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“Because it’s a Saturday and I’m off duty,” she said monotonously through my car speakers, almost as if she were annoyed that she picked up in the first place.
“Did you only answer because you thought it was an emergency?”
“Yes.”
“Are you busy?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing?”
“Oh my god, Hudson, are you fu?—”
I reached out, turning the volume right down before the word could come out. “Jamey is in earshot,” I said, turning the volume back up and moving half an inch forward in the stop-and-go traffic.
“Hi, Sophie!” He called from the backseat.
“Oh. Hi, Jamey,” she replied, her voice friendlier for him. “What do you want, Hudson? I’m trying to get some work done today.”
“We have a bit of a problem,” I sighed, flexing my fingers against the steering wheel. “My mom has decided that she wants to have dinner with us tonight to get to know you. She’s already annoyed that I haven’t introduced her to you yet so I kind of had to say yes.”
She groaned, and in the background, I heard the solid thud of what I could only assume was her head against her desk. “I’m really busy.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” From the backseat, I heard the unmistakable sound of a virtual payment going through. I really needed to take that feature away from him before he drained my fortune dry with his purchases of in-game money. “I’ve ordered caterers. I’ll have them make anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
She sighed in frustration. “Fine. I want crab legs. I’ve been craving seafood.”
“Done. Be at my place before seven so she doesn’t ask questions,” I said, reaching for the little red button on my phone but stopping short. “Oh, and wear something you’ve made. She’ll like that. She’s very crafty.”
“Oh my god, goodbye, Hudson.”
————
I was convinced Sophie was actively trying to taunt me as she walked through my door, a scowl on her perfect face. Her makeup was flawless; her freckles shining through, her blue eyes popping from the muted colors on her lids, her lips a deep maroon, reminding me far too much of the wine stain from the first night I took her.
The ring on her finger shone brightly in the dim light, grabbing my attention and forcing it down Sophie’s body. The dress she wore was figure-hugging, showing off every flawless curve of her body. The top was corseted, structured in all the right ways, and the see-through fabric of the puffed long sleeves brought her entire look together. It was a maddening outfit—one my mother would love when she found out Sophie had made it, and one that would keep my eyes glued to her all goddamn night long.
“Don’t stare at me like that,” she grumbled.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a piece of meat.” Her eyes met mine, her lined lips going flat.
My phone buzzed in the pocket of my neatly pressed slacks. I fished it out, a text from my mom filling the screen. She was five minutes away. “Shit, she’s close. Okay, uh, Jamey?”
He rounded the corner of the living room quickly, his shoes clacking against the floor with each little stomp. “What? Oh, hi Sophie!”
“Hi, Jamey.”
“Listen to me,” I said, lowering myself to his level. I’d dressed him up enough to set the mood, but not too much that he would complain all evening. He was wearing a nice set of black pants with a white button-up top and his nicest shoes, which he’d already fussed about because he had to wear them in the house. Dammit, what is that red spot on his shirt? How did he already stain it? “Grandma is coming over. We’re going to have dinner.”
“I know,” he groaned, flopping around dramatically as if I were boring him to death.
“We’re playing the game tonight. The one where Sophie and I are engaged. You have to play along, okay? And you have to remember that it’s just a game.”
