To be honest, Mom, I’m not sure when I’m going to see Liam again.”

“You mean you didn’t arrange anything? How can you two be dating and not plan on seeing each other?”

Okay. She’s really not going to like this part. I try to speak in my most calming tone. “Interesting story... Liam and I aren’t dating.”

By the look on my mom’s face, you’d think I’d just run over her childhood pet. Maybe I should have been a little more forthright about the Liam situation.

“I’m sure he’ll get here eventually, though,” I offer. “He said he’d maybe try to visit in a few months once he figured out what he’s going to do business-wise.”

“But I thought... Who were you talking about falling in love with then?”

I look over at Jen with a guilty smile and shrug. She rolls her eyes in response.

“Jen?” my mom asks. “Do you know who she’s talking about?”

My sister looks back at me and I wordlessly give her permission to tell Mom whatever she wants.

“I may have an idea of who she’s referring to,” she says cautiously.

If Jen thinks I’m sticking around for this conversation, she is sorely mistaken. I pile as many bites of roast chicken into my cowardly mouth as possible as I stand up from the table.

“All right, I would love to stay and chat but I really need to go. I have tons of unpacking and editing to do. Thanks for dinner, Mom. See you guys next week!”