“Sure you do. I made a pitcher of sweet tea since Daddy came to do yard work.”
“Course you did,” I mumble, following Mom into my house. I can feel Zander at my back. I peek back at him to see his eyes perusing my modest little house.
“Get him a glass of tea, Sade,” she orders. “I’m gonna tell Daddy that y’all are here. He’s not gonna believe this.” She mutters the last bit, giving us her back as she scurries towards the door that leads to the garage.
We’re left alone in the kitchen and I get to the cabinet to get out glasses. “Sorry—about my mom. She can be pushy and bossy and way too—too mom-ish sometimes,” I explain rather inarticulately.
“Don’t be. I like her. You’re lucky.”
I turn to face him. “I know. I really am.” I concede the truth. It’s an easy concession to make now that I know Zander and the family that he got stuck with.
Chapter Twenty
Special
Sadie
“Sade,” Mom says softly into my ear, her arms around me, “now, I don’t know what you have goin’ on here, but I can see that you have two doors open. You close one before you try walking through the other. You understand me?”
“I know.”
“I hope so, baby girl. I sure hope so.”
Mom releases me and we look to where Dad and Zander are shaking hands by the Jaguar. I stroll beside her back towards the car, thinking about what it means to close that one door. It’s a scary thought that I can’t dissect. Not right now. I have enough to deal with for one weekend.
“Thanks for taking care of the grass, Dad.”
“You know it’s not a problem, Sade.”
“I’ll give y’all a call tomorrow.”
“Nice meeting you, Zander,” Dad says, patting Zander on the shoulder.
Zander nods. “Same here.”
He lets me into the car and I wave to my parents as they make their way to their own car. Zander rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat. He takes a deep breath, pulling the seatbelt over his shoulder.
“Well, that was the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” he confesses as the engine comes to life.
“What?!” I screech disbelievingly. “Why in the world would that be the scariest thing you’ve ever done?”
“I want them to like me.” He shrugs. “I’ve never met the parents of a woman that I fully intend on seeing again. A lot. As much as I can. As much as she’ll let me.”
“They like you. A lot. I’m sure they do.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I like you a lot too.”
Zander’s hand finds its way to my thigh and he rests it right above my knee in a possessive sort of way. A trill of excitement rolls through me as he expertly maneuvers the Jaguar toward whatever hotel he has reserved for us.
***
I laugh as Zander slides the plastic key card into the door and it blinks that stupid red light at him. He groans and tries it again; this time he’s greeted with the green flashing light. He holds the door open for me and I walk in. The weighted door shuts heavily.
“Anthony and his assistant will be here shortly. I’m going to order us lunch. What do you want?” he asks, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” I shrug, knowing it will be the less tasty stuff on the menu but choosing to eat what he has to eat is important to me. It’s my small way of letting him know that he isn’t alone. Not like he thinks he is.
***
When there’s a rhythmic knock at the door, Zander gets up from the small table where we just ate our lunch of grilled chicken veggie wraps. He strides to the door and I take the opportunity to ogle his backside. He peers through to peephole and opens the door.
My eyebrows shoot up my forehead when I see a man flaunting a huge smile and strawberry blonde hair and…purple slacks that taper at the ankle like skinny jeans. He has a navy blue vest covering his light blue button up shirt. The whole getup is complete with a bowtie. A fucking bowtie. A snort escapes before I have a chance to catch it. He has one hand on his hip while the other hand twirls his sunglasses between his index finger and thumb. I think this person may be the only human being on the face of the planet who could make his ensemble actually look good.
Another man, who’s dressed rather plainly compared to the first guy, pushes a rolling clothing rack into our room. White plastic wardrobe bags are concealing whatever is hanging from it. There’s a shelf on the bottom portion of the rack with silver hard-sided boxes.
Dresses and makeup.
“You must be Sadie!” The flashy man smiles wide and hurries towards me so that we can shake hands.
“You must be Anthony,” I say, stating the obvious.
“Yes, doll, and let me just tell you that I am so relieved that you’re already gorgeous!” he gushes, clutching one hand to his chest, his eyes rolling dramatically. “You are going to be a dream to fix up for tonight’s gala!” he exclaims, shoving his sunglasses up into his neatly styled strawberry blonde hair.