She answers right away. “No, why?” Her voice goes from a whisper to a normal voice. I hear her walking wherever she is.
“Well, he just texted me a picture of us from last night,” I fill her in. “It came through. Like I actually got his text.”
“Okay and …?” she asks, and I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is a dream; this has to be a dream or, better yet, a fucking nightmare. But then my eyes open, and I see it’s not a dream.
“I never gave him my number,” I tell her. “I gave him a number. All the fake numbers.”
She gasps and then laughs. “Oh my God, you have to marry him,” she sings with glee while I groan. “You said it yourself. If the guy finds your number, you’ll marry him.”
“I don’t have time for this. I have to be at my grandmother’s place in thirty-five minutes.” I don’t even bother answering or touching what she just said.
“Grandma Nancy,” she says, her voice full of love. “Bring her some flowers,” she says, then hangs up right after.
I slowly peel myself off my bed as I make my way to my walk-in closet. I grab my comfiest pair of black jeans, grabbing a white shirt with short sleeves that rests just above the top of the jeans. Gathering my hair, I tie it on top of my head in a high bun. I grab my purse, keys, and flip-flops. Bending down, I pick up a vase of roses in my arms and walk out of the house, trying not to fall. I walk as slowly as I can to my car, making sure I don’t smash into anything. The flowers cover half my eyes. I buckle the bouquet in the front seat before making my way over to my grandmother's senior living home.
I stop on the way to pick up our favorite burgers and fries. When I pull up to her home, I’m thankful she’s sitting outside in the front swing with four of her friends. She gets up as soon as she sees me park my car, waving and calling my name.
“Layla, honey.” She walks over, and I look her up and down. She is still a beauty with her wild and curly salt and pepper hair that falls in the middle of her back. Her bright gray eyes shine as she looks at me. She’s wearing a long orange dress with a bright yellow cover-up. The bangles on her arms clink when she spots the flowers and claps her hands together, each finger has a ring on it. It balances her aura, she always says. “Oh, you shouldn’t have, dear.” Her voice is soft and sweet.
“Can you grab the food?” I motion to the takeout bag that is on the floor of the car. She grabs the bag and my purse, then comes over to kiss my cheek. “Hi.”
“You look like the cat just dragged you in and licked your hair,” she says, and I laugh. She is full of all these strange sayings. She always had a saying about something. It’s one of the things I think I love most about her.
“Well, after the night I had …” I walk with her up her concrete walkway as she says hello to the people she sees. “I’ll take it.”
“Oh!” she squeals with excitement. “I want to hear all about it,” she tells me as she holds open the front door, and I step in and notice that all of her windows are open, and it looks foggy. I set the flowers on her glass table that is right off the small kitchen.
“What is that smell?” I ask her, looking around, and she smiles at me.
“I was making cannabutter this morning,” she says. “And well, one thing led to another. I forgot about it, and it’s burnt.”
“Grandma,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “What the hell were you doing that you forgot you had it in the oven?”
“It’s not what I was doing, dear,” she says, winking at me. “It’s who I was doing.”
“Oh my God,” I say, sitting down on one of the chairs before I fall on the floor. “That’s so gross.”
“I have needs,” she says, walking to the table. “And sometimes those needs get met by a real willie instead of the plastic one in my drawer.” Sitting down, she crosses her legs. Her feet are bare as they always are when she’s home.
“This is all too much,” I tell her, and she shrugs.
“Now, did you bring me a beyond meat burger?” she asks, grabbing the bag, and I nod my head. “Good.” handing her a fry and her beyond meat burger. My whole life, she has been the one who guided me and stood by my side. My parents had me when they were both sixteen. They were best friends, and one night, they dropped me off to her, then went off to party. I was six months old, and that night, I became an orphan. My parents were killed in a hit-and-run accident, leaving my grandmother to raise me. She didn’t bat an eye that she was fifty and now raising a child. She never made me feel that I stopped her from living. Instead, she said I was her second chance. Sure, she was unconventional, but so was life. “So tell me,” she says, grabbing a french fry. “How was your night?”
