Such an innocent question in normal circumstances, but it felt like a bomb now. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at my son. "Son, Dad needs to have grown up talk for a minute. You can take your dinner to the living room to eat, okay? Just be careful."
He grinned and hopped down. I saw the confusion flicker on my parent's face. I watched as Angel helped him with his plate and get situated at his little table and chair in the living room.
She returned and took her seat again eyes locked on me. "Okay—I feel like you're about to drop some heavy stuff on us, bro."
How the hell was I supposed to say this?
Taking another deep breath, I nodded. "Before I say this…I need each of you to take a moment and pause before you respond, alright?" I said slowly, my eyes moving between them. "The only reason I'm even telling you is because I see a future with this woman. I want to make sure that when I bring her around, she feels safe."
"Okay—" Mama dragged out brows furrowing even further. "You're scaring us."
"Just don't respond right away, Ma. Please," I replied seriously. "Just…let it settle. And be open."
Pops leaned back in his chair. "We're ready, son. We'll be mindful."
One final nod from me, then— "Gianna is…" I swallowed deeply. "Gianna is a sex worker."
The silence was deafening. Slow blinks. Mouths parted open in shock. Angel's eyes were wide as hell as she leaned forward. But as requested, they stayed silent—processing.
"So…she's…aprostitute?" Mama whispered the word blinking rapidly.
I exhaled slowly because now hearing how harsh that word sounded coming out someone's mouth, upset me. "She doesn't like that word." I shook my head. "And neither do I, Ma."
"But—" her mouth opened and closed at a loss for words.
Angel placed her hand on top of hers. "Sex worker is a more acceptable term, Ma. Okay?" she responded gently.
"Mmhm." Mama nodded, lips pressed together tightly.
"How did you meet her?" my father asked hesitatingly. "You weren't—?"
"No." I shook my head quickly. "Nothing like that, Pops. I saw her at the club and then a few weeks later at the restaurant. I was inspired. Made the dessert." A small smile crossed my lips as I remembered the look on her face when she tasted it. "She loved it. I ended up fumbling trying to get her attention, but she was so sweet. And warm. Told her about Dri. Melo. Gave her my card. Didn't hear from her until I posted the tutorial online."
I exhaled, continuing as they all watched and listened intently.
"Our first date was the gym. Her and that trainer damn near killed me. I had toliterallysweat to get her to accept a dinner invite," I chuckled lightly. "In the parking lot, some guy she used to deal with pulled up." I omitted the threat, not wantingto concern them further. "Anyway…that’s how I found out. We parted ways that day, but I couldn't get her off of my mind." Shaking my head again, I folded my arms over my chest. "Trust me, I tried. And now…here we are."
More silence followed. I waited—heart racing, stomach knotting.
Angel spoke first. "You know what, Rem—hell yeah." She nodded as a smile spread across her face.
Our eyes shot to her in surprise.
"Yeah, I said it." She shrugged. "Hell. Yeah. Women are having sex for free every day and receiving nothing for their time and labor." She pointed to Pops. "And Dad—you always told me when I lay down with a man I should be getting more than a wet ass, right?"
Pops cut his eyes at her. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he replied voice low and tight.
Angel continued, "Regardless—Gianna is taking control over herown body. The only reason sex work is frowned upon is because of the patriarchy. Men don't want to pay for something they feel entitled to. A woman who bucks the system is a woman I can stand behind."
She reached over and gave me an encouraging smile. I thanked her silently, relief flooding my body at having a little sister so open-minded. She may have been heavy handed with her views sometimes, but this was one time I was grateful for it.
"Besides—" she went on. "It's not like she's selling it on the corner for loose bills." Her eyes flicked back to me, voice dropping. "Not that I'm judging…but she's not selling it on the corner, is she?" Her eyes narrowed.
I smirked, shaking my head. "No. She works at an exclusive brothel with a bunch of rich white-collar types."
"See," Angel threw up her hands in triumph. "A businesswoman."
Mama sighed softly. "A businesswoman…" she repeated slowly. She looked at me. "Remy…" she spoke softly. "Baby…"
