“Yes.”
My mother’s brows crept up. “And why didn’t you tell us this before we left?”
“Because I knew you would react exactly like this,” I said, lifting my chin, all dignified and haughty.
“We’re not reacting,” my father said, totally reacting. “We’re simply asking clarifying questions.”
I cleared my throat again. “So, I might be staying with him for a little longer.”
Silence descended on the table, the kind that was loud as hell. My mother stared. My father stared harder.
Finally, Mama asked, very slowly, “What’s his name?”
“Mekhi. Mekhi Venzant.”
“And are you dating this man?”
My mouth opened. No sound came out. How do you answer that when the two people in question argued more than they breathed and swore they hated each other?
So, of course, I said, “Yes.”
My mother’s hand flew to her chest like she’d been shot. My father blinked at me like I’d just announced I was dropping out of school to strip full time. Then, he squinted at me. “Since when?”
“Recently,” I said. “Very recently. You know how these things happen. One minute you’re single as a dollar bill and the next you’re… yeah, recently.”
My mother leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “Sweetheart, you know you can tell us anything, right?”
I nodded reluctantly. Damn, she was on to me!
“So, Farrah… are you pregnant?”
I choked on air. My daddy whacked me on the back. My mama glared at him. “Honey! The baby!”
“What? No! Mama, there is no baby!” I protested.
I mean, not that I knew of. But we’d been careful… after that first night… mostly.
“You’re not in any other kind of trouble, are you?” my father asked.
I shook my head emphatically. “No! Absolutely not.”
“Is this man coercing you?” my mother pressed.
“Mama, you gotta lay off those mafia romances. No! He’s?—”
I stopped, because suddenly, literally as if summoned by God’s sense of humor, a tall shadow appeared beside our table. A very familiar tall shadow.
I looked up and nearly died on the spot. Mekhi was standing there in a perfectly tailored dark suit, buttoned at the waist. No chains. No scowl. No edge. His beard was lined clean, locs neat, expression calm and professional. He looked like a Forbes covercome to life. I had to study that for a minute, because honey, he was fine!
“Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Gray,” he said smoothly, a polite, deep voice with not a single ounce of hood in it. “Hope I’m not interrupting your dinner.”
My brain short-circuited. Who was this man and what had he done with my nemesis?
“Mekhi?” I whispered, eyes wide.
“Small world,” he said, smiling as he rested a warm hand on my shoulder. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”
I looked at him and bit my tongue becausehe knew! He absolutely knew. He had a human GPS named Steel who had a bad habit of snitching on me.
