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Aira Blake had never thought of herself as the kind of woman who lied to her mother. Not really. A little white lie here and there, sure. Like when she said she *loved* the floral dress her mom bought her last Christmas. Or when she insisted that the café was doing just fine during the slow winter months. But telling her entire extended family that she had a boyfriend? That was a whole new level.
The worst part? She didn't even say it. Her mother did.
Now, she was stuck.
"Mom, you can't just tell people I'm bringing someone. What if I don't?" Aira said, holding her phone between her shoulder and cheek as she swept the front of her café.
"Oh come on, sweetheart. Just bring a friend. No one will ask questions. They just want to see you happy."
"I am happy."
There was a pause. "Aira, we both know that's not entirely true."
Her heart gave a soft thump. She looked out the large glass window. Maplebridge was quiet that morning. Soft rays of spring sunlight filtered through the clouds, casting a gentle glow over the cobblestone streets. The scent of coffee beans and vanilla muffins lingered in the air.
"I don't need a boyfriend to be happy," she said, voice lower now.
"I know. But… maybe you could use a little distraction."
Before Aira could protest again, her mom added a chipper, "See you Saturday!" and hung up.
She sighed, placing the broom against the counter. The town's annual Founders' Day dinner was a big deal in her family. Her cousin was bringing his fiancée. Her sister would no doubt arrive with her picture-perfect husband and their equally picture-perfect baby. And now, thanks to her mother, Aira was expected to show up with a man who didn't exist.
"Brilliant," she muttered.
That was when the bell above the café door chimed.
Aira turned, already putting on her best customer smile—only to freeze when she saw who had walked in.
Imran Carter.
Tall. Messy dark hair. Blue-gray eyes. Wearing a grey coat with just a hint of city polish. He looked like he belonged in a sleek London coffee shop, not her quiet, rustic corner of the world.
Aira blinked. "You?"
He grinned. "Me."
She hadn't seen him in over a year—not since college ended and life got busy. They weren't exactly best friends, but there was a history there. Study sessions that turned into late-night banter. Almost-flirtations that never quite crossed the line. And then… silence. Messages left on 'seen'. Birthday wishes unanswered.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, more surprised than she wanted to sound.
"Nice to see you too," he said with a chuckle, stepping further into the café. "I'm here for work. Visiting an old client nearby. Thought I'd drop in and grab a coffee."
"You knew I was here?"
He shrugged. "A little bird on Instagram might've told me."
Aira rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Well, welcome to 'Chapter & Brew'. Small town, smaller menu."
"Perfect," Imran said, scanning the chalkboard menu. "One cappuccino and… your time."
She raised a brow. "My time?"
"I saw your post last week about needing part-time help."
She blinked. "You want to work here?"
He laughed. "No, no. I meant your time. Like… to catch up. Maybe over coffee?"
Aira hesitated. This was not how her morning was supposed to go. But her mind was already racing with a ridiculous idea. Imran was charming. Easy on the eyes. Familiar, yet distant enough to not cause any real complications. And above all… he owed her.
"Well, since you're here…" she started slowly. "How do you feel about pretending to be my boyfriend for a weekend?"
He coughed. "Come again?"
Aira leaned on the counter, crossing her arms. "My mom told my entire family that I have a boyfriend. I'm expected to bring him to a family dinner this weekend. Problem is… I don't have one."
Imran blinked. "And you thought of me?"
"You're here. You're attractive. You're annoying, but tolerable. And I know you can lie—"
"Excuse me?" he laughed.
"—so you're perfect for the job."
He gave her a long look. "Pretend to be your boyfriend, huh? What's in it for me?"
"Free coffee for a week."
"Two weeks."
"A week and a slice of pie."
"Deal."
They shook hands.
And just like that, the arrangement was made.
As he sat at the window table, sipping his cappuccino like this was just another normal Tuesday, Aira couldn't help but wonder if she had just made a terrible mistake—or the beginning of something unexpectedly beautiful.
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