Mason Bennett’s corner office on the 40th floor of Boston’s most prestigious business tower offered a spectacular view of the harbor, but he wasn’t admiring the scenery. His eyes were fixed on his iPhone screen, where “Mom” flashed persistently. Six months of meticulous preparation had gone into the upcoming negotiations, and now, just weeks before the deal of his career, his mother had chosen this moment to begin her crusade for his happiness.
“Hi, Mom,” he answered reluctantly.
“Mason, darling!” Victoria Bennett’s voice carried that particular tone of maternal concern that made him wince. “I was beginning to worry. You usually answer on the second ring.”
“Sorry, Mom. I’m kind of in the middle of work.”
“Of course,” she clucked disapprovingly. “When aren’t you? You know, sweetheart, there’s more to life than spreadsheets and board meetings.”
Mason leaned back in his leather chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mom, I have these negotiations coming up. You know how important they are.”
“More important than your happiness? Than giving me grandchildren while I’m still young enough to enjoy them? Which is exactly why your father and I have made a decision,” Victoria continued. “We’re postponing our world tour.”
Mason sat bolt upright. “What? No, Mom, you can’t. You and Dad have been planning this trip for months.”
“Well, how can we possibly gallivant around the globe when our only son is working himself into an early grave? Instead of leaving next month, we’ll stay and spend some quality time with you.”
“Mom, please…”
“Mason Alexander Bennett, when you find a lovely young woman and settle down, then your father and I will feel comfortable traveling. Until then—”
“Actually,” Mason interrupted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them, “there is someone.”
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. “Someone?” Victoria’s voice had risen an octave. “Mason, are you telling me you’ve been seeing someone and didn’t tell your own mother?”
“I… I wanted to be sure before I said anything. It’s serious.”
“How serious?”
“Very,” Mason swallowed hard. “In fact, I was planning to introduce you to her soon. She’s… she’s my fiancée.”
An earpiercing squeal made Mason hold the phone away from his ear. “Your what?! Oh, this is wonderful! Richard! Richard, come quickly! Mason’s engaged!”
“Mom, please…”
“We must celebrate! Tomorrow night, dinner at L’Espalier! No excuses! Your father and I want to meet the woman who finally captured our boy’s heart. Oh, and Grace will be in town. Your godmother would never forgive us if we didn’t include her.”
Mason’s stomach dropped. Grace. His godmother had an uncanny ability to spot his lies. After ending the call, he stared out at the Boston skyline, his mind racing. He had exactly 24 hours to find someone willing to pose as his fiancée. Someone convincing enough to fool his family. “Impossible,” he muttered, then pressed the intercom button. “Olivia, could you come in here? I need your help with something personal.”
Olivia’s heels made no sound as she glided into Mason’s office. “How do you do that?” Mason asked, momentarily distracted.
“Do what, Mr. Bennett?”
“Move so silently in those stilettos. It’s like you’re floating.”
A slight smile touched her lips. “Years of practice, I suppose. Now, what personal matter did you need to discuss?”
Mason ran a hand through his hair. “I need you to pretend to be my fiancée.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Olivia’s professional demeanor cracked as she stared at him in disbelief. Mason quickly explained the situation.
Her face softened. “I’ve known your mother for three years, Mr. Bennett. She’s been nothing but kind to me. I cannot and will not participate in deceiving her,” she paused, then added gently, “even if it means losing my job.”
“Then perhaps you should consider telling your mother the truth,” she suggested.
“You don’t understand. If my parents cancel their trip, they’ll stay here, hovering. I’ll never get this deal done.”
“Well, Mr. Bennett,” she said, her posture perfect, “if you’re done proposing fake engagements, I have actual work to attend to.”
The parking garage was nearly empty when Mason finally left the office. Lost in thought, he almost didn’t see the figure stepping out from between two parked cars. His foot slammed on the brake, but not quite fast enough. There was a soft thud, followed by a startled cry.
