Boss Meets Her Match

by Janet Lee Nye

  Her eyes went wide before a sultry smile crossed her lips. “You trying to bail out on me, Frat Boy?”

  He kissed her tenderly. “Never.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “NOW HE WANTS me to meet his parents.” Sadie’s fork clanged off the plate as it fell from her hand. Lena frowned at her. “Close your mouth. There’s food in there, and frankly, it’s disgusting. I might vomit in your plate.”

  Sadie clamped her mouth shut and chewed hurriedly. Her throat worked as she swallowed. “What did you just say to me?”

  “I mean, not, like, meet the parents,” she made finger quotes around the words. “But meet them. They’re coming to Kiawah Island. His father has some sort of business thing. He’s having dinner with them and wants me to come.”

  “Okay. Wait. Back this horse up a bit. He’s met your parents. Now you’re meeting his parents? What exactly is going on here?”

  Lena put her elbows on the table and put her hands over her face with a groan. “I don’t know.”

  But she did know. Beyond the insanely hot sex, he made her laugh. He moved her to tears with his stories of the kids he helped. He had zero issues with her bank statement. True, he was from a family whose bank statement probably made hers look like chump change, but even some of those types did not like a woman with her own money. She was falling crazy in love. And that never ended well.

  “Do you want to meet them?”

  She peeked out through her fingers. Sadie was sitting back in the booth, wineglass pressed to her lips, frowning at her. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” Sadie said briskly, downing the wine. She reached for the bottle and poured more. “You are freaking me out here. Who are you and where is Lena? I don’t know? That’s all you have? No. I am not the grown-up here. You. You are the grown-up.”

  Lena topped off her own wineglass. Screw it. If she had to Uber back to town and get her car tomorrow, she’d do it. “I don’t...” She stopped as Sadie shook a finger at her. Rubbing her forehead, Lena sighed. “I know. It’s crazy. I feel like I’ve run off the end of one of those moving sidewalk things. My life seemed normal, but now it’s all out of control and I’m just flailing around trying to get my balance.”

  “You’re in love.”

  “No. I’m not. Yet.”

  “Yes, you are. You just haven’t admitted it.”

  Scowling, Lena took a sip of wine. “I thought you weren’t going to be the grown-up.”

  “Okay, I’ll be the teenager. How’s the sex?”

  She felt her face go hot as the woman in the booth behind Sadie turned to look at them. “Can you at least lower your voice?”

  Sadie looked over her shoulder. “If you saw this guy, you’d know why I had to ask.”

  “Sadie!”

  “Sorry, Mom. Now. What were we talking about? Meeting his parents? Do you want to? Sister truth.”

  She made a face. “Sort of but not really. No matter how we frame it, I’m the girl he’s dating and I’m meeting his parents. That’s loaded all by itself. But then, he and his parents haven’t had the best relationship and they all kissed and made up when he went home a few weeks ago, so he’s eager to go and continue with that healing process.”

  “What does Matt think your relationship is?”

  Lena plucked a crayon out of the mason jar and began doodling a flower on the white paper covering the table. The best reason to make the trek to South Windermere and the Med Deli. Second best was their shrimp and grits. “I don’t think he’s thought about it. He was dreading their visit before and now he’s looking forward to it.”

  “Have you said anything to him?” Sadie took a crayon out too and began doodling on her side of the table. “This is fun. I should get one of those adult coloring books.”

  “No. Not directly. I’ve asked him a thousand times if he’s sure they won’t mind me coming to their family dinner. And he always says it’ll be fine.”

  Dropping the crayon back in the jar, Sadie reached across the table to still Lena’s hand. “Lena. Look at me. Family is the most important thing to you. Even now when they are driving you insane. If Matt’s been estranged from his family and is trying to reconnect, you need to support him.”

