by Amiee Smith
“Come on, Lilly. Leave the science at work.”
“The work I can’t do if we’re together?”
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk to peer at him. A runner whizzes around us.
“I never said you couldn’t do your work. I mean, I guess in a way I did. But I didn’t realize how screwed up the deal was for you… and for me.”
“For you?” I scoff.
“Yeah, a little fairy came to L.A. to visit me. She explained the Universe gifted me with an amazing woman who wants to eradicate disease. Since mine is incurable, I fucked myself over with our agreement. I’m usually better at making deals. I blame your beautiful cunt. It causes my head to go nuts… or skeet. I like both. But I’m less thoughtful in those moments,” Michael says with a big grin.
I briefly cover my smile with my hand. This. Man.
“We weren’t having sex when we made our agreement.”
“No, but you were straddling me during the negotiation. Since you’re a fan of the dry hump, it counts.”
“I only did that once. And I’m not sure I really did it.”
“No, babe, you do it every morning. Your pillows must feel overworked since we broke up.”
Placing my palm on his chest, I laugh. Uncontrollably. Tears form at the corner of my eyes. I never laugh like this in the morning— not after spending twelve hours in the lab.
“Cute couple,” a dark man in purple daisy dukes and big white headphones says as he powerwalks his way down the street.
The chorus of Alanis Morrissette’s “Head Over Feet” plays in my mind. Michael’s hands circle my waist.
Pressing his lips to my ear, “See, we’re a hit. We’ve got to give it another run. I’ll keep up this time. Let’s start again.”
I sigh. “No, Michael. I can’t be your girlfriend again. I want to be. But I can’t. I need to stay focused on my work,” I say, savoring his touch for the last time.
“Good. I don’t want you to be my girlfriend again. Like you said, it didn’t work the first time.”
“I’m not doing a Brit + Alex thing with you. Even if you are exceptionally talented with your mouth.”
“No, beautiful Lilly. I want to do a Jen + Jon thing with you. Since we don’t have an agreement anymore, I don’t need to wait 20 dates. Marry me?”
My eyes search his for some humor, but he’s totally sincere. And nervous, his heart pounds against my palm.
“I don’t want to plan a wedding and I don’t want to do the steps to convert to Judaism. I really am too busy.”
“Keep up, babe. That was under the agreement. We don’t have an agreement anymore.”
“Michael, you were such a jackass to me. And why did it take you almost a week to get here?”
“I know and I’m deeply sorry. I made the mistake of believing you couldn’t be a badass scientist and my wife. I thought you were choosing your work over me. And I knew… no amount of money could compete with your ambitions. I felt like a freakin’ loser because I couldn’t compete. I couldn’t keep up. But the fairy helped me understand that there is no competition. There is nothing to run against. You will be as fierce about our relationship and family as you are about the science. And math. And GTA. And dominoes. And bowling. I temporarily forgot you are a Goddess who can not only bring me to my knees but teach me to run free.”
Decisions are a hell of a drug. Powerful. Life changing. Defining. No decision is right or wrong, but it is the act of deciding that will forever place me in the driver's seat of my life. Standing in front of the building Michael owns with the garish light sculpture that illuminates my after-dark walks to the shuttle stop, I decide to love Michael through it all. I’ve got him.
“You definitely need to invite this fairy to our wedding,” I say with a smile.
“Already ahead of you, babe.”
CHAPTER 30:
MICHAEL AHMED
Lilly and I stroll the remaining block to her building in silence. My heart thuds against my chest. What if she thinks it’s too much? What if I’ve overstepped?
I stop before we reach the duplex.
“Lilly? You love me, right?”
“Yes. That hasn’t changed.”
“Good. If I did something extravagant to impress you, you’d be good with it?”
“Michael, please don’t tell me you bought a car for San Francisco. I can do L.A., but all these bridges and tunnels and the fear of high speed chases is too stressful.”
“No, not a car.”
“OMG, not a flower explosion. Though I could totally do a vegan donut right now.”
“Ah, a few flowers and some donuts and some other stuff I won’t eat. But, it’s much bigger than 1001 roses.”
“Did you buy me a house, Michael? I’m so good with the two you own. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have projected my Jack stuff onto our relationship. I don’t need to be on the title. I just want to be with you.”
“After today, never say his name again. And there is no prenup so half of everything is yours.”
“Okay, never again. We can discuss the prenup thing further if you want. Later. Why don’t I grab some stuff and we go back to Pac Heights? I’ll probably crash in a bit, but we can have breakfast.”
“No, Lilly. There is nothing to discuss. You need to stay awake. I promise there is food.”
“Michael, what’s going on?”
“Hey! How long does it take to walk a few blocks and apologize? Your guests are starting to get restless,” Lynn calls to us from in front of the duplex.
She’s wearing jeans and a red flowy top and gives us a wave before disappearing.
“Michael, what guests?”
“I planned our wedding like you told me to do.”
“You want to get married… today?”
“Not today. Now.”
“Michael, I can’t get married without my grandma. We’ll tell everyone it’s an engagement party.”
“Lilly, you know I’m as thorough as you. Betty is here. I flew to Michigan yesterday to get her. Oh, and the neighborhood she lives in is not okay with me. As soon as we wake up from our honeymoon sex, we’re buying her a house in the suburbs.”
Lilly drops her KQED tote and throws her arms around me, her lips crushing mine. G-d, I’ve missed this woman. My woman. I get handsy, grabbing each cheek of her ass and drawing her into my body. Her kiss gives me life. My life.
Letting her go is agonizing. I retrieve her bag from the ground and grab her hand, guiding us in the direction of her flat.
