Fake Fiancé

Dinner With The Future In-Laws

Isabella played with the skirt of her dress as Joe drove to his parent's house. He glanced over at her, slightly feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know this is awkward. But you know everything about me since you've worked for me for five years and. . ."

"And you know nothing about me," Isabella mumbled.

"I know you," Joe said, trying to defend himself.

After thinking about it for a few seconds, he knew that she was right. He didn't know near as much about her as she knew about him.

"Well," Isabella sighed, clearing her throat. "Let's stick as much to the truth as we can. If we build our story on it, it'll be harder to mess up."

"That's smart."

"Well, we met when I started working for you five years ago. Throughout the years, all the overtime and late-night dinner runs led to both of us developing feelings. How long do you think we should say that we've been dating before you asked me to marry you?"

Joe looked over at Isabella, slightly shocked. She's always been extra organized and overly prepared at work. He should've realized she would be the same way with their fake engagement.

"How about a year?" Joe offered.

Isabella nodded as she thought of her next question. "Do we want to explain why no one we work with knows? I mean, keeping a workplace relationship a secret is one thing. Keeping it from your boss who is also your father is another."

"We could say that I didn't want him to be worried that our relationship would get in the way of doing my job," he answered. "And I didn't want him trying to interfere. Having been secretly dating a year before the engagement should reassure him, well fakely reassure him that it hasn't interfered so far and won't interfere in the future."

"How long do you want to tell your parents we've been engaged?"

"Not too long," Joe hesitated as he thought about it.

"How about a month?" Isabella suggested. "A month is recent enough but keeping it to ourselves for that time is more. . . Romantic."

The way she said "romantic" made Joe fill with guilt. He cleared his throat, slightly changing his grip on the steering wheel.

"What should we do if your parents ask a question that we didn't talk about?" Isabella asked.

After thinking about it for a second, Joe replied, "Well, I guess stick as close to the truth as you can. If there is truly nothing you can use, make it up."

"Just make it up?" Isabella wanted to double-check.

"Unless you can think of something better," Joe shrugged.

"Can't that make things complicated?"

"We'll just have to be careful about what we say. And make sure the other knows the story."

As they pulled into Joe's parent's driveway, Isabella thought of one more thing that would help sell this lie.

"You should call me Bella."

Joe looked over to see a blush present on Isabella's face. "Why?"

"Well," she said shakily, "growing up, that's what my family and close friends called me. So it makes sense that my fiancé would call me it, too."

The way she said "fiancé" made Joe's guilt jump into his throat. He cleared his throat, forcing it back down.

"Are you okay with me calling you Bella?"