“Not as eventful as yours,” I say, taking a bite of the burger. “I mean, I spent twenty-five thousand dollars on a man.” I take another bite, and my grandmother looks at me.
“You spent twenty-five thousand dollars on a man, and you’re here?” She shakes her head. “Child, for that price, he better fan me after and feed me grapes.” She takes a bite of her burger. “He also wouldn’t be allowed to leave for a year.”
“It was a children’s auction.” I put my burger down and grab a fry, avoiding her eyes. “And those other women were bidding and …”
“And you got jealous and said not today, Karen.” She points at me. “That’s my girl. You go get your man.”
“He’s not my man, Grandma.” I push away from the table, going to get a bottle of water and spotting the brownies that are in the fridge. “I don’t like him at all. He gets on my nerves. He’s cocky.” I put up my finger. “He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s not my type.” Okay, fine, he is my type.
“Is he hot?” she asks me with a smirk.
I shrug and grab my phone, opening to a picture of the both of us that he sent us and handing it to her. “I don’t think so.” She grabs it from me and puts on her glasses that are hanging around her neck.
“Are you blind?” she asks me, looking at me and then zooming in on the picture or rather the crotch of his picture.
“Grandma,” I say, grabbing it from her. “I’m not blind. There is something about him that turns me off and makes me cringe.”
“You like him,” she says. “And you hate that you like him.”
“One, I don’t like him.” I put my phone down and grab the burger, so I don’t have to look into her eyes. Okay, fine, I might like him, or maybe I’m intrigued by him. Maybe I just need to have sex with him and be done with it. After that, the chase will be over, and he could move on and stop trying to get me to date him. “Two, I don’t like him.”
“You said that already.” She smiles, folding her hands together. “What else don’t you like about him?”
“Fine.” I throw up my hands. “This I can do. I can tell you all the ways I don’t like Miller.”
“I’m listening, dear,” she says.
“One, he’s pushy,” I finally say. “He’s always trying to get me to go out with him.” She rolls her eyes. “Two, he’s annoying. Three, he’s crass. He sent a picture of his penis to his whole friend list.”
She slaps the table, turning around to get her phone. “What friend list?” she asks. “Should I like him on Instagram, or is it the tik tok?”
“Grandma,” I snap at her and then lean back in my chair. “If you like him so much, get dressed and you can go out with him.”
She pushes away from the table and gets up. “Fine by me,” she says and walks into her bedroom. “You won’t have to ask me twice.”
I smile. “This is perfect,” I say, putting my hands together in front of my mouth. “Technically, I’m still going on a date with him. It’s just going to be through my grandmother,” I say to myself and look up when she sticks her head out of the bedroom.
“Panties or commando?” she asks me. “Should I go for easy access, or should I play hard to get?” She doesn’t even wait for me to answer. “I’ll see if you can see my panty lines and then decide,” she says, going to the ba
throom. I hear the shower turn on, and she walks back in naked. “I am going to rock his world.”
It’s my turn now to sit here with my mouth hanging open. Oh, God, maybe this isn’t a good idea, I think to myself, but when my grandmother comes out of her room thirty minutes later all dressed up, I don’t have the heart to tell her no. Her bright pink dress goes all the way to the floor, flowing around her legs. She walks over to grab the long yellow shawl she had before. She has a blue necklace and matching bracelets and rings.
“Honey, can you close the patio door for me,” she says, and I get up and close it while she grabs her purse. She is stuffing something into it, and she turns to me. “Let’s go so I can meet my man.”
“Yes, I can’t wait,” I say to her, and we walk out of the house arm in arm. She stops on the way to the car to inform everyone we see that she has a hot date tonight. She gets in the car and opens the window to let the fresh air in.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” I look over at her, and she just pats her purse.
“The question you should be asking …” She moves her hair away from her face. “Is he up for all this?” She uses her fingers to point at herself.
