Page 110 of The Fake Husband Deal

She was the last person I wanted to see now, but she must have seen the story and rushed over.

Taking a calming breath, I parked beside her car and got out.

“Lior, I’ve been calling you all afternoon.”

“Sorry, Mom, I’ve been busy.”

She gave me a pitying look. “I can imagine. Let’s go inside, brew some coffee, and talk about this. Where’s Noah?”

The mention of his name made me flinch. “He’s at his place.”

I took my suit bag to my room while she went straight to the coffee maker.

It was time to come clean with her. She wouldn’t be happy with the truth, especially as I knew she liked Noah, but she needed to know.

When I returned to the kitchen, she was leaning against the sink, waiting for the coffee to brew.

“What is this about a fake marriage? Where on earth did they get the idea that your marriage is fake? You got married in Vegas, and you have a marriage certificate, don’t you?”

I released a breath. “Yes, our marriage is legal.” I paused. “But it doesn’t make it any less fake.”

She brought her hands to her chest. “Lior Van Stern. What have you done?”

“Something really, really stupid. Epically stupid. No wonder Dad didn’t trust me to just inherit the company. He knew I’d screw things up.” I laughed. “He gave me a test to prove myself, and I just proved him right.”

She came over to me and held my hands. “I don’t believe it. You’re a responsible and intelligent man. Whatever you did, you did it with the best intentions and with your heart on your sleeve. That’s how you do everything, Lior. I am your mother, and I know these things.”

She wrapped her small arms around me when I pulled her in for a hug. Her perfume was the comfort I needed. She hadn’t changed it for as long as I’d been alive and it always made me feel like I was home.

“Let me grab a couple of mugs, and then we’ll talk.”

She sat at the table while I poured the coffee.

“Okay, tell me everything.”

So I did.

I told her about meeting Noah at the bar on the day of Dad’s funeral, sparing her the lewd details. I told her how we’d met by chance in Atlanta, which was when I’d found out about our work connection. How I’d accidentally told Noah about the will when I’d had a few too many drinks.

“And he proposed just like that?” she asked.

“Yes. Noah can be very persuasive…and he had a point. I could help him access the mayor’s ball so he could network with the people who’d support his friends’ charity. With a little bit of press and my connections, he could make sure his friends had the best chance of winning the bid for the old hospital building.”

“And in return, he married you so you could meet your father’s will demands.”

“Yes.”

She sipped her coffee with her contemplative expression that sometimes scared me.

“So, you’re saying there was nothing in it for Noah, marrying you.”

That was correct. Noah had insisted on it to help me, but he’d known I would have helped him regardless.

I nodded.

“But you still got married and, forgive me for asking this, but you two were more than friends who married for a deal?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was not the topic I wanted to discuss with my mother.