  Lena sat up straight and tapped the crayon on the table. “I didn’t think about it that way.” A slight bit of self-recrimination rose in her gut. She should have. She’d watched Sadie sever the bond with the mother who had severed her parental rights, condemning Sadie to a lifetime in foster care. Watched as she reconnected with her half brother and, recently, with her half sisters. Josh, the man Sadie considered her brother of the heart, was just now getting to know the sister he’d been separated from since they were children.

  Sadie’s fingers curled around hers. “I can see what you’re thinking. Don’t feel bad about it. It’s not in your normal to need to reconnect with family.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that it didn’t even occur to me even after watching you and Josh struggle for years with it. I’m sorry I’m such a horrible friend.”

  “Oh. My. God,” Sadie said, rolling her eyes. “Stop with the Catholic drama.”

  “Guilt. Catholic guilt.”

  “Oh! Are you going to go to confession and tell Father Greg what you and Matt have been doing? How much detail do you have to give? Can I go just to watch his face when he comes out of the booth thing?”

  She arched her eyebrow. “You mean the confessional?”

  “Whatever. If it’s that important to Matt, I think you should go.”

  “Yeah. I guess so. I’ve never had to meet parents before. It’s so weird.”

  “We picked a wedding date.”

  “Well, okay, next subject. That’s great. When?”

  “April first.”

  “Please tell me you are kidding.”

  “Nope. It’s the first Saturday in April and apparently, people don’t like getting married on that day so everything is available.”

  Lena shrugged. “And it’ll be easy to remember. But you know my mother is going to be in panic mode the entire time. She’ll be terrified y’all will turn around at the end and yell April fools.”

  “We’re doing a Fool for Love theme.”

  “Oh sheesh. That’s too corny to even comprehend.”

  “Jules came up with it.”

  “So a nine-year-old is planning your wedding?”

  “Pretty much. Better her than me. She’s way more stylish than I’ll ever be.”

  “Great. Send her to my house to dress me for dinner with the parents.”

  * * *

  STANDING IN THE walk-in closet with Sass winding around her ankles, Lena flicked through dresses. Too short. Too sexy. Too bright. Maybe. Too business. Maybe. She slipped one of the maybes from the hanger and wiggled into it.

  The emerald green was a good color on her. The hem hit at exactly one inch below her knees, so that was good. She frowned and leaned forward. The girls certainly were on display. Shaking her head, she unzipped the dress.

  “Why didn’t you tell me I dress like a hoochie momma, Sass?”

  At the back of the closet, she found the dress she’d worn to her grandfather’s funeral. What would Lito think of Matt? She smiled in spite of the sadness that filled her. Missing Lito was a part of her she would carry to her own grave. She lifted the dress from the hanger and carried it to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she held the dress pressed to her chest for a moment. I think he would love Matt. She could picture them, sitting by the creek together.

  She pulled the dress on and smoothed down the skirt. She’d thought putting it on would make her sad, stir up memories of that awful day. But it didn’t. She felt like Lito was with her. As if the dress had summoned his spirit. Black wasn’t her best color, but she could add a
pop of brightness with a necklace.

  “Oh, Lito,” she whispered at her reflection. “I wish you were here and could go with me tonight.”

  Because she was scared. Terrified. Meeting his parents had been an abstract problem until now, when she had to face the reality that she would be face-to-face with them in less than two hours. She knew nothing of them except that they came from old money and his father was a lawyer at a prestigious firm in Washington, DC. She wanted to like them. And wanted them to like her.

  There was a quiet knock at the door and her heart rate shot up. Matt was here. She padded barefoot to let him in. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said.

  “You’ll be fine,” Matt said. He took her hands and lifted them, his gaze running over her. “You look amazing.”

  “So do you. Damn, you clean up pretty good.”

  He’d put his hair up in a neat man bun and trimmed his beard. The black suit was perfectly tailored and the blue shirt he’d paired it with brought out the ice in his blue eyes. He opened the jacket and pulled two ties from the inside pocket.