Chapter 8
Miller
I get out of the limousine as soon as the driver opens the door, and I smile at him. Okay, fine, maybe the limo was a touch extra, but what if she jumped my bones? I need to focus on one thing and one thing only. Her.
Walking up the steps toward her front door, I swear I feel like a kid on prom night. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is hammering in my chest. I look down and take a huge breath, and I press the doorbell. I put my head up and look at the stars, and then I hear the locks, and I wait for the door to open.
She stands there in black jeans and a white shirt. “Am I early?” I look at my watch and see I’m right on time. Okay, maybe she didn’t know how to dress on a first date. I look at my blue suit.
“No, you are right on time,” she says, smiling and then looks over her shoulder. “I’ll get your date,” she says.
“Wait, what is going on?” I ask her, confused.
“Grandma.” She sings her voice cheerfully, and I can tell she is really enjoying this. “Your knight in shining armor is here.”
“Layla.” I say her name, and I am definitely not ready for what comes next. A beautiful older woman comes to the door. She walks to the door like she’s on a catwalk, her curly hair is everywhere, and just with one look, I can see how Layla will look when she’s older.
“Grandma Nancy,” Layla says with a huge smile on her face. “This is your date, Miller.” Layla waits for me to freak out or something, and I just look at her. She wants the chase, I think to myself she is going to get the chase of her life, but she better be ready for when I catch her.
I step into the house and take Nancy’s hand and bend to kiss it. “The pleasure is all mine.” I wink at her, and she smiles.
“Well, if the pleasure was all mine, I have another place you can put those lips,” she says and stuns me by taking my face in her hands and kissing me right on the mouth. I pull away from her when her tongue tries to get into my mouth.
“Um,” I say, shocked, and Layla folds her hands over her chest.
“Well, don’t let me keep you two love birds.” Layla ushers her out the door. “I won’t wait up.” I glare at her right before she closes the door. I don’t even have time to think about it or to knock on the door and tell her that the joke is over before Nancy’s arm slides through mine.
“So, tell me, hotcakes.” She starts walking, and my feet follow her. “Where are you taking me?” I walk back down the steps I just rushed up feeling nervous. She spots the limo right away and yells with glee. Putting her hands to her mouth, she smiles. “I’ve never been in a limo before.” She jumps up and down and almost skips to the car, but she stops. “I’ve also never had sex in a limo before.”
I swallow down and put my hands in my pockets. “We can at least cross one of those things off your list.” I walk slowly to the car.
The driver holds open the door for her. “Pop the champagne.” She throws her hands up in the air. “If the car is a rocking, don’t come a knocking.” The driver rolls his lips to stop from laughing as he looks over at me, and I nod my head. He walks to the trunk where he opens it and brings out the bottle of champagne I made him bring. I actually ordered two bottles of champagne. He also brings out just the one glass that I packed.
The front door opens as soon as the bottle of champagne is popped, and I look over my shoulder to see Layla coming out. “Grandma,” she says, running to her, and I think she is about to tell me that I just got punked. She is going to come out and say gotcha and all of this was a joke, but she doesn’t. “You forgot your purse.” She hands her the purse. Turning, she walks to me. “I paid a lot of money for you,” she says, stopping in front of me. “You better make it worth it.”
I step into her, my hands ready to grab her hair and pull her head back and kiss the ever-loving shit out of her. I don’t even care that she might knee me in the balls. Actually, I’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t. “You can have your laugh now,” I tell her and see her eyes get a deeper shade. “But know this, gorgeous.” I step in, and our chests are practically touching. “At the end of the day, I’ll collect that date.” I lean my head in; she closes her mouth to swallow, and her breath hitches when she thinks I’m going to kiss her, but instead, I go to whisper in her ear. “You can bet on it.” I walk around her now, going to the limo where Nancy is on her second glass of champagne, slapping my hands together. “Let’s get the show on the road.”
