Page 7 of Too Good to Be True

The waiter chuckled nervously. “Uh…”

“Just ignore her,” Stacy said apologetically.

“I was taught that it’s impolite to discuss a woman’s age.”

They all beamed at him because, hello, how sweet was this young man?

“What if we guess how old you are instead?” Kelsey said.

“Go right ahead.”

Stacy gave him credit for humoring them. Of course, maybe he was doing it to ensure himself a good tip.

“I’ll say twenty-five,” said Kelsey. “Paige?”

Paige scrunched up her face while she mulled it over. “I’ll guess twenty-six. Stacy?”

She couldn’t believe they were doing this, but then again, her friends were a motley crew. Besides, it was a Friday night after a long workweek, and they were just having some innocent fun.

“I’ll go with twenty-seven,” she said, choosing Fran’s nephew’s age to see how it compared.

“You’re all wrong. I’m twenty-nine.”

“So are we,” Kelsey said, and they all laughed since none of them were under thirty.

After he walked away to get them another round, Stacy went back to their original conversation.

“So, neither of you see a problem with this?”

“No. Just do what Fran said and treat him like any other student.”

“I guess this means we’ll have to invite him to come out with us next Friday,” Paige muttered.

“Or we just stay in,” said Stacy.

“What? We shouldn’t have to change our plans because of Fran’s pursed-lipped nephew,” Kelsey huffed.

“In all fairness, he might not have pursed lips,” Paige said.

“He might have her red hair, though.”

“I don’t think that’s her natural color,” Stacy said. “Wait a minute. Now I sound as bad as you two. That’s it. We’re done talking about this.”

“At least until Monday,” said Kelsey.

“I can’t wait,” Stacy muttered.

Three

The workday started at eight o’clock, but it was already eight thirty, and Fran still hadn’t shown up with Nick. In the meantime, Kelsey had been sending obnoxious text messages, asking if he had pursed lips and red hair or looked like Brad Pitt. Finally, Stacy had shut off her phone and turned her attention to answering work emails instead.

“Good morning, Stacy. I’d like you to meet my nephew, Nick Perez.”

Stacy’s back was to the door, and she swiveled her chair around at the sound of Fran’s voice. Fran was partially blocking him, and when she stepped to the side, Stacy almost gasped.

Nick Perez looked absolutely nothing like his aunt! His full (not pursed) lips spread into a warm smile, and his perfectly aligned teeth glowed under the office lights. There was not a single red hair on his head. Au contraire! He had a full head of dark brown hair and matching, close-cropped beard. While Fran was fair-skinned and blue-eyed, Nick was caramel-colored, with deep chocolatey-brown orbs. Seeing them side by side, you’d never guess they were related.

Finally, Stacy remembered herself. She stood up and walked around her desk with her hand outstretched. “Hello, Nick. It’s very nice to meet you.” Hopefully, she hadn’t overstressed the word very.