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“She said she doesn’t want things from me.”
“So, you bought her a suit?”
“Yes.” He still looked confused. “I knew she wanted it. So I got it.”
“You know what? I’m just going to pretend I understand what you’re saying so we can get to work.”
“I thought I was being a good boyfriend by buying her something she wanted.”
“Uhhuh.”
“Strange girl. You know, she offered to pay me back over time. She said we needed to work out a payment plan.” He started laughing.
“Are you kidding?” He laughed.
“No, she was serious. I told her to look at it as a bonus.”
“Did that work?”
“Yes. But when I told her I wanted to take her shopping at Chanel, she freaked out and said she wasn’t a whore or a cliché.”
“What?”
“It all has something to do with her mother and why she doesn’t want me to meet her parents yet.”
“You lost me.”
“Her mother doesn’t like me. Can you believe it? I haven’t even met the woman, and I’m at the top of her hit list.” I sipped my water.
“Are you serious?”
“Not to brag, but I’m a great guy.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Am I missing something?”
“You my brother, are most women’s fantasy, every mother’s dream, and every father’s nightmare.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just look at you. If I didn’t know you, I wouldn’t let you near my daughter.”
“Are you serious?”
“When a parent sees you coming to pick up their daughter, they want to close the door and put their baby girl under lock and key.”
“And what about you?”
“Me? Parents just think I’m a well-dressed thug…the proverbial Bad Boy. Trust me, they aren’t too excited to see me either, but I do get invited inside.”
“So, it’s my fault I haven’t met her parents?”
“No. It’s theirs. Once she figures out the best time to introduce you, she’ll invite you for dinner. Until then, keep doing what you’re doing, following her lead.”
“Hello, Mother.” She turned around, and her smile reminded me of the days when I was a little boy coming home from school, excited to share my day with her. She hasn’t aged a bit. In my mind, she will always be that beautiful, young mother always dressed for a fancy lunch. Part of me wishes she would find a nice man to date, but the protective son cannot stand the thought of any man other than my father kissing her.
“Phillippe.” I walked over, wrapped my arms around her waiting on her gentle kiss on the cheek. “When did you get back?”
