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Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)

Page 95

by Violet Duke


  Brad leans in close to my ear. “I have other intentions, too…for your ears only.” He nips my earlobe and I nearly choke on my drink. He has a habit of making me do that.

  Fran stares at me with a twinkle in her eye. She moves in so close only I can hear her words. “I like seeing you like this. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

  She’s right. I haven’t been.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  MY MOM IS COMING into town today, so waking up with a hangover is a given. After I take two Tylenol to calm my pounding head, Fran and I spend the morning cleaning up the apartment so I don’t have to hear Mom complain.

  “Gabby, you need to relax. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s not even gonna be here that long.” Thank goodness for Fran, she’s always the voice of reason.

  “Well, you wouldn’t know it, the way we’re scavenging the apartment looking for rodent cadavers. You haven’t seen any cockroaches recently, have you?”

  “Very funny. So, are you going to introduce her to Brad?”

  I sigh. I’ve been debating introducing Brad to Mom. It could go great, but I doubt it. “I was thinking about it. But I’m not sure she can control herself.”

  “Gabby, he’s absolutely adorable, she’ll love him.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah, well, I don’t care if she loves him or not.”

  Fran crosses her arms over her chest. “Whoa. Rein it in there, chickie. I’m on your side, remember?”

  I stare at her as I make swirls in the carpet with my feet. “I know, Fran. I’m sorry. It’s just… You know how I get whenever I’m around my mom. I become a completely different person and I’m so uptight.”

  Right on cue, as if she knows we’re talking about her, my cell phone rings. I cringe when I see her name pop up. I might as well get it over with. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, dear! Guess where I am? New York City! Right smack in the middle of fashion central. It’s fabulous! I’m so glad I decided to come. The couture lines are amazing. I’ve got lots of great ideas for my shop.” Take a breath, Mom. “I’ve had a chance to meet some of the designers and the models. It’s so exciting!”

  “That’s great, Mom.” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.

  “So, I’m going to finish up at around four o’clock, and thought I could come by the apartment so we could grab a bite to eat. It’s really going to be the only chance I’ll have to see you. Tomorrow is a full day and then I head back home.”

  “That sounds fine, Mom.”

  “Great, so I’ll see you later.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  Fran looks over at me. “So what time is she coming?”

  “Around four. Where do you think we should go to eat? If it’s up to her, she’ll want to go somewhere ritzy and I’m not up for that.” I look down at my Converse. Definitely not up for ritzy.

  Fran taps her finger against her cheek. “What about Carmine’s on the Upper West Side?”

  “Perfect. I’ll call Brad to see if he wants to come along. Do you want to call Kyle?”

  “He has to work tonight, so he’ll have to miss out on the fun.” She chuckles. “I’m sure he’s all torn up about it.”

  I dial Brad and wait to hear the sound of his throaty voice.

  “Hey, Baby.”

  My heart skips a beat just hearing it. “Hey!”

  “What’s up?”

  “So do you want to meet my crazy Mom? She’s here and we’re going out to dinner.”

  “Absolutely. What’s the plan?” Wow, he actually sounds excited. I hope he feels the same way after he meets her. Ugh.

  “I think we’re going to head to Carmine’s. Do you want to meet us there after work?”

  “Sure. That sounds good.”

  “I’ll text you on the way, okay?”

  “Okay. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Me too.”

  *

  AT FOUR O’CLOCK sharp, there’s a knock at the door. I throw a couple more Tums in the air and they land in my mouth. Now I’m ready. I fling open the door. There she is; impeccably dressed as always. She’s wearing a navy blue pencil skirt and a white silk blouse. Subtle gold jewelry adds to her look, and I notice she still wears those ridiculously expensive Borgezie shoes. Her makeup is perfect, right down to the waterproof mascara, and her hair is pinned up in her trademark bun with a rhinestone clip.

  “Hi, dear.” She hugs me gently and pats my back awkwardly, as an afterthought. Whoever invented this uncomfortable hug, I’ll never know.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Let me look at you. Have you been eating? You look a little thin, dear.”

  My eyes go to the heavens. “Yes, Mom, I’m eating.”

  “Well, I certainly hope it’s not only that dreadful candy you can’t seem to stay away from,” she says with disgust.

  Let’s not talk about me. “So, we thought we’d go to Carmine’s. They’ve got great food and it’s relatively casual.” Thankfully, here comes Fran.

  “Hey, Mrs. W.” Fran walks over and gives her a big hug. My mom doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s not used to this kind of affection; giving it or receiving it.

  “Franny, wow, you look terrific!” Nice. She looks terrific and I look emaciated.

  “Thanks, Mrs. W. It’s good to see you. How’s the fashion business?”

  Ready. Set. Go.

  “Oh, Franny, it’s fantastic. I’m living the dream, what can I say? I’m loving the energy of New York; I’m meeting so many amazing people.”

  “That’s great!” Fran sounds genuinely excited. I wish I could have that same level of enthusiasm around my mom.

  “So, let’s head out,” I chime in. And get this over with.