“We need to get inside. Interfaith rabbis are booked solid in this city. I had to pay double and that’s why we’re getting married so early in the morning.”
Lilly squeezes my hand. Hard.
“Wait, Michael.”
My heart pounds erratically, my undershirt damp with sweat. Damn, I bet this is all too much for her. She doesn’t want to do it. She’s not ready to marry me. I can handle it (I think). We’ll adjust. Give ourselves more time. I’ll spin it with our family and friends as an engagement party.
“What? Too soon to get married?”
“No. I’m totally ready to be your wife, but my boobs aren’t.”
“Your tits love me. They’re always excited when I’m around. I bet they’re perked and pleading for me to be dirty flirty. But I can’t right now. I mean, I could… but my car is parked down the street. I had to guarantee the rabbi parking,” I say, pointing to the forest green Mercedes GLS in the driveway.
“Yes, my tits love you. But I forgot to wear a bra to work. Let’s ask the fairy to go in my room and…”
“No, babe. You, marrying me braless, makes this the best wedding story… EVER.”
CHAPTER 31:
LILLY SHEPARD
In addition to dancing, Michael is an excellent wedding planner.
In the backyard of the duplex, we officially became a “we”— complete with glass breaking, a yellow gold 5-caret princess cut diamond ring, shouts of Mazel Tov!, vegan donuts, multicolor roses, and a
brunch spread provided by Plain Jane. In attendance: my grandma, his parents and siblings, the Mafia (all the men and Brit), some of Michael’s business associates, and even a few friends from my PhD program.
We danced to Michael’s Romance Playlist and topped the event off with a GTA tournament. The girls, Michael, and Jon voted to include a GTA tournament at every gathering… I love my Mafia.
It was a picture-perfect, foggy day in the City.
A few months later, I had my IUD removed. Once Michael got over his skeeting obsession (not just my back… all over my body), my uterus became a fully functioning sperm bank. Michael made regular deposits. Usually twice a day.
During the last week of IAP, we stood in the bathroom of our suite at the Ritz-Carlton, Boston. Around my neck lay a thin, diamond-encrusted collar. We watched as five pregnancy tests turned positive (yes, we’re very thorough). Michael then confessed that he’d been secretly afraid he couldn’t have children because of years of taking medications that could affect his fertility. Of course he dropped to his knees to worship my “miraculous cunt.” Yes, I’m totally his.
In late September, exactly one year after we started texting, I give birth to a healthy baby girl: Layla Asha Ahmed.
Through it all, Michael’s Crohn’s remained in remission. His annual colonoscopy reflected no active disease. And I submitted my dissertation on the day our daughter took her first step.
But our daughter would not be the only Mafia Baby.
Men, mothering, marriage, and the all-powerful matriarchy would eventually become a regular topic of discussion during our Mafia Friday Night get-togethers.
Before You Go
If you’ve enjoyed this read:
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Please call or text your favorite friend about the Smart Girl Mafia Series, Book One & Two.
You can also send your comments to: [email protected]
Brit + Alex are up next:
Can a lie lead to forever?
Smart Girl Mafia Series: Book Three (a full length)
Available Fall 2018.
Find it wherever you buy books.
Let’s Connect
Drop by www.amieesmith.com and sign up for the Amiee Smith Newsletter.
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Join the Amiee Smith Readers Clique on Facebook to discuss love, life, preferences, and the Smart Girl Mafia Series with other fans. Think of this group as a text message exchange between you and your favorite girlfriends.
Strangely Amazing Playlist
Tunes to listen to while you play games, cook dinner, and spend time with the person you love the most.
(listed in the order they appear in the story)
Mark Farina, “Cali Spaces” (Puts Mix)
Color Me Badd, “I Wanna Sex You Up”
LoveRance, “UP! (Beat the P*ssy UP)”
Fabolous, “Can’t Deny It”
Drake, “The Motto”
Silk, “Freak Me”
Jill Scott, “Love Rain”
Macy Gray, “I Try”
R. Kelly, “Bump n’ Grind”
Color Me Badd, “I Adore Mi Amor”
Jodeci, “Forever My Lady”
Bell Biv Devo, “Do Me!”
Sade, “By Your Side”
Alanis Morissette, “Head Over Feet”
Kanye West, “Gold Digger”
Estelle, “American Boy”
Miles Davis’, You’re Under Arrest (album)
Kelis, “Milkshake”
Tag Team, “Whoomp! There It Is”
Zedd, Maren Morris, Grey, “The Middle”
DJ Borhan, Just Me Mix 2017
Thank You
Mom! YOU ARE AMAZING.
My manuscript consultant, Bijou. You are always on point.
My editor, Liam. It is always a joy to work with you.
My cover designer, Angie. I admire your strength.
The good people of 1829.
My beautiful, quirky, diverse city of Oakland. It is a blessing to work, play, and make art here.
My incredibly supportive family— Aunt Pat, Rob, & Christina.
JMT.
My amazing girlfriends— Dae, JB, & K.H..
Carli. For all your help with the launch of Break Free.
Readers & Fans of the Smart Girl Mafia Series. There are more books to come.
The Divine. Only through you I am able.
About the Author
If you mixed a Dave Matthews Band song, an episode of Entourage, an episode of Girlfriends, and a Susan Elizabeth Phillips novel in a blender, you’d pour out Amiee Smith.
Born in Arkansas, but raised in Southern California, Amiee is a hybrid of impeccable manners and good-vibes-only.
She writes smutty, interracial tales about book smart heroines and hot heroes from her dining room table in Oakland, California. Jazz is usually playing in her apartment. And she believes the best cures are a day at the beach and a night out with her girlfriends.
You can find her at www.amieesmith.com and @amieesmithbooks on Facebook & Instagram.