“Oh God,” Mason muttered, jumping out of his car. “Are you all right?”
In the harsh fluorescent lighting, he saw her sprawled on the concrete. Despite her shabby clothes, there was something striking about her. Then she looked up, and Mason found himself staring into the most extraordinary green eyes he’d ever seen.
“What kind of person drives like that in a parking garage?” she demanded, wincing as she examined her scraped knee.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I was distracted.” He studied her more carefully. She carried herself with an innate dignity. “Please, let me take you to the hospital.”
“No hospitals,” she said firmly. “I’m fine.”
“At least let me…” Mason started, then stopped. An idea was forming in his mind—a crazy, impossible, perfect idea. “What’s your name?”
She hesitated. “Sophia.”
“Sophia,” he repeated. “Would you like to get some dinner? There’s a cafe around the corner. I’d like to make up for nearly running you over and, well, I have a business proposition that might interest you.”
She narrowed those remarkable eyes. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“No, no, nothing like that. This is completely legitimate. Just dinner and conversation.”
She studied him for a long moment. “Fine,” she said finally. “But we sit by the window where people can see us, and you keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Agreed.”
The cafe was quiet. “So,” she said after the waitress left, “what’s this business proposition?”
Mason took a deep breath. “I need someone to pretend to be my fiancée for a few weeks. I’ll pay well and help you get proper documentation.”
Sophia’s green eyes widened slightly at the mention of documentation but she quickly masked her reaction. “What makes you think I need documentation?”
“Just a guess. Am I wrong?”
She was quiet for a moment. “No,” she finally admitted. “You’re not wrong. But why would someone like you need a fake fiancée?”
Mason explained about his parents. As he spoke, he watched her face. She showed no judgment, just careful consideration.
“Before I even consider this,” she said slowly, “you should know what you’re getting into. I have no past, not officially. I don’t remember anything before I was five, except…” she stopped, her hands tightening around her coffee cup.
“Except what?”
“Being beaten. My first memory is of my adoptive parents hitting me with a belt. They weren’t my real parents. I was stolen, I think. We moved around constantly. When I was 14, they tried to marry me off to an old man with gold teeth. I ran away that night.”
Mason sat back, stunned. “Have you ever gone to the police?”
Sophia laughed bitterly. “With what proof? No birth certificate, no ID. I could help with that,” Mason said quietly. “Even if you don’t agree. But if you did, I could offer more. A fresh start. Education. Whatever you need.”
She was quiet for a long time. Finally, she turned back to him. “Your parents… they’re good people?”
“The best,” Mason said without hesitation.
“And this would only be for a few weeks?”
“Just until they leave for their vacation. Then you can take whatever help I’ve offered and disappear, if you want.”
Sophia took one last sip of her coffee. “I’ll do it. But I have conditions. I want everything in writing, and I want to learn everything about you before I meet them. I won’t risk getting caught in a lie.”
“Done,” Mason said, relief flooding through him. “We start tomorrow.”
Mason’s Greenwich mansion took Sophia’s breath away. He led her to a guest suite larger than any apartment she’d ever seen. The next morning, Mason woke to the smell of coffee. Sophia stood at the counter, wrapped in a white guest robe, her damp hair falling in waves. Clean and rested, she was stunning.
The afternoon shopping expedition was a remarkable success. She now looked every inch the sophisticated fiancée his mother would expect. That evening, Mason paced his living room, phone pressed to his ear.
“Yes, Mom, dinner tomorrow will be perfect. I can’t wait for you to meet…” He stopped abruptly, the color draining from his face. “Grace is coming?” He ended the call and sank into an armchair, looking shell-shocked.
“Your mother dropped a bomb?” Sophia asked.
“My godmother will be at dinner. This complicates things.”
“Why? One more person shouldn’t matter.”