“Yes, let’s,” Nancy says, grabbing the bottle of champagne from the driver and getting in the car. I step and look at the driver and then look over my shoulder, seeing Layla just watching.
“Whatever you do,” I say, my voice low. “You do not have the divider closed. I don’t know if you have a lock system in the front, but it doesn’t close.”
“I’ll handle it,” he says, nodding, and I get into the limo, and not one second later, Nancy is practically in my lap. I have to fend her off, and I feel like I’m kung fu panda.
“You need another drink,” I say, pointing at her empty glass and grabbing the bottle from the silver bucket. “So tell me about yourself, Nancy.” I pour her some champagne.
“I’m an open book,” she says, finishing the champagne, then holding out her glass for me to pour more. She slides herself close to me and puts a hand over my shoulder. Her finger taps my shoulder as I fill her glass. She crosses her legs and put one of her legs over mine. “Tell me something, hotcakes.” She takes a sip of the champagne. “Are you a grower or a shower or maybe a bit of both?” I am about to answer her when she keeps on talking, finishing the glass of champagne and then leaning over and placing it in one of the cupholders. “I think I need to find out,” she says, and I don’t have time to register what she says before her one hand flies to my cock, and the other one joins it. I try to protect my junk by trying to move her hands, but her face comes into my neck, and she licks me. She fucking licks me.
“Nancy,” I huff out as I try to push her off me.
“I love when you moan out my name,” she says, crawling onto my lap and straddling me. I put my hands on her hips to pick her up and move her off me.
“Nancy,” I say, and she tries to stick her tongue into my mouth, but I turn my head to the side. I put her in the spot next to me, and I try to get away from her, but she locks her legs around my waist. She grabs my shirt and tries to bring me closer to her. “Nancy.” I finally am able to push away from her, and this time, I sit as far away from her as I can. She looks as if she is going to come toward me, and I put my hand up. “Stay.”
“But what fun is it if I’m over here, and you are all the way over there. For twenty-five K, I better be able to see skin.” She winks at me. “I have a great idea.”
I sit back with my guard up as my head spins as I try to come up with ways to end this da
te or at least get out with a little bit of my dignity. “Great,” I say with a huge sigh. “What is this?”
“We should go painting.” She grabs her phone. “I know a great artist who has lots of space.”
“That sounds like fun.” I agree. It’s much better than the romantic gondola ride I had scheduled and then the picnic in the park under the stars. “I can do painting.”
“Great.” She claps her hands. “He’s waiting for us. He is going to have to charge double since it’s last minute.”
“That’s fine,” I say, agreeing as she types and then gives me the address. The driver looks at me through his rearview mirror and nods as he makes his way there.
“I shall finish this champagne,” she says, grabbing the bottle and filling her glass and then downing it. “It really goes down smooth, doesn’t it?”
“It should; it’s the best,” I tell her. “But I don’t think it’s good if you finish the whole thing. I mean …” I try not to bring up her age. “Are you on any medications?” I try to find the right words.
“Nope,” she says. “I’m as healthy as can be.” I smile at her, and she winks. “They call me the Energizer Bunny.”
“Is that so?” I nod again, and thankfully, the car comes to a stop.
She looks out the window at the white building. “Oh, good, we’re here.” She grabs her purse and is about to get out of the car when the door opens, and she stops to look at me. “Listen, before we get out, I should tell you that Luigi and I.” She starts and then looks out the front. “We’re friends.”
“That’s good to know,” I tell her.
“With certain benefits,” she says, and my mouth hangs open. “Sexual benefits.” She gets out of the limo, leaving me here in shock. But nothing could prepare me for the man who comes out of the door to greet her. He looks like he is in his early thirties. His long hair flows in the breeze. “Luigi,” she says, and he holds out his hand for her.
“Nancy.” He says her name in his thick accent. “This is a wonderful surprise.” He kisses her on both cheeks, and I get out of the limo. He looks over at me, and you can see he is checking me out up and down.
Only One Chance Page 5
