“Spoken like a true romantic and optimist.”
I search his face. “Are you making fun of me?”
He frowns and the humor melts into affection. “Never. From head to toe, inside out, there’s nothing about you I don’t take seriously. Not one part of you I don’t appreciate. Not a single thing I’d change. GoodSin, Bad Sin, I don’t care. As long as you’remySin.”
I’ll never get over the way it feels when he speaks life into me like that. After a lifetime of being critiqued, always thinking about leveling up, never feeling like I’m quite where I want to be, he’s more than watered a desert in my soul, he’s helped new life bloom there.
“Thank you, Kwame. For everything. This has been one of the happiest times of my life.”
“Mine, too.” He kisses me softly and tucks an errant heatless curler back under my bonnet. “And your optimism is one of my favorite things about you, for the record.”
“I’m not an optimist by choice. It's the only way I have been able to keep moving forward.”
“That’s something my father says, too. But his optimism is motivated by vengeance. Besting his doubters and enemies is what gets him out of bed in the morning.”
Kwame has barely spoken about his father while we’ve been here, and I’d almost forgotten that he’s the reason I’m here. My stomach dips “I’m so nervous about meeting him. I’m so glad you’ll be there for lunch.”
His brow furrows. “Uh…” he presses his lips together.
“What?”
His phone buzzes on the bedside table, rattling against the glass and stealing his attention. “One second.”
He answers the call. “Morning.” He listens and nods. “Yup, I’ll be there by eleven, but I’ve got all day.”
Just like that, our tranquil love fest comes to a screeching halt. He glances at his watch and groans and sits up.
“Where are you going to be at eleven?”
“I’ve got to get to DC for a meeting. I wasn’t planning on joining you for lunch.”
I shoot up to a sitting position, clutching the sheet over my bare chest. “You’re not joining us?” I ask, incredulous. “What do you mean?”
He sits down. “I didn’t know you expected me to. I thought you were going to be interviewing him during lunch, and I have a meeting with my mentor.”
I toy with my hands in my lap, unsure what to say. “It’s cool. I just…I thought you’d be there.”
He squeezes my thigh. “I’ll be back for dinner. I promise.”
He glances at his watch and groans. “I have to get in the shower.” He pecks my lips, distractedly “Sorry Sin, really.”
I watch him, and all I can think isMe, too.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Kwame
Where the Apple Falls
I feel like shit that I’m not joining Sin for lunch. I didn’t think she’d want me there, and I wanted to put off seeing my dad until I had things squared away on this role at the DOJ. Now that it’s completely dead in the water, I’m not sure what I’m going to do next.
I run around to open Sin’s door and help her down from the car. She’s dressed in a suit for the first time since I’ve known her and looks like she belongs behind an anchor’s desk.
“Do you think I’m ready?” she asks as we walk up the short stone path to the door.
“You were born ready, Sin. But if you hadn’t been, the work you’ve put into research would have made up the difference.”
She flashes me one of her iconic megawatt smiles and my nerves settle just a little bit. She smooths a hand over her skirt. “I hope he likes me.”