  “Which do you think? I never can pick a decent tie.”

  Lena took them and held them each against the shirt. The feel of his chest beneath her fingers sent her heart rate up again. “Why don’t we just stay home? Order Chinese and get naked?” She draped one of the ties around his neck. “This one.”

  “Are you still nervous?”

  “Yes. Are you sure they’ll be okay with it?”

  “Lena. I’ve already told them. They know you are coming. They are looking forward to meeting you.”

  “Really? They said that?”

  “Not in so many words. Please don’t be worried. It’s just dinner with my parents.”

  “Okay. Let me finish getting ready.”

  Just dinner with his parents. Little did he know. She’d spent most of the day looking up dinner etiquette sites online. What if it was one of those super fancy places and she used the wrong fork? She could fake her way through the high-society parties easily enough. Even when having dinner with clients, it was business, not personal. She had very little firsthand experience being with people of Matt’s parents’ social status. She didn’t want to embarrass herself.

  “What do you think?” She did a slow twirl. She’d added a black-and-blue beaded necklace with a matching bracelet. Her nice diamond earrings. Sensible two-inch black heels.

  “You look great.”

  “The black is okay? Should I wear something with color?”

  Matt put his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place. “No. I think you are beautiful. Stop worrying. It’s going to be fine.”

  “But what if I say something stupid?”

  He kissed her gently. “Just be you, Lena. Just be the woman I love.”

  She went still at his words. Everything went away. Her nerves. His parents. Everything. She looked deep into his eyes. “Do you?” she whispered.

  “I love you, Magdalena Reyes.”

  A smile crossed her lips. “I love you too, Frat Boy.”

  He pulled her closer and held her against his chest. “I’ve been wanting to say that for a while now.”

  “What took you so long?”

  “I thought you’d run away as fast as your Jimmy Choos would allow.”

  She pushed back. “I’m not sure how I feel about a man who knows what Jimmy Choos are.”

  He laughed and took her hand. “Too late. You love me. And I have two sisters. Come on. It’s a long drive.”

  * * *

  THE OCEAN ROOM on Kiawah was perhaps the fanciest restaurant Lena had ever been to, but it was just a restaurant. She could do a restaurant. Order some food. Eat with the utensils they bring you. Try not to spill anything on you. Or others. The nerves crept back.

  “Ready?” Matt asked as he opened the car door and held a hand out to her.

  Put on your big-girl panties and deal with this. You know how to schmooze rich people. You’ve spent your entire career doing it. Drawing in a slow breath, she placed her hand in Matt’s and stepped from the car. “Piece of cake.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  He tucked her arm into his as they walked up the wide porch. “Now I feel like we’re going to prom or something,” she said with a laugh that sounded a little too giggly to her ear. “We need a code.”

  “A code?”

  “For if I start babbling inanely.”

  “Oh. Okay. Let me think.”

  “Quick. We’re here. Are your parents here? Are we early? We haven’t kept them waiting, have we?”

  “Is that Mose over there?” Matt asked.

  “Where?” Lena gasped, looking around.

  “It’s the code.”

  Tipping her head back, Lena laughed. “That is perfect.”

  Matt pulled her away from the door and gave her a quick kiss. “You just keep smiling and laughing like that, beautiful lady.”

  She looked up at him and put her hands to his cheeks. “You are so going to get lucky when this is over.”

  He took her hands in his and lifted one to his lips. “I’m already lucky.”

  The swell of love and happiness sent her floating on a little cloud of euphoria that allowed no nerves to intrude as he led her inside the restaurant. She was in love. With the most awesome man she’d ever met. And he loved her. Everything else was just minutiae.

  “They’re waiting in the bar. We’ll have drinks first,” Matt said.

  “Okay.” Her happy little cloud sank a bit. Her hand tightened around Matt’s forearm as he stopped in the doorway and scanned the room.

  “There they are.”

