Chapter 323
**Sara**
"No, I made it up because I love watching you stress out." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. I was there when he proposed."
Charles pulled into the bakery's parking lot, sliding into an empty spot. "And there's nothing going on between-"
"Between what?" I cut him off, already dreading where this conversation was heading.
"You and this Daniel guy." Charles drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Is he your boyfriend? Or maybe it's just a casual thing? Or are you living together and-"
"I will punch you in the face." I leaned forward, jabbing my finger at him. "I'm telling you right now, Charles Parker, I will rearrange your features if you finish that sentence. Daniel is just a friend. F-R-I-E-N-D. He's marrying Sophia in a few months, and I'm taking you to their wedding just to prove it."
"Alright, alright! No need for violence. I was just asking."
"Just asking," I mimicked his tone playfully. "Like you were 'just asking' about my coffee barista four years back? Or the delivery guy before that?"
"Hey, someone has to look out for you."
"Look out for me?" I snorted. "The only thing you need to look out for is my fist connecting with your nose if you don't drop it."
Charles glanced at his watch, then at the bakery's entrance. "Where is Melissa? She's been in there forever."
"Maybe she escaped through the back door." I grinned. "Finally realized what she was getting into with you."
"Very funny." He squinted at the storefront. "Should I go check on her?"
"Aww, worried your actress got lost between the croissants and baguettes?"
"Sara, I swear-"
"Fine, fine." I held up my hands in surrender. "I'll behave when your totally real girlfriend returns."
The bakery door chimed and out stepped a woman carrying two boxes tied with red ribbons. The sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted into the car as she slid the boxes onto the seat next to me.
"Hi, Sara!" Melissa beamed, settling into the passenger seat. "So good to see you again!"
I squinted at her, tilting my head. "Wait... weren't you blonde last time? And shorter? Or was that Madison? No, wait - Emilia?"
Charles's jaw clenched. "Sara..."
"I'm just trying to keep track," I said innocently. "Remember that brunette from Easter? Emma? Or was it Sophie? The one who kept talking about her cat collection?"
Melissa turned to Charles, her smile faltering. "Cat collection? What's she talking about?"
"Nothing, she's just-"
"Oh!" I snapped my fingers. "Maybe I'm thinking of Alice! You know, the one from Christmas? With the purple highlights?"
"Purple highlights?" Melissa's voice went up an octave. "Charles, who had purple highlights?"
"No one had-"
"Or was that Sarah-with-an-h?" I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "The yoga instructor? No, wait, that was the one from Thanksgiving..."
"Yoga instructor?" Melissa's eyes narrowed. "How many girls have you been bringing to family dinners?"
"I haven't-" Charles started.
"What about Patricia?" I interrupted. "The professional dog walker? Or was she the one who read palms?"
Charles gripped the steering wheel so hard I thought it might snap. "Sara, I swear to God-"
"Charles Parker!" Melissa turned fully in her seat. "Have you been dating multiple women?"
"No! She's making it up!"
"Am I?" I gasped. "So you're saying Linda, the librarian, was just my imagination?"
"There is no Linda!"
"Really?" I leaned forward. "Then who brought that amazing potato salad last summer?"
"That was me!" Melissa exclaimed. "I brought the potato salad!"
"Are you sure?" I frowned. "Because I distinctly remember Linda saying it was her grandmother's recipe..."
"It was MY grandmother's recipe!"
"Oh." I paused. "Then who was the one with the pet iguana?"
Charles slammed his palm against the steering wheel. "There was never an iguana!"
"Now you're denying Ziggy's existence?" I clutched my chest in mock horror. "That poor iguana..."
"I can't believe this," Melissa said, crossing her arms. "Have you been lying to me this whole time?"
"Of course not!" Charles shot me a death glare. "Sara's just being..."
"Being what?" Melissa demanded. "Because it sounds like you've had quite the parade of women at these family dinners!"
I sat back, watching them argue like it was the best reality show ever produced. Charles's face had turned an impressive shade of red while Melissa kept listing off all the supposed other women's attributes I'd invented.
"And this Sarah-with-an-h," she continued, "did she really teach yoga?"
"There is no Sarah-with-an-h!" Charles's voice cracked. "Or Linda, or Emma, or Alice, or anyone else! Sara's making it all up!"
"Then why didn't you say that from the start?" Melissa challenged.
"I've been trying to, but-"
"But what? You needed time to get your story straight?"
I couldn't hold it in anymore. A snort escaped, then a giggle, then full-blown laughter.
They both turned to stare at me.
"I'm sorry," I wheezed between laughs. "I'm just kidding. There are no other women. It's always been you, Melissa. Same person, same amazing cook, same everything. I was just messing with Charles because he made me sit in the back seat."
Melissa's expression shifted from anger to confusion to understanding. "So... there's no yoga instructor?"
"Nope. No librarian, no dog walker, no palm reader, and definitely no iguana named Ziggy."
"Sara!" Charles looked ready to explode. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"That's what you get for making me wait twenty minutes and then banishing me to the back seat." I grinned. "Consider us even."
Melissa started laughing, too. "You had me going there for a minute. I was ready to dump him right here in this parking lot."
"See?" Charles gestured wildly. "This is what she does! She's evil!"
"Evil genius," I corrected. "And you love me for it."
"I'm seriously reconsidering that right now."
"No, you're not." I reached forward and patted his shoulder. "Now drive. We're already late for dinner, and Mom will blame me even if it's your fault."
"You're right; it is my fault," Charles said, pulling out of the parking lot. "My fault for having such a demon for a sister who nearly destroyed our cute relationship with her made-up stories."
"First of all, eww. Second of all, you two aren't cute." I wrinkled my nose. "You're that couple that makes everyone else at restaurants lose their appetite with your baby talk."
"We don't do baby talk!" Melissa protested, but her cheeks flushed pink.
"Oh really?" I leaned forward between the seats again. "What about last Christmas when you called him 'snuggle-pumpkins' in front of the entire family?"
Charles swerved slightly. "She didn't-"
"She absolutely did. Right before you called her 'honey-bunny-sweetie-pie.' I had to excuse myself to throw up in Mom's prized petunias."
"Those petunias died the next day," Charles muttered.
"Exactly. Even the flowers couldn't handle your level of saccharine."
Melissa turned in her seat. "We're not that bad!"
"Last Thanksgiving," I counted off on my fingers, "you fed each other pie. At Easter, you wore matching outfits. And don't get me started on the Valentine's Day incident with the singing telegram."
"The singing telegram was romantic!" Charles protested.
"The delivery guy quit his job afterward. Said he'd rather deliver death notices than ever witness that level of cringe again."
"At least we're in love and getting married soon," Charles shot back, his smug grin visible in the rearview mirror. "Unlike someone who's eternally 'searching for the right one.' How many times have you promised to bring someone to a family dinner? I've lost count."
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