Just Go With It
Chapter 2
I wasn't going to tell anyone about my run-in with Miles, mostly to avoid reliving that moment, but also to avoid the teasing and incredulity that would follow that revelation. Unfortunately, my family religiously watched all of my news stories, so there was no hiding it from them.
I was bombarded with questions as soon as I walked into my childhood home. Even if I'd wanted to answer them, I couldn't, because they came all at once, particularly from my mom and little sister. My older sister, Natalia, even chimed in via FaceTime, all the way from Hawaii on her honeymoon.
Didn't she have better things to do, like oh, I don't know, relax on the beach, go swimming, finally bang her new husband? They'd decided to wait until marriage to have sex, so I was sure that had to be a top honeymoon priority for them.
Instead, Nat joined in on the badgering. They all wanted to know how Miles had ended up being a part of my story, who that girl was, why I hadn't tried to rekindle the flame, if I thought he still had feelings for me, if I still had feelings for him, if this was why I was still single.
The sound of the doorbell ringing saved me from going down that rabbit hole. Fridays were pizza night in this house, a longstanding tradition no one dared break, even with two of the three Vega girls all grown up. I jumped up from my seat before anyone else could. "I'll get it." I breathed out a small sigh of relief as I walked to the door, grateful for the interruption, grabbing the pizza money on the counter on my way.
My new city was only an hour away from my hometown, so I tried to visit as often as my work would allow. Friday nights were usually hard to swing, but I'd requested this one off from the bar I worked at part-time with my roommate/best friend. Zoey had graciously agreed to work in my place and keep the college students who frequented the place drunk and happy.
I regretted my decision about 45 minutes into my visit, after the pizza was long-gone and could no longer serve as a distraction. The dialogue had once again shifted from Miles to my current love life, or lack thereof, and suddenly, being asked to pour shots into a drunk frat guy's mouth sounded a lot more appealing than the intervention my visit was turning into.
"You know, when I was at Zumba the other day, one of the girls was telling me about her son," my mom said, her voice a little too nonchalant. "He's single. And he's about to graduate from law school."
"Mom," I said. The word came out as a warning.
"She showed me a picture on her phone. He's cute, too," she went on, as if I hadn't said anything. "And his mom says you're just his type."
"Alessia is someone's type?" Gabby interjected from her seat in the living room, without looking up from the iPad that was monopolizing her attention, the way most 11-year-olds seemed to spend their time nowadays.
"Very funny, Gabriella." I said her name pointedly.
She didn't answer, instead making a vomiting sound at my use of her full name, still not bothering to look up from whatever it was that she was doing on her tablet. Probably drawing or watching TikToks or making her Pocket Camp villagers cry.
"Nat was telling me one of Elijah's coworkers is single, too," my mom went on, still doing her best to sound casual. "One of his doctor coworkers."
I looked to my dad for help, but he just shrugged. "I'll, uh, be over there, if you need me." He nodded towards the recliner and made his escape, pretending my look hadn't been a cry for help.
"She said she could set something up for you guys after she gets back from Hawaii," my mom continued as I watched my traitorous father settle into his chair for a nap. He'd be out like a light in less than 30 seconds. How he could sleep, knowing he'd left me with the wolves was beyond me. "She'll be back next week."
I bit the inside of my lip as I stared out at the living room. This wasn't the first time Nat and my mom had dangled Elijah's successful friends in front of me like a piece of cheese in front of a chunky mouse on a treadmill. It should've been a perk of my sister marrying a doctor, right? But it no longer seemed like it.
I don't know what was different about that night. I was used to the questions and the matchmaking attempts, from my mom and from my sisters, and even from my extended family. I couldn't tell you how many times I'd been roped into going on a blind date that turned out to be an ode to the disaster that was my love life.
There was the guy with the foot fetish, the one with the creepy doll collection, the artist who asked to "paint me like one of his French girls" five minutes into the date (he even brought an easel)... the list went on.
This topic of conversation was nothing new, but all of a sudden, I decided I'd had enough. But instead of letting out all of my pent up frustration and asking them to give me space to figure out my love life on my own—what I probably should have done—I went a different route.
I lied. I lied my ass off.
"I wasn't going to say anything because it's still so new, but... I'm actually seeing someone," I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady and believable.
That made Gabby pop up from her nook in the living room, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. "Wait, what? You are not. You would've told us already."
"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"
"Shut up," she said, throwing her tablet aside and rushing over to the island in the kitchen, where my mom and I were sitting. "You're lying."
"Is it that hard to believe I could be seeing someone?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. I just thought you told us everything."
"Well, I said it's new," I said, trying to keep my voice gentle. I wasn't sure how she'd managed to make me feel bad about not telling her about my fictitious boyfriend earlier, when he hadn't even existed a minute ago, but she had. "I just didn't want to say anything in case it didn't work out."
Gabby chewed on her lip, staring up at me with sparkling brown eyes. "So who is he? What's his name? Is he cute?" she asked, cutting my mom off from the question she was about to ask, no doubt along the same lines.
I hoped the panic I felt wasn't evident on my face. What was I doing? This was insane. I couldn't keep up a ruse like this. What was I supposed to do when they asked to see a picture of him, or meet him? I could only put that off for so long. Plus, they were my family. Why was I lying to them? Surely it would've been easier to just ask them to back off a little.
My mouth didn't seem to care about the torrent of concerns crashing around in my head. "His name is Logan," I said, as if I hadn't just decided this was a terrible idea, one I should immediately reconsider and rectify. "Logan West."
