I suspected that they weren’t really buying it,
and as the meal and the meeting came to a close, my suspicions were proved correct.
It was pointed out in plain English that neither my mother nor I seem to know if my name’s Janine or Janice.
Gaping holes and contradictions in my story were also pointed out.
“I don’t know who you are,
but what I do know is that you’re not who you claim to be.” the prestigious client said to me.
She turned to my mother and asked what was going on and Mum reluctantly confessed.
To make things worse,
the client was sipping her wine when my mother informed her that the supposed twenty-three-year-old personal assistant is in fact her sixteen-year-old son,
causing her to splurt through her wine in a most unladylike manner.