  On the way to Carmine’s, I text Brad. I hate to expose him to my mom, but I’m looking forward to seeing him. Fingers crossed that she can behave herself and not offend him with any of her snobbish remarks.

  When we arrive at the restaurant, Brad’s already there. He flashes me his dimple the moment we walk in the door, and I want to do a lot more than just smile back. I fold my arms around his waist and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. I hear my mother clear her throat. “Dear, who might this be?”

  “This would be Brad, Mom, my boyfriend. Brad, this is my mom.”

  “You haven’t mentioned him before.” She sounds affronted and she just insulted Brad.

  “Yes, and that would be because I rarely hear from you.”

  She shoots me a dirty look. I look over at Brad with an apologetic smile. He grabs my hand and squeezes. All is right with the world.

  From the moment we sit down, my mother starts in on him. “So, what do you do, Brad?”

  “I own a coffee shop in Midtown.”

  My mom gives me a disapproving glance. I’d expect nothing less. She hesitates before she speaks. “That sounds…nice. What did you get your degree in?”

  “Business Management.”

  “Yes, and where did you go to school? Do you have your MBA?”

  I chime in. “Oh my God, Mom, enough of the third degree.”

  She never disappoints. Perfectly poised, but impossible to hide the shards of ice that surround her.

  Fran knees me under the table and gives me a sympathetic glance.

  “I’m just trying to get to know your boyfriend, dear.”

  Brad continues. “I went to Pace University, and no, I don’t have my MBA.”

  “I see,â€
 my mother says, disapproval dripping from that nasty little tongue of hers. “It must be somewhat interesting, meeting people from all walks of life.”

  Someone shoot me now. Brad doesn’t skip a beat, though. My superhero. “Yes, it is Mrs. Willis. I get to meet all sorts of people, some pretty wonderful ones actually. That’s where I met your daughter.” Score.

  “Still addicted to coffee, Gabby?” My mom shakes her head and turns down her nose at me. “It’s a terrible habit and so unhealthy.”

  She says it like I’m addicted to crack. Get a grip, Mom. I raise my eyes to meet Brad’s and grab his knee under the table. “Yes, especially now.” God, I just want to plant my lips on his and kiss him senseless. I’m sure my mom would appreciate that.

  “So are you enjoying being in New York, Mrs. Willis?” Leave it to Brad to save the day and change the subject. This should get her going for a good fifteen minutes.

  “It’s fantastic. There’s so much to see, it’s hard to take it all in. Plus, I’m so just busy with getting new fashion ideas for the store, that I don’t have time for much else. It’s a nice change from California, though. Things definitely move at much faster pace here.” She turns to me, planning her next move. I can see it on her face. “So, Gabby. Have you managed to get a promotion yet? It’s been almost three years, after all.”

  “Not yet, Mom.”

  “Well, maybe you need to start working harder. If you’re going to have a chance of moving up in the company…”

  Thankfully our food comes and there’s so much of it that it takes the pressure off the conversation for a little while. That is, until my mother opens her mouth…again. “So Brad, tell me what you like about my daughter.”

  Fran chokes on her salad. I’m turning blue and silently being rolled away by Oompa Loompas. Gah! I never should’ve invited Brad. This is so humiliating!

  “Well, I’m not sure where to start. It’s a pretty long list.” A man after my own heart. Oh, that’s right, he already has it. “She has a knack for clogging toilets.”

  I burst out laughing and the spaghetti flies out of my mouth and lands on my mother’s shirt. Brilliant.

  “Gabby! This is a new blouse, for heaven’s sake.” Oh well, not anymore.

  “Actually Mrs. Willis, your daughter is incredibly special. I first noticed her sense of humor, and then everything else followed. Her thoughtfulness, the way she cares about other people, the way she appreciates life. Her overall sweetness. She has a beautiful spirit.”

  Sadly, all of the things Brad listed my mother knows nothing about. My mother sighs and looks bored and completely unimpressed. Completely unfazed by the man singing her daughter’s praises.

  Brad captures my chin between his fingers. Brown eyes to blue, we’re lost. He leans close to my ear and whispers. “I want to kiss you like crazy right now.” I have an incredible urge to take him in the bathroom and let him do just that. Eh, What the hell.

  I look over at my mom. “Can you excuse us for a minute?”

  Fran winks and Brad looks confused, but stands anyway. Grabbing his hand, I lead him towards the ladies’ room. Now I’m the one who’s completely insane.

  “Gabby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He always shows such concern for me; little does he realize I tuned my mother out in seventh grade.

  When we get to the hallway, I turn my head from left to right, and then duck inside the ladies’ room, pulling Brad with me. It’s a single bathroom, hooray; but locking the door is essential. I push Brad up against it and crash my lips to his, plunging my tongue into his mouth as he grabs my hips and pulls me close.

  He breaks the kiss, stunned and panting. “Gabby, what was that for? Not that I’m complaining, but whoa.”

  “You talking about toilets turned me on.”

