I can understand her not wanting her mother to meet me and get the wrong idea, but once I give her the present Linc and I spent all day shopping for, I’m hoping she’ll see that I’m serious and rethink what we have. Maybe then I can meet her mother. I of course want her to meet my family too, especially Grandma, but I’d never bring her to this pretentious bull shit party.
I stare at my phone, but no reply comes. I haven’t heard much from her since she told me how well her phone interview went with Dean Saunders. She’s going to get a full ride, and he’s setting her up with some firms for their internship programs. She’s spent many hard years working for this and now it’s all in the palms of her hands. I’m happy that I could help the girl who never asks for help.
A rap comes on my door and before I can get to it, the knob turns and in walks Chelsea. She smiles and glances at the white-knuckled grip I have on my phone. “Are you coming down or are you going to play on your phone all night?” I stand, shove my phone into the front pocket of my dress pants, and she puts her hands on my chest to straighten my tie. “You clean up nice, Christian.”
I laugh, and take in her tight black dress. It’s low in the front, showcasing a hell of a lot of cleavage. “Like what you see?” she teases.
I was simply observing, not ogling. Christ, after Maize, all other girls pale in comparison, but I’m not rude, so I say, “You look nice, Chelsea.”
“Nice,” she says as her eyes narrow in on me. She spins to show me her body. “I think you could do better than that.”
“Christian…oh…” Mom goes still when she sees Chelsea in the room with me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were up here, Chelsea.” She smiles at the girl she believes would make me a suitable wife. “I was just checking to see if you were coming to the party.”
“I was just on my way.”
I wave my hand for Chelsea to exit first and we follow Mom down the stairs and into the living room. I grin when I see Linc, and step up to him. “Surgery canceled? Spleen still intact?”
He laughs and hands me his beer. I take a big drink as he says. “You owe me one, bud.”
He’s dressed in a nice suit and tie, and he hates suits and ties. I can’t help but think something is up. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Heard a rumor.” He frowns and shakes his head.
I eye him. “Do I want to know?”
“It involves you, so probably.”
“I’m going to need a drink for this.” I head to the bar and the man attending it pours two shots of tequila. We both knock them back.
“Chelsea wants you back,” he tells me. “She made it perfectly clear at the pub the other night after you left. Gave hands-off warnings to her girlfriends.”
“I had a feeling something was going on with her. It doesn’t make sense, though. Why now?”
“Apparently, her boyfriend broke it off, and she’s devastated. Graduating from college, no ring on her finger when many of her friends are engaged.”
“She’s barking up the wrong tree, dude.”
“I know, but I thought you’d need a wingman tonight to help out. Chelsea has a way of always getting what she wants.”
The bartender pours us another shot and we toss them back. He then hands us a couple beers from the fridge. My phone pings, and I snatch it from my pocket, hoping it’s from Maize, but it’s not. It’s from our coach, sending out a group message reminding us to make good choices and stay fit over the holiday. I laugh just as Linc’s phone pings with the same message.
I’m about to shove my phone in my pocket when someone bumps me, and it falls to the floor. I reach for it, but Mrs. Jackson puts her hand on my chest and gives me an apology, although I have a feeling she banged into me on purpose.
“I’ve got it,” Linc tells me as he reaches for my phone while Mrs. Jackson keeps hold of me and drags me across the floor to say hello to her granddaughter. I cast a pleading glance over my shoulder, a cry for help, but Linc just shrugs and takes another drink of his beer. Some wingman he’s turning out to be, but he’s here to run interference with Chelsea and there’s no rescuing anyone from Mrs. Jackson. She pretends to be a little old lady, but she’s a shark with pointy teeth and right now she is trying to matchmake. Why does everyone think I need to be set up? I can get girls perfectly fine on my own. Sure, I let them know it can’t go anywhere, but who I see, who I take to my bed, is my decision, not anyone else’s.
“Katherine is all grown up,” Mrs. Jackson says to me. “You’d hardly recognize her, but trust me, you two would make the cutest couple.” She taps a blonde on the shoulder and she turns. Katherine smiles at her grandmother, until she realizes her grandmother has her arm latched around mine in a death grip, in case I try to run, I assume. “Katherine, you remember Christian?”
She nods. “I do. Nice to see you again.”
“You too.” I haven’t seen her since I went off to Kingston and she was a junior in high school. She was pretty then, still pretty now. Her shyness hasn’t changed either.
Mrs. Jackson releases
