"He's different, isn't he?"

Celia glanced up from the mug of organic hot cocoa she'd been blowing on absent-mindedly and met her mother's questioning gaze. The two of them had been sitting quietly in one of their estate's many lounges since arriving back from the Country Club, and though Celia and her mother, Alma, were well-versed in the art of comfortable silences, something seemed off this time. She hadn't quite been able to put her finger on it.

"I told you he would be," Celia replied, taking a small sip of cocoa before adding, "that's why I like him."

Alma pursed her rouge lips. "But are you sure he's right for you, darling? The boy doesn't even know which cutlery to use for each course. I do think you made a mistake, breaking it off with Demi."

"Those things can be taught," she mimicked her mother's pout, "where is this coming from? Less than three hours ago you were over the moon with our engagement."

"I was swept up in the moment," said Alma, waving a manicured hand, "but I've had time to think it through. Your father doesn't like Eric very much, either."

"You haven't given him a chance!"

"Celia, we sat with him for three hours today –"

"He was overwhelmed!" she argued. She needed her mother to like Eric – she could not marry Demi. "He didn't know anyone. He wanted to make a good impression but you sat us at a table with the Knights, of all people, and the Fontaines. Next to Emile. Can you imagine how awkward it must have been?"

"Celia – "

"Mother!" Celia jumped up abruptly from the chaise-longue, spilling warm cocoa over her hands. Gosh – she sounded so desperate. And for Eric of all people.

But she had a reason to sound desperate.

Things were not going according to plan.

It was supposed to be the perfect lie – she'd pretend to have a boyfriend until her brother or sister got married; at least then her father wouldn't care what she did. He only wanted her to marry into an affluent family to secure their family's company's future and inheritance - or something. She didn't listen to that part. Everything went in through one ear and out the through other as soon as Demi was mentioned.

It wasn't as though Demi would make a bad husband; he was attractive, kind and a little goofy, and they got on just fine. But Celia had seen the blond as a brother figure for more than sixteen years, so the thought of marrying was just, well...wrong.

Demi was equally grossed out by the idea, and so the two of them had spent hours coming up with the perfect plan of action, meticulously ironing out every little detail. School and work records were manufactured, actors were hired and family trees were all figured out. Demi even spent a good amount of time creating fake social media pages.

"We want them to look the real deal," he'd said, typing away on his Macbook Pro, "everybody has a Facebook page."

They thought they'd accounted for everything.

But they hadn't account for human error.

They hadn't accounted for Eric. Gosh - that boy was a human error, if ever she saw one. He'd royally screwed up – and now she was engaged again. Except this time, it wasn't real. There was a lot more at risk.

Celia wasn't even the one who'd found Eric; Demi, in his search for a suitor, had stumbled across that colourfully worded escort ad and somehow decided that he was the one.

She, on the other hand, had been less than convinced.

"He sounds like a total pervert," she'd frowned when Demi first waved the ad in her face. "'If you've come across my profile and you're feeling down, don't – I can feel you up.' Seriously?"

Demi just laughed at her unamused expression, "I know, I know. But I've checked this guy out on social media – Facebook, Twitter. The guy even has Instagram. It's mostly pictures of trees and cats, but – "

"Demitri. Get to your point," Celia snapped her fingers. The boy loved to waffle.

"He seems harmless. I don't think he made the ad – it's not how he types on Facebook, and it's not even an attractive picture. He is attractive though, well, attractive enough that your parents will approve –"

"Would you like to date him?" she tilted her head, resisting a smirk.

He laughed again. "The least we could do is give him a call. He might just say yes."

Of course – Eric didn't say yes. He said, "For the last time, this is not an escort service – I am not an escort. Or a hooker. Whatever you're looking for, you won't get it from me, okay? You have the wrong number."

"What now?"

"I guess we try again."

And that had been that. 

Gosh – they sure had a lot riding on a boy who ran away the first time he saw her.

But she wanted her mother to like him. She needed to turn him into a shining beacon of gentlemanly conduct. That – or less of an idiot, at least.

Celia licked the cocoa from her fingers. "Give him a chance – please. Give him a chance to prove he's good enough – he is, I promise. Postpone the engagement party if you have to – organise a family get-together instead. The Romanovs and the Valentines. Please. You'll see. You just need to get to know him better."

Alma sighed, rubbing her temple with an index finger. "Fine. I'll give the boy one last chance to impress."

Celia clapped her hands together with a squeal and bounced over to her mother, before planting a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you!"

"I suppose he does have nice features," mused Alma, "I'd at least have cute grandbabies."

Celia grimaced, wrinkling her freckled nose. "And that's my cue to leave. Goodnight, mother. See you tomorrow!"

*****

"I'm not saying that I'm jealous," said Henry, stuffing his face with an obscene amount of chicken teriyaki, "but you're getting paid to date a hot girl and eat lobster. Why am I not getting a piece of the action?"

It was Friday evening and Eric was choosing to spend it dying on Jay's living room floor. He'd wanted a quiet day to himself; he was wrecked – who knew pretending to be someone else could be so tiring? - but he hadn't seen his two friends since half-term had begun, and he was seriously craving some normality. Besides, Henry offered to bring some takeaway from his family restaurant, and who could say no to that? Golden Dragon was to die for.

"I didn't say she was hot," Eric yawned, pouring four glasses of iced green tea, "I said she was moderately attractive. Besides – this is all your fault anyway, so there. Karma."

"Exactly," Jay chimed in, "our fault. So I'm thinking somebody should be splitting his pay."

"Keep dreaming," he scoffed, "she hasn't even paid me yet. I'm starting to doubt she even will."

"If she does...does that mean you'll quit your job and hang with me at the weekend?" Jay asked, grinning.

"Eric, if you quit your job I will drag you to the café myself and tie you to the espresso machine. Got that?" Vince shot Eric a warning glance from the couch, "I can't talk to myself all day. The conversation is riveting, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I need to hear another person's voice."

Eric rolled his eyes, but grinned slightly. Of course he wasn't going to quit – his mum would start asking where he was getting the money from, and besides, having a job looked kinda good on a CV. Plus, he actually liked working at the café. It was easy money. And he got to drink as many vanilla lattes as he wanted, so there was that.

"Yeah, like you're getting rid of me that easily," he said, waving his chopsticks at Vince, "aren't we closing for the winter this year? We're getting hardly any customers lately."

Vince shrugged. "Maybe. Probably. I might have to look for another job – just until the weather picks up again."

"Want me to ask my fam?" Henry chimed in, "We're always in need of delivery boys."

Vince was about to reply when Eric's iPhone began to buzz, and the three of them perked up, eyeing him intently.

Eric sighed. He wanted to tell them it was his mum, to get back to their damn food and stop being so nosy. But, of course, it wasn't. It was that damn girl. At least it was just a text message – he did not have the energy to talk to her tonight.

Hey, Eric. Hope you weren't too put off last night...I would be. Anyway, engagement party is cancelled, family get together instead. I'll explain tomorrow, see you at work! C:

Oh – also bringing Demi and Nina. (And Troy.) No Emile. Breathe. We'll be expecting tip-top service from you, and your handsome co-worker. C;

Xoxoxo

"Well, Vince," he mumbled, passing the phone around, "looks like we've got some customers to keep us in business... for tomorrow, at least."

**********

So, what did you guys think of this chapter? It's a little different, focusing more on Celia, and I'm really not confident about it. 

If you did like this chapter - a comment and a vote are always appreciated. <3

Also, a big thank you to zilim19 and NekoShiiro for their awesome feedback. c: