I smile appreciatively at him, instantly warming to him. “He’s told me wonderful things about the two of you too. Yet he seemed to leave out the part that you knew about me,” I reply, turning my head and lifting a brow at him. “Although, I have to admit I’m grateful he did.”
Nate leans over and kisses my cheek before turning back to his plate, and everyone digs in. It’s all way more relaxed than I imagined it would be; everyone has table manners, but it’s not the scene out of The Princess Diaries I thought I would be stepping into, where I’d play the role of the clueless Mia while she tries to fake her way through using the proper utensils. There’s only one fork, one spoon, and a steak knife next to each of our plates. There’s even a community butter knife set on top of the big plastic tub of butter in the center of the table. I stare at it for a moment, finding it weird when we’re sitting in the largest estate in Black Mountain. Shouldn’t the butter be in perfect little pallets in some fancy dish? Especially in a house full of men who literally fear imperfection?
“My momma was a nurse, and my dad was a miner, sweet girl. This house is a mix of my meager beginnings and my Nathaniel’s fancy upbringing,” Mrs. Black tells me, easily reading my unspoken wonderings.
I smile at her across the table. “That has to get pretty confusing, in a house with men who all have the same name.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “No, Dad is Nathaniel, and son is Nate. It just makes life a lot easier around here,” she explains.
“Noted,” I say, relaxing a bit knowing she came from the same humble background as I did. “I am curious though. How…” I side-eye Nate. “How did you first learn about me exactly?”
“Well,” she begins, “at first there were subtle differences in Nate himself. He started complimenting me on things he never had before—”
“Sorry, Mom,” Nate inserts, sounding guilty.
“Oh, hush, honey. What teenage boy is going to remember to tell his mother how great her cooking is every day? It was just a nice and noticeable difference that just suddenly began out of nowhere. And then more obvious things, like his OCD symptoms lessening day by day,” she explains, and I nod, knowing what she means by that. “And then—” Her voice rises on the word, and she smiles over at her husband, who winks at her as he chews. “—the insurance claim letter came from a Dr. Neil Walker in a town an hour away from here.”
My eyes widen, and I look over at Nate, who just chuckles. “Yeah, didn’t even think about that, baby. I am only eighteen, after all,” he murmurs, and I choke on my water I just lifted to my mouth. He laughs, rubbing my back, and I swat at him.
Mrs. Black is smiling ear-to-ear when I look up again. “So when we asked Nate about it, he started spilling everything.”
“Everything?” I squeak, turning wide eyes to Nate then back to her.
“Everything!” his mom says loudly through a giggle at the same time Nate whispers so only I can hear, “Not everything, mouse.” And I relax a bit.
“He said he had met someone he had real feelings for. Which alone would’ve made my day, seeing as our son has always claimed not to have any.” She shakes her head at him. “And then he told us about your own anxiety disorder and how medications and such never worked for you, just like him, but this one therapist you’ve been seeing for years used a method that finally succeeded in helping you. He said he agreed to go with you to check him out, and might I say, whatever that man is doing in that office is miracle work. Hell, I might have to go check him out myself!” she chirps, and I choke on the roll I just took a bite of.
“Sweet girl, you sure seem to be having a hard time eating. You feeling all right? What happened back in the assistant principal’s office isn’t still messing with your nerves, is it? I get a nervous belly too, but I promise you’ve got nothing to worry about as far as that stuff goes. We won’t let anything happen to the woman who has changed our son’s life for the better,” Mrs. Black says, and my heart warms at her caring tone. I just can’t tell her that no, I don’t have a nervous belly; I was just startled by the image of Nate’s parents showing up at Club Alias.
Not that Doc would ever let that happen. He’d never reveal the form of therapy that’s truly working on Nate and me, except to maybe disclose that it’s technically systematic desensitization, but nothing about the BDSM side of things.
“I truly appreciate that, Mr. and Mrs. Black. This is my dream job, and I… I didn’t mean to get involved with one of my students. He just—”
“Oh, we know, Evie. He told us how he wooed you until you finally could no longer resist his charms and agreed to go on one secret date with him. He promised that if you didn’t want to see him again, he would leave you alone and never tell anyone about it at school,” she interrupts, and I slowly turn my head to meet the eyes of the scoundrel next to me as his nostrils flare, mischief filling his eyes as he tries to hold back his laughter. Mrs. Black continues on. “I can tell you right now, honey. No one can resist the charms of the Black men. Trust me, I tried.”
Mr. Black clears his throat. “But that’s a story for another day, my