“Grace is different. She has this ability to see right through me. Has since I was a kid.” He sighed heavily. “She lost her child years ago. Her partner took their baby and ran. There was an accident. They found his body, but the child… they never found the child. She’s like a second mother to me. This deception… it feels worse knowing she’ll be there.”
Sophia joined him at the window. “Don’t think about it as deception. Think about it as protecting your parents’ happiness.” She touched his arm lightly. “Don’t worry about tomorrow. I won’t let you down.”
The restaurant’s valet took Mason’s keys as he helped Sophia from the car. She wore a midnight blue designer dress that made her green eyes seem to glow. As they waited for his family, he found himself staring at her.
“You’re doing that again,” Sophia said softly.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you’re seeing a ghost.”
Before he could respond, a voice called out, “Mason, darling!” They turned to see Victoria Bennett approaching, pulling her husband, Richard, along.
“Mom, Dad…” Mason started, but Victoria had eyes only for Sophia.
“And this must be…” Victoria stopped abruptly, her face going pale as she stared at Sophia. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“Victoria?” a new voice joined them. “What’s wrong?”
Grace appeared beside them, and the world seemed to stop. She stared at Sophia, her own green eyes—identical to the younger woman’s—growing wide with shock. The color drained from her face.
“Sarah?” she whispered, using a name Sophia had never heard.
Mason looked between them, realization dawning. Sophia, confused, held out her hand politely. “I’m Sophia. It’s lovely to meet you all.”
Grace didn’t take her hand. Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she stepped closer. “Your shoulder,” she said, her voice trembling. “Please… do you have a birthmark? A crescent moon?”
Now it was Sophia’s turn to pale. Her hand unconsciously moved to her left shoulder, where beneath the expensive fabric lay the marking she’d had all her life. The world tilted on its axis as understanding crashed over them all.
The maître d’ quickly ushered them to a private dining room. Sophia sat rigidly, while Grace couldn’t stop staring at her.
“I don’t understand,” Sophia said finally.
Grace’s hands trembled as she withdrew an old photograph. “This was taken the day before… before you disappeared. You were only four.” She slid it across the table. Sophia stared at the image: a little girl with striking green eyes and a crescent moon birthmark clearly visible on her shoulder.
“Your father…” Grace’s voice caught. “He took you when I filed for divorce. There was an accident. His car went off the road. They found him, but you… they said you must have been thrown from the car.”
“The gypsies…” Sophia whispered. “They were traveling behind us. They found me.” Her earliest memory suddenly made horrible sense. The beating hadn’t been her first memory; it had simply been the first after the accident.
Victoria reached across the table. “I knew the moment I saw her. Those eyes… they’re exactly like yours, Grace.”
Mason watched the scene unfold, his original deception forgotten in the face of this miracle. His fake engagement had somehow led to reuniting a mother and daughter.
“I don’t even know what to call you,” Sophia said, tears streaming down her face.
“Your name was Sarah,” Grace said softly. “Sarah Grace Bennett. But you can be whoever you want to be now.”
Richard cleared his throat. “I believe this calls for champagne. And perhaps we should order. This is still a celebration, after all. Just a different kind than we expected.”
As the evening progressed, the initial shock gave way to careful questions and eventually, even laughter. Grace and Sophia began the delicate process of getting to know each other, two decades of separation slowly starting to bridge.
Later that night, as Mason drove Sophia—or Sarah—home, she was quiet. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“I keep thinking about what you said earlier, about helping me build a life. I never thought I’d have a chance at a real family again.”
“Life has a funny way of working out,” Mason said. “Though I should probably confess something to my mother about our ‘engagement’.”
Sophia laughed, the sound full of joy and possibility. “Maybe wait a few months on that one.”
Six months later, they didn’t have to pretend anymore. Mason and Sophia were married in a small ceremony, with Grace beaming proudly as she walked her daughter down the aisle. What had begun as a scheme to appease his parents had become something far more precious: a chance for two lost souls to find not only each other, but also the truth that had been waiting to be discovered all along.