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Richard’s lips purse at her behavior and Jordyn scratches her nose using the middle finger.
“Behave,” I warn beneath a whispered laugh.
When Mick is drawn into a conversation with Richard and Lexie, Jordyn leans over to me. “He is honestly the driest man I have ever met. I don’t know how our girl does it or why.”
“Lex may see a side of him that we don’t.”
“Not possible. There’s only one side, BO-RING.”
“Well, you seem to think there’s more than one side to Robocop,” I point out.
“Are you really comparing the sinfully delicious Stiles to Dr. Wake-Me-When-It’s-Over?”
I feel Mick’s hand slide up my back to the bare skin above my dress. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Your hot security man,” Jordyn says.
Mick, aware of her crush, lust, whatever it is, shakes his head. “Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck. I’ve got this cat and mouse thing going with him. A slow chase to set my trap, and then…” she curves her hand and scratches it forward like a claw. “I’ll pounce.”
Mick and I laugh. Since Stiles is more grizzly bear than mouse, and Jordyn, more lioness than cat—should make it very interesting.
When Mick’s Managing Director ofPapa’s Kids arrives, he introduces me to Eden and her partner, Trinity—a lovely couple that I plan to have over and get to know better. I’m also introduced to other members of the team that have an assigned table next to ours. Their rapport with Mick and each other is one of collegial friendship and mutual respect. The more I experience the various facets of Mick’s life, the more connected to him I feel.
I’m thrilled that our family is here. They wouldn’t miss Mick’s big night for anything. Mama T shines like a diamond in a silver gown, her long, salt and pepper hair styled in a French chignon. “You look beautiful,” I tell her.
James and Maria are jubilant, dressed up and sipping champagne, enjoying a rare evening without the kids. Victor and Dwayde make a handsome father and son pair in matching tuxes, with Isabelle wearing a blue princess dress—her pretty face rouged and powdered for the occasion.
Gabi, oh wow, catches my breath. She is a head-turner in a sparkling pearl trumpet gown that clings to her slim curves. The flirty updo showsoff her gorgeous features and bare back. Mick and Victor step in the path of a young man who is doing nothing more than giving their little sister an appreciative once-over. Gabi will be graduating next month and off to Georgia Tech at the end of the summer to study bioengineering. We are all so proud of her but God help any guy who sets his sights on the smart and stunning Gabrielle Torres with Mick and Victor running interference.
Before dinner begins, everyone findstheir assigned tables. We’re located at the front. Mick pulls out two chairs for Mama T and me, giving us both a direct view to the stage. Our elegant meal consists of wild mushroom in puff pastry on a bed of warm greens followed by filet mignon topped with lobster. I don’t eat much of mine—too nervous and excited for Mick.
I return from the restroom after freshening up my lipstick when Chairwoman Jasmine Clarke goes to the podium. She acknowledges the attendees and Mick. He sits beside me with an air of calm, his hand resting on my thigh under the table.
The chairwoman talks about the foundation’s good works, then extolls praise on the importance of Mick’s contributions—highlighting Papa’s Kids, the land he donated for the new recreational complex in Springvale, and his charitable support of causes benefitting abused and homeless children.
“Without further ado, it is my esteemed privilege to welcome to the stage this year’s recipient of the Generosity of Spirit Award. None other than, Micah Peters.”
The room thunders with applause as Mick rises to his feet. He leans over to kiss my cheek then Mama T’s. She dabs at her damp eyes and reaches for my hand as we both watch the man we love take the stage with long, lithe strides and confidence.
Chairwoman Clark presents him with the plaque. They shake hands and pose for a few pictures. Then she discreetly slips to the back and Mick has the floor. He smiles, seeming to take it all in humbly.
“Thank you, Chairwoman Clark and the Foundation, for this prestigious honor,” he begins.
The deep baritone of his voice gives me goosebumps. Mick is a joy to look at and listen to. He is gracious and sincere. His speech sounds polished but unrehearsed. His voice catches when he talks about howCayo and Rita Torres were the role models that inspired him. He doesn’t skimp on giving gratitude to all his family or sharing the credit for Papa’s Kids with his team, having them stand for a round of applause. He speaks for ten minutes. Not long enough. I could listen to him for hours. When he brings it to a close, he looks right in my direction.
“I would like to share this award with the woman that lights up my life.” He raises the plaque. “Dee, baby, this is for you.”
I blush as the audience gets to their feet for a standing ovation. My friends and family cheer the loudest. When Mick beckons me to him, butterflies swarm my belly. I hug Mama T and meet Mick, where he’s waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He offers his arm and escorts me up onto the stage. I greet the chairwoman with a friendly handshake, and Mick and I pose for more pictures.
Nerves be damned, there’s no place else I’d rather be than right here, sharing this significant moment with my husband.
A short time later, wereturn to our table to enjoy a dessert platter with petite mousse cakes and Belgian chocolate truffles, that are almost as good as sex. Well, not sex with Mick, but still.
Our table is spirited. Whether a casual brunch at home or a fancy venue, that’s us. The only one who seems put out is Richard. Censure is etched into the prudish pinch of his brow. Fortunately, that doesn’t stop Lexie from delighting in my lively family, so different from the cold proper atmosphere that her mother and father created. It’s the scarce occasion when I actually get to see her relax from the rules of etiquette and rigid expectation.
After dessert, the orchestra playsfor the mixed-age crowd, segueing from Sinatra to Ed Sheeran and even throwing in some Bruno Mars. I’m on the dance floor with my friends and sisters when Mick approaches and whispers in my ear, “Don’t expend all your energy here.”
