Page 27 of The CEO I Hate (The Lockhart Brothers #1)

MIA

“ O kay, how do you want to play this?” I asked, sitting in the passenger seat of Liam’s ridiculously fancy Porsche—the one Sophie had offered to help me throw bologna at.

The car purred as it sped through Valley Village.

It was gorgeous, yes, but I couldn’t relax in it at all, constantly afraid I was going to scuff the leather or get grubby fingerprints on something.

I’d wanted to take my old, reliable beater, but Liam hadn’t thought said hunk of junk was fake-date worthy. So, he’d picked me up in this thing , revving the engine like some dude-bro, and I’d rolled my eyes as he’d hopped out to open my door.

“Practice makes perfect,” he’d said when I’d complained about the car and him opening my door. “D’you want to sell this to your parents or not?”

Now we were about to pull up in front of the house, and I was wondering exactly that.

How were we going to sell this to my parents?

Maybe we should hold hands or flirt or look adoringly into each other’s eyes.

We hadn’t exactly discussed the logistics of this fake relationship.

And it was fake. Only fake. The butterflies in my gut needed to take a long hike.

“I figure we’ll go in there, I’ll look your dad straight in the eye and say, ‘Sir, I’d like to court your daughter,’ and then he’ll probably?—”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes?” I said as Liam cracked an uncharacteristically carefree smile. Seeing him like this warmed my chest in a way I tried not to think too hard about.

“Fine, fine, no more joking. I’m taking this seriously—I swear,” he said as the car swerved into the driveway. It was unnervingly smooth.

An unfamiliar vehicle was parked on the street in front of the house, and I glared at it, wondering what kind of terrible suitor my parents had summoned tonight.

“Think of it this way,” Liam said. “Whoever he is, he can’t possibly be worse than toilets.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate my parents.”

“Let’s put on a good show then.” He climbed out of the car, rounded the front end to open my door, and held his hand out for me. My heart raced as our hands touched, and I willed the feeling away.

None of this was real! It was all a show. I sucked in a deep breath as we climbed the porch steps. Here goes nothing .

“Hey!” I called, announcing our presence as we walked through the door. I toed off my shoes, lining them up next to Liam’s. “We’re here!”

“We?” my mother called from the kitchen. “We who?”

She appeared at the end of the hall, clad in her company-approved blush and frilly apron, wearing an uncertain smile. It relaxed the moment she laid eyes on us. “Oh, Liam,” she said. “What a surprise! It’s good to see you. ”

“Hi, Harriet,” Liam said, flashing her a brilliant smile. “Whatever you’ve got cooking smells amazing.”

I glanced over at him. God, he reminded me of Finn when he laid on the charm that thick.

My mother beamed. “It was nice of you to drive Mia. Did Jake ask you to? I’m guessing Mia’s car finally gave up the ghost. I told you it looked like it was on its last legs, dear.”

“Actually, my car’s just fine—” I tried to say, but Mom barreled right over me, as usual.

“At least she’s here on time for once. Liam, I insist you join us for dinner. The two of you can go ahead into the dining room. I’ll just grab another plate.” With that, she headed toward the kitchen.

“He didn’t just drive me, Mom, we’re toge—” I called after her, but she disappeared into the kitchen without even looking back. Liam grabbed my hand and squeezed, lacing our fingers together. I looked down, losing my train of thought.

“What’s that thing writers are always saying?” he murmured. “Show, don’t tell?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I tugged him down the hall after me, toward the dining room.

“Liam!” Dad called as we entered. “Wasn’t expecting you! How’s the old show business?”

Liam released me to shake my dad’s hand. I spaced out, getting a good look at the man who had taken toilet-Paul’s spot. He was pale, almost unnaturally so, with thin, wispy hair—most of it growing out of his ears—and dressed in a slightly oversized black suit.

“Booming,” Liam said, bringing me back to reality. “We’re in the thick of pre-production on season two. ”

“Sounds terrifying,” Dad joked. “Not that I understand how any of that razzle dazzle works—but as long as it pays off for you, that’s what matters, right?” He finally looked over to me. “And there’s my princess. Bill, this is our daughter, Mia.”

Bill stood, reaching across the table for my hand. “She’s as lovely as you said, Frank.”