  He runs his hand through his shaggy hair and laughs, then takes my hand and kisses my fingers one by one.

  I look up at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry about my mom.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. She’s nice…in a nasty sort of way.”

  I give him another quick kiss. He sure knows the way to my heart.

  “I’m actually having a hard time believing you’re really her daughter. You’re nothing like her.”

  I lift up on my tippy toes to find his mouth. “You get another kiss for that.”

  We walk back out hand in hand, and I suddenly feel so much better. When we arrive at the table, Fran’s smirking and my mother looks confused.

  “Everything okay, dear?”

  “Yes, Mom, everything’s fine.” More than fine.

  My mother looks at her watch and then at me. “I hate to cut the evening short, but I have to get back to review some details for tomorrow’s events.”

  “No problem, Mom.” No problem at all.

  One by one, Mom gives us all her conventional awkward hug. “It was great seeing you, dear. I’ll chat with you soon. Brad, it was a pleasure meeting you. Franny, great to see you as always.”

  We say our goodbyes and I can finally breathe again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  BRAD’S TRAVELING out of town for two days to meet with some people about possibly opening up another shop. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since we started dating a couple of months ago. I’m going to miss him, a lot.

  I’ve been thinking about what Brad said to me that night in Central Park, about going back to school, which is why I’m on my way to Parsons The New School for Design on Fifth Avenue to get some brochures and meet with the program director. I did some research online and apparently they do have a terrific Master of Fine Arts program.

  When I arrive, I’m met at the front desk by a very professional looking girl wearing a brown pencil skirt, cream silk blouse, and what appear to be black Jimmy Choo heels. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a perfect ponytail and her diamond studs are a fabulous complement. Seems appropriate, after all, this is a design school. I’m feeling seriously underdressed in my blue blouse, skinny jeans, and blue Converse sneakers. At least I’m color-coordinated. I take a seat and pick up a magazine called Spaces until my name is called.

  All of about two minutes later; “Gabrielle Willis.”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Hello, Gabrielle. I’m Edith Hanley. Come on in.”

  Making my way to her office, I trip on the hardwood floor and hear a girlish laugh from the reception desk. There’s absolutely nothing on the ground; I tripped over my own sneaker. What a lovely first impression.

  I take a seat in one of two velvet wingback chairs that face a large glass window overlooking Fifth Avenue.

  Edith takes a seat in a chair opposite me, crossing her legs and propping her notebook on her lap. Her features are sharp; she has short, cropped red hair and big blue eyes surrounded by a pair of black designer glasses. She’s wearing a black tailored suit with a crisp white shirt. Her outfit screams serious, but her smile is welcoming. “So, what brings you here, Gabrielle?”

  “Well, I’m interested in learning more about the Master of Fine Arts program. I currently work at Landon & Castell as an assistant and I have my Bachelor’s in Interior Design from UC Berkeley.”

  “That’s fabulous! Then you have a bit of a head start. We have a very comprehensive program with both seminar and studio classes, as well as the opportunity for work outside of the classroom.”

  “That sounds great.” I’m pretty excited. It feels good to be here, and I finally feel like it’s the right time for me to do this. I can probably complete the program on a part-time basis in two years.

  “I’d like to give you some brochures and additional pap
erwork for you to review. Also, we’re having a program information night next Wednesday at six if you’re interested.”

  “Thank you, Edith, I appreciate it.”

  She gives me a big smile with those huge blue eyes and pats my hand. “Here’s my business card. Just give me a call and let me know if you have any additional questions.”

  “Terrific. It was great meeting you.” I shake her hand. “Thanks again.” I make my way out of the building, taking my two clumsy feet with me. Once I’m outside, I lean against the glass, look up at the sky, and smile.

  *

  FRAN AND I are having a girls’ night tonight. With Brad out of town, Fran’s taking a break from Kyle and spending some time with me. I stop at the corner store on the way home to pick up a giant bag of Swedish Fish and a box of those Devil Dogs Fran loves so much. I’m excited to spend some quality time with Fran. She’s been with Kyle so much lately, and now with Brad and me spending all this time together, we’re like ships passing in the night.

  I browse through the narrow aisles to see if they have any Twizzlers and pick up some orange juice.

  “Clark, put that back, we need to get going.”

  Immediately, I twist my body to the voice. A frazzled woman is speaking to a little boy with dark hair and wide blue eyes, his little fingers clutching a Hershey’s Bar. Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep breath. Our little boy might have looked just like him. I could really use that Hershey’s Bar right about now.

  I walk back to our apartment, devouring the entire Hershey’s Bar along the way. By the time I get to our door, I’ve got a wicked stomachache. I open the door, excited to share my goodies, but am completely unprepared for what I see. Fran is sitting on the sofa, her mascara-smeared eyes riveted to what appears to be a spot on the carpet. I call her name, but she doesn’t respond.

  “Fran, what’s going on? What happened?” She still doesn’t look at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was in a catatonic state. I shake her shoulders until she looks over at me, fresh tears forming in the green of her eyes.

 

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