It was the first name that popped into my head, although I couldn't tell you why. The only Logan I knew was the one from 'Gilmore Girls.' I guess the two had a lot in common, namely that neither of them was real. As for where the West part came from, I had no idea. It just came to me.
"He sounds cute," my mom said, appearing intrigued and, dare I say it, impressed. Don't get me wrong; lying about my love life wasn't the only way to get her to look at me like that. Her main hobby was bragging about her three daughters: the nurse, the journalist, and the child prodigy. Meddling in my love life came second to that pride. "What does he look like? What does he do?"
"He's in business, and he's kind of... ridiculously good-looking," I said. If I was going to lie, might as well go big or go home, right? "Honestly, he's way out of my league and will probably come to his senses one of these days, but I'm enjoying the ride until then." Oh, God, that sounded dirty. Did it come across as dirty? Had I just sullied my child sister's ears?
Luckily, it seemed to go over their heads. "Oh, stop that," my mom said. "Have you forgotten what I always tell you girls?"
"If you got it, flaunt it, but only flaunt one thing at a time?" That was mom's cardinal rule, although Gabby was too young to follow it. For example: if you're going to show off cleavage, don't show off your ass, and if you're going to show off your ass or legs, keep the girls covered. Except I didn't have much cleavage to flaunt, so it was all ass, all the time. I didn't have a J-Lo or Kim K. level backside, but I liked to think the time I spent suffering on the stair stepper at the gym was worth it.
That made her pause. She held up a finger, hesitated, and then said, "Yes, but no. You have to be your biggest cheerleader. Well, second biggest, after me. Honey, you are smart, and beautiful, and sweet, and a good, family-oriented girl. He's the one who should be worrying you'll find something better, not you."
The guilt was back, materializing as heat creeping up my face. I was only a minute into my lie, and I was already having second, third, and fourth thoughts, but what was I supposed to do? Say oh, sorry guys, I was just kidding? I couldn't. It was too late. I had to commit.
Unable to form words, I just smiled gratefully at her.
"So what's he like?" Gabby asked, settling down on a barstool. She put her elbows on the counter, propping her face up with her hands.
"He's charming," I said, trying not to lay it on too thick. I had to keep it somewhat believable. "The kind of guy you can't help but notice when he walks into a room, and the kind you try to resist, but can't."
My mom raised her eyebrows at that.
"I don't mean like that," I said quickly, feeling the heat return to my face. "I just mean he's the kind of guy you convince yourself you shouldn't fall for, but you do, because he's different from what you thought he was."
"It sounds serious," my mom said, surprise in her tone.
Uh-oh. I'd laid it on too thick, after all. I could see the gears turning in her head, no doubt calculating when she might see her second daughter walk down the aisle, arm in arm with my teary-eyed father. "Oh, no, we're still getting to know each other. That's just my impression of him, anyway."
"Uh-huh," Gabby said, looking at me carefully. "Well, when can we meet him?"
I froze in my seat. Goddammit. I knew this was going to happen. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep them happy with just a description of him. This wasn't the olden times, where you could just fake a love letter and call it a day. I just didn't think it'd happen this fast. "I don't know. I don't think we're quite there yet."
"Can we see what he looks like, at least?"
I opened my mouth and closed it. I was sure my ruse was about to be unfoiled when my phone rang, saving my lying ass. "Hold that thought." I looked down at the caller ID. It was my boss. "Hello?"
"Alessia, sorry to bother you," she said. "We're down a dayside reporter for tomorrow. Can you fill in? It's overtime approved."
"Oh, um..." I trailed off, thinking it over for a moment. I had a shift at the bar tomorrow night, but if this was a dayside shift, I could technically pull it off. It would just suck immensely.
"We could really use your help," she went on. There was also an unspoken message in the way she said it: being a team player could help you get on the desk faster. It was what most reporters dreamed of: trading the stick microphone out in the field for a clip-on microphone at the anchor desk. No more lugging around equipment in the summer heat. No more doors slammed in my face. No more near-encounters with dangerous animals. No more randomly running into my ex.
"Yeah. Sure. I can do it." I could use all the brownie points I could get. Plus, that overtime pay wouldn't hurt, and it gave me an excuse to leave without getting caught in my own web of lies.
"Perfect. I'll put you down on the schedule."
After hanging up, I looked up at my mom and Gabby, hoping they couldn't see the relief on my face. "I've gotta head out. I got called into work tomorrow morning so I'm pulling a double."
"You're working both jobs tomorrow?" my mom asked, her eyes filling with concern. "You're working too much, mija. You're going to burn yourself out."
"I'll be fine," I said. Seeing the look on her face, I added, "If it gets to be too much, I'll quit bartending and focus on reporting. I promise."
My mom reluctantly nodded, while Gabby pouted as she watched me gather my things. "How am I supposed to sleep knowing you have a boyfriend and I don't even know what he looks like?"
"I'll show you some other time, okay?"
I'd show her... after giving myself enough time to come up with a solution. Maybe I could use a photo of some obscure male model from the internet. I had said he was ridiculously good-looking, after all. Or maybe I could convince someone to take a picture with me and pretend to be my boyfriend, except that was just sad. Better yet, maybe I'd realize I was in over my head and say we broke up before it became a problem.
"Tell Logan we said hi, okay?" Gabby called out to me as I left.
"Okay," I said, not daring to turn back and see the hopeful look on her face.