I gritted my teeth as I reached for his hand. His skin was papery. The irritation only eased as Liam’s hand curled around my hip. His free hand reached out to shake Bill’s as he introduced himself. “And what do you do, Bill?” Liam asked.

He sat and swirled his glass of wine. “I’m in the business of bodies.”

“Only the dead ones,” Dad quipped. “Bill’s a mortician down at Valley Funeral Home.”

Liam squeezed my hip, whispering “Ew, bodies” in my ear when everyone had looked away. Oh, for the love of ?—

“Here,” Liam said, pulling out my chair.

“Thanks,” I whispered. Was it too late to run and hide in the Porsche? My mother, who had already bustled in and out with a place setting for Liam, waltzed back into the room, a steaming casserole dish held between two oven mitts.

“Who’s hungry?”

For the next hour and a half, we ate while Bill regaled us with the intricacies of embalming bodies.

When he asked me whether I’d prefer a traditional casket or cremation, Liam choked on his casserole so badly, I had to thump him on the back.

He slurped at his water, hiding his laughter in his glass.

“I figure I still have some time to think about it,” I said as politely as I could manage .

Bill hummed. “It’s never too soon. You should see how many young people come across my table.”

“Oh, good to know,” I said as my stomach soured.

I tried to imagine being the wife of a mortician.

Would we both walk around smelling like embalming fluid?

Ugh , what a horrible thought. But I reached whole new realms of horror when Bill cleared his throat, looked me dead in the eye, and asked me on a date.

I spluttered on my words. “Bill, I’m…I’m sorry. There must have been some miscommunication.” I leaned into Liam’s side. Had the fact that we’d walked in holding hands escaped everyone’s attention? “I’m here with Liam. We’re together.”

Bill blinked at me, a horrible awkwardness settling over the table. “Your mother told me you were single and desperate.”

Irritation surged through me. “Well, she was mistaken.”

“What Mia means,” my mother said diplomatically, trying to save face, “is that she and Liam are old friends. Actually, he’s really friends with my son. Have we told you about Jake yet?”

“What Mia means…” I said, rising to my feet, “…is that she’s going home.” I turned, marching out of the dining room, not stopping to see if Liam had followed, though I could hear him thanking my parents curtly for the lovely meal.

I, meanwhile, couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

By the time I’d reached the porch, I was desperate for fresh air. I felt like I was the one being stuffed in some coffin, locked away from the life I wanted to live. I was shaking and didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the entire evening or burst into tears.

Both, probably. But I held my composure because Liam appeared, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I knew I couldn’t have a breakdown in front of him. Tonight was mortifying enough. I hugged my arms to my chest.

“You okay?” he asked.

My resolve broke. “Do you see what kind of nightmare I have to deal with?”

“Toilets,” he said, trying to keep things light. “Morticians. I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Downhill,” I muttered. “That’s where.” I laughed abruptly, though nothing about this felt funny. “You know what the worst part was? My parents didn’t believe for one second that you and I were a couple.”

“I thought we sold it pretty well.”

I shook my head. “None of it mattered. You could have kissed me right there at the table, and she would have assumed you were giving me mouth-to-mouth or something. It’s just so outside her understanding of how the world works that you could want me that she’ll come up with any other explanation, no matter what we do or say. ” I huffed, stalking down to the car.

“What kind of love is that? Where they genuinely don’t believe anyone attractive and successful could love me?”

Liam unlocked the car, and I climbed in, slumping down in the passenger seat. He slid in next to me but didn’t hurry to start the car. “I think it might be the only kind they have to offer. It’s not a reflection on you, you know. It’s just the way they are.”

I put my head in my hands.

“When I…” he started, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. It got me to look up, watching his thumb tap the steering wheel. “My mom’s always struggled with depression. Jake might have told you. ”

I nodded hesitantly. Jake had told me a bit—not much. But I’d gotten the sense that even Jake didn’t know a lot more than that. Clearly, Liam didn’t find it easy to talk about.

“She’s in a good place now, but after Dad walked out when Finn and Connor and I were young…

it could get bad. Really bad. I knew my mom loved me and my brothers, but there were days when she couldn’t even see us standing there in front of her.

We’d beg her to get out of bed, to come have dinner, to just talk to us—but nothing we did seemed to reach her. ”