  He steered her to a couple sitting at one of the little armchair arrangements in the bar area. She smiled. Matt looked much like his father. His father’s hair had gone to gray, but he had the same blue eyes and she could see the shape of Matt’s nose and lips in his face. His mother was a prettily preserved blonde. Petite and perfectly dressed in a delicate shade of pink Versace. Her Louboutins put Lena’s poor Jimmy Choos to shame.

  Matt’s hand slipped around her waist. “Mom, Dad, this is Lena Reyes.”

  Showtime. Lena stepped forward and smiled as Matt’s father stood. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you both. Mr. Matthews. Mrs. Matthews.” She shook hands all around.

  “Please have a seat,” Mr. Matthews said.

  After they settled in their chairs, there was more polite chitchat. Matt asked about their trip. The weather. Lena smiled and nodded. A lot. Mr. Matthews made a discreet motion with his hand and a waiter appeared instantaneously.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes. I’ll have a martini. Your finest chardonnay for my wife. Charles? Lena?”

  Lena reached for the menu and scanned it quickly as Matt said, “I’ll have a glass of the chardonnay also.”

  Lena smiled up at the waiter. “The Strawberry Airmail sounds good.”

  Mrs. Matthews leaned over to tap at a spot on the drink menu. “That one sounds good also.”

  Lena’s eyes dropped to where she’d pointed and she froze. Tequila. Jalapeno syrup. Mezcal. Breathe. Maybe she just likes margaritas. Don’t be paranoid. Peripherally aware of the silence and the waiter poised to take her order, Lena shook her head and smiled. “Oh, I’m not much for tequila. I think the Strawberry Airmail will do just fine.”

  “I hear your artwork is doing quite well,” Mr. Matthews said to Matt.

  Lena clasped her hands in her lap, willing her heart rate to drop. The smile on her lips seemed frozen. Let it go. Ignore it. But, part of her screamed silently. But nothing. Suck it up, buttercup. Tuning back in to the conversation, she heard Matt self-deprecatingly giving Eliot Rutledge credit for his success.

  “Matt,” she said gently. “Whi
le Eliot may have elevated your presence in the art world, people aren’t buying your art because of him. It’s because your work is amazing.”

  “Do you have an art background then, Lena?” Mrs. Matthews asked.

  “No. ma’am. I just know what I like.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, art is the most subjective form of human expression there is.”

  “One could say that about any artistic endeavor,” Mr. Matthews interjected with a dry, humorless laugh.

  Lena gratefully took her drink from the returning waiter and took a healthy sip. Nodding, she gave him a thumbs-up. “Wonderful,” she said. Catching Mrs. Matthews’s frown, she widened her smile. “Perfect choice for me.”

  Matt’s hand rested on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “Lena is definitely a champagne sort of woman.”

  “Mmm,” Mrs. Matthews said as she took a delicate sip of her wine. “Remind me, Lena, what exactly is it that you do?”

  Okay. She wants to play the high-society card. Lena took another sip of the cocktail—it really was quite delicious—and smiled. “I make poor people comfortable, rich people wealthy and wealthy people adore me.”

  Mr. Matthews laughed. A real laugh, not one of those fake polite laughs. But his wife looked like her wine had turned to vinegar. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand that.”

  “Lena is a financial manager,” Matt said. “The best. I was lucky to get a spot with her partner.”

  “Well, the best in Charleston. What an accomplishment.”

  An awkward silent moment fell. Mr. Matthews raised his hand again and the waiter appeared like magic. Rich, white, male power. Must be nice. “I think we’re ready to move to our table now.”

  As they were led to the table, Matt kept Lena back a few paces. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

  “Your mother hates me,” she whispered back.

  “No, she doesn’t. She’s like this with everyone. Don’t take it personally.”

  “No, this isn’t like everyone. Didn’t you tell them?”

  “Tell them what?”

  “That I’m Mexican. For God’s sake, Matt. Tell me you didn’t spring this on them.”