The Boss's Fake Fiancee by Inara Scott

the brown edges off of the leaves of a large spider plant.
    “Did you talk to Garth yet? About Sunday brunch?”
    Melissa winced. “This week won’t work, Mom. I’m sorry, but he’s going to have to go into the office. He needs to send some documents to an investor.”
    “And it has to be done tomorrow? Honey, don’t you think this is all a little strange? He says he wants to marry you, and then can’t even make time to meet your parents?” Phoebe’s voice rose dangerously with each word.
    Phoebe had never been a particularly engaged parent—she spent far too much time focusing on her own needs to attend too deeply to those of her children—yet that did not diminish her desire to be important in their lives. Sometimes, Melissa thought that the less she needed her mother, the more interested in Melissa’s life she became. The story about Garth had hit her particularly hard. She now seemed to be trying to reassert her motherly importance by spending as much time as she could nagging Melissa about the engagement.
    Melissa moved on to a bright blue ceramic pot with a variety of sedums. Carefully, she picked out a cluster of tiny, wilted blooms. Back when she hated to leave her apartment, taking care of these plants had soothed her. Given her something to look forward to each day. She tried not to compare her table of houseplants to Garth’s ten acres of grounds.
    Stupid billionaire.
    “Mom, he wants to meet you. He really does. It’s just a terrible time. That’s why we weren’t going to announce this for several weeks. He knew it would be like this. He said to apologize.”
    “Hmph.” Clearly undeterred, Phoebe snorted into the phone. “Your father doesn’t understand why Garth didn’t talk to him. You might want to let him know that. I’m not trying to start off on a bad foot, honey, but Garth isn’t doing himself any favors.”
    “Can you just give him a break? He’s under a lot of stress right now. This investment he’s working on is his most important project ever. I’ve never seen him so emotional about something before.”
    Surprisingly enough, that was true. Even if Garth didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve, Melissa was starting to be able to read past his mask. And based on his reaction to Natalie Orelian’s email that morning, he was downright ecstatic at the prospect of securing additional funding.
    Her mother blew out a long breath. “What about next weekend?”
    “Maybe,” Melissa evaded. “I’ll check with him and see. I know he’s dying to meet you. I’ll let you know what we can do. ‘K? I’ve really got to run, now—my personal trainer is coming in a few minutes. Need to get in shape for the wedding, of course!” She hung up before her mother could object further.
    The phone rang again almost immediately. She answered without even looking at the screen. “Mom, I’ve really got to—”
    “Next week, Saturday.”
    She stopped. Blinked. “Who is this?”
    “Garth.” He paused, and then spoke slowly, sounding out the words as one might to an infant. “Next week. Saturday. You and I will be traveling to Seesaw and spending the weekend there.”
    “Oh.”
    They were going to spend the weekend together?
    “And Nan wants to spend a little more time with you this week. I’ll pick you up in the mornings and bring you to my house.”
    “That’s absurd,” she said, head spinning at the series of commands. “What about Orelian? The Kinsey project? ThinkSpeak? Danube?” Melissa thought about the mountain of work and huge variety of projects that she had been unable to focus on since that fateful morning Garth had slipped a ring on her finger. “You can’t miss that much time in the office and neither can I.”
    “It’s just for a few days, and as Nan mentioned, I am the boss.” Garth paused. “I’ll reassign some of your work. People will be expecting us to take some time off. You and I both probably spend too much time in front of a computer screen