Page 62 of The Virgin Playboy

“Maybe.” His smug expression, signaling a yes.

“So, are you like done for the day? Or…”

“I only promised my dad I’d help out for the first milking. Besides, I wouldn't be wasting time driving you around if I wasn't done for the day. Even though there are some new faces, we have a pretty good team here. I'm just gonna text Winnie that it's a yes for tonight, and then we could go ahead into town.”

***

“So, this place usually closes at two, but because it's a family friend, they're doing me a favor by opening up,” he admitted, the person on the other side of the locked door inviting us in. The family friend in question was a redhead, and by the looks of things, probably in her early fifties. She was friendly for sure, and enthusiastic to dress Graham's plus one.

“So, what are we thinking for the opera tonight? Are we thinking bold? Are we thinking dramatic? Or maybe we're leaning more on the classic side?” she asked in the same upbeat tone that Graham talked in.

“So, no to the third. I was thinking we could do something with a more romantic, gothic kind of vibe. Womanly but badass, if you know what I mean,” I added, as she tapped the corner of her lip, pondering.

“I have a few suggestions, but feel free to look around while I gather them up for you. You’re a size eight, am I right? Don't worry, love, I'm familiar with American sizing,” she said, as I confirmed, and Graham and I had a quick look around the store.

“So, when you're home, do you do all this fancy schmancy stuff all the time, or did I just get lucky at the right time of the year?” I asked, wondering. Back in New York, my Graham took the subway, loved going to free viewings in Central Park, and hoarded napkins from his favorite restaurants because he didn't want to pay for any at the grocery store. It was wild learning how different his life was here.

“I mean, yes and no. I grew up going to a lot of charity events and things like that, but the opera house was just the only thing I ever looked forward to,” he admitted, bringing me to an even more personal question.

“Hey, Graham, how come you never told me about your life back home? Were you like embarrassed or something?” I wondered, as he shrugged, his fingers grazing the racks of dresses.

“I wouldn't use the word embarrassed, but it's like, I guess for the first time in my life I just got to be normal. No one caring what my last name is. No one accusing me of nepotism, you know what that's like, right? People wanting to take your picture all the time. The first date I ever went on in the US, I probably looked mad, looking around the restaurant looking for flashing lights.

No one wondering who I am, who I'm out with. It was like the first time I could breathe. You used to work in TV, so I'm sure you know. I've got this collection of YouTube videos of all your viral moments. So, don't tell me you were able to just exist as someone not recognizing you.” That was part of the reason I couldn't wait to move back home. It wasn't like your girl was Rihanna or anything, but imagine being at Trader Joe's, and all of a sudden, a swarm of people just wanted a selfie with you.

With that explanation I could understand, but I couldn't help being obsessed with his sisters feeling like I was getting a different version of him. As someone who spent half their life in a role, it disappointed me that he didn't trust me enough to handle this. Then again, the clues were always there, I just refused to see it. I mean, he lived in the heart of Harlem by himself, no roommates or anything. His apartment was littered with expensive musical equipment, and while I never took him up on it, he always offered to pay for everything. Boy, was I a fool for going 50/50.

“Okay, but I just hope you're comfortable telling me things. I feel like I tell you everything there is to know about me, especially the bad stuff. Hell, most of it is the bad stuff. But I hope you know that you can confide in me.” His lips thinned, and for a brief second, I wondered what was on his mind. He was quick to convert it back to a smile, but gloom on Graham was unsettling.

“Jaq, let's just have fun tonight, okay? You looking perfect in a beautiful gown, and me by your side is the luckiest bloke in Auckland.” He leaned in and kissed me, as next we were alerted that the dressing room was ready for me. I must have tried on a dozen dresses until we all agreed with one that gave those glamorous Morticia vibes. Let's just say your girl was feeling herself when we got to the counter to pay for it.

Polly, that's what her name was, had offered prayers to his father, which he brushed off with a reassurance that he was fine. Not wanting to stress him out, I figured I'd do my best to make this night for him fun by being the agreeable girlfriend, but by the end of the night he was gonna have to pay up in a finger bang or something, because if he thought I was mature enough to handle him in a tux, he didn't know who he was dating.

When his family friend announced she was hooking up him up with the family discount, I thought that that would put a dent in a four-figure price tag. Tell me why that friends or family discount only wound up taking a couple hundred dollars off. Damn, some people really didn't look at the price tags.

“You're gonna look so beautiful in this dress tonight. Who knows, maybe the next dress he'll be paying for will be your wedding dress,” she joked, as I bit back my discomfort all the way to his car.

***

When his sister Wilhelmina offered to help me with my hair and makeup for tonight, I took her up on her offer, even if it was just to be nosy and learn things about Graham. The one thing I liked about her was that she was kind of weird and cringey like me, but like, in an Oceanic font, if that made sense. She was five years older than Graham, so while that didn't exactly make us peers, we were closer in age than I was with him, add in the fact that she was a new mom, and we were damn near on the same level.

“So, how did you and Graham meet? If you don't mind me asking. I know my brother's always been a bit of a flirt, but bringing back someone who's famous? Well, no one was expecting that,” she asked, lining my lips with a dark lip liner. I waved off her comment, admiring her work on my eyes in the mirror when she walked away to grab some lipstick.

“Oh, please, I'm not famous, we met at a book signing. He volunteers at a library sometimes, and I just happened to be someone who got on his nerves enough to ask me out. That's the nicest part about the story, because the middle is kind of a horror story. But your brother is very persistent. Very confident, thoughtful, and kind. I’m not ashamed to admit I couldn't resist his charm,” I admitted.

“Well, that definitely sounds like my brother. When he left he was very much a boy. I can tell that the time away has certainly turned him into a man,” she confessed, making me want to change the subject since his departure seemed to leave a huge gap in everyone's lives.

“So, you’re a new mom? That's got to be shifting gears. How are you faring with motherhood?” She blew out a puff of air, offering a smile that was both sarcastic and hopeful.

“Just straight to the juggler. No warning, eh? Honestly, I don't think women who’ve done it before are honest about how hard it is. My mom always praised motherhood. I guess she made it look easy. One minute you're this cool and interesting person, and the next your whole identity is being a mom. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of help. My mum, my sisters, my aunties, my cousins. I can pretty much call up anyone and get help or time to myself. And my husband, I suppose he's all right too. But no one's really honest about missing the version of yourself you were before. We've talked about it, but I'm definitely not ready for a second. I don't know how my mom had four of us,” she laughed, finishing off my dark lips with a sealant.

“Well, thanks for confiding in me. I know this is a weird thing to admit, but with the way Graham talks about you all, I feel like I know you already,” I admitted, because he must have told me a hundred stories about his older sister, and the way he told them, it was always in the best regard.

“I wish I could say the same. As much as he's mentioned you, he keeps a lot of details to himself. But I suppose he's always been that way. Things he loves, he tends to hold close to his chest and protects.”

“Do you know that I didn't know that your family is…well, your family, until we got into the airport?” She shrugged, the stray curls unsecured from her updo bouncing.

“That tracks. But before he left for school, our folks put a lot of responsibilities on his shoulder. The freedom he had took a lot of courage, because I couldn't even do what he did. He won't keep something from you to be malicious or anything. His mind just operates forever in older brother mode, so he has this tendency to always want to spare feelings. I swear it's like his downfall,” she confessed, as I fixated on what he could be hiding from me to spare my feelings.