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That’s when Nadia suddenly turns over her shoulder and catches me staring. Yes, my dream girl catches me eyeball-groping her butt for the second time this week.
It’s déjà-vu, all over again. Fuck.
Self-consciously untying her T-shirt, she allows the crinkled fabric to cover up her luscious ass. Her untrusting eyes flash to me before turning her attention to my grandmother. She strolls over to meet us near the door.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Westbrook. You missed the dance class!” She pouts, slipping her feather boa from around her narrow shoulders and delicately draping it around my Grammy. “I was just about to leave for the day. Your French instructor is running a bit late but he’ll be here soon.”
“Don’t worry, darling,” my grandmother says reassuringly, patting Nadia on the arm. “I’m sure the girls will help me learn the dance steps.”
“You know we will,” one of the other ladies calls out with a mischievous grin. “You’re leaving her in good hands.”
“Delores, you know I don’t trust you one bit,” Nadia laughs, grabbing her purse from the corner of the room.
“You shouldn’t.” The white-haired woman winks over her shoulder, ushering my grandmother to the table where the ladies have now discarded their boas. They’re sipping on coffee and passing a stack of French workbooks around the table.
Nadia’s laughter cuts off abruptly when her eyes fall on me, still staring at her like a weirdo.
“Hi.” I smile at her.
She bites the inside of her cheek and hesitates. “Hi.”
“Nice dance moves.”
“Thank you.” She nods curtly, squeezing past me to slip through the door. She doesn’t let me get another word in, leaving her subtle buttercream fragrance to intoxicate me. “See ya, Harry.”
“See ya.”
Fuck. I want to ask her out. I want to go after her and ask her on a date with me. But before I can get my shit together, she slips into the washroom.
My head is drawn back to the middle of the room when I hear my grandmother bossing everyone around. “Alright, gals. I have a mission for you,” her voice rings out. Someone cuts the rap music and Grammy has everyone’s attention. “Harry is in need of a girlfriend.”
Oh, shit.
I jog off in her direction and help her settle into her chair. “Um, that won’t be nec—”
“I know just the girl!” One of the grannies hops up, hustling over to her purse.
“What’s your sign, hot stuff? Are you a scorpio?” another woman shoots in my direction.
I try again. “I appreciate it but—”
“You’d love my niece. Let me look up her number for you.”
“My grandbaby is a model. You’d look so good together. And you’d make beautiful babies,” another old lady pipes up.
My head’s on a swivel, struggling to keep up with these crazy ladies.
“Y’all can just chill out,” Nadia’s grandmother preens. “I call dibs on that tall, good-looking man. My Nadia would eat up the competition and spit out the bones. She’s a pretty one, isn’t she, Sonny? And she’s smart, too. And she won’t come after you for your money ‘cause she has her own. Plus, have you seen the ass on that girl?”
I most definitely have.I shoot a wink in her direction, grateful to have Nancy Chester on my side.
But the other women won’t give up so easily. The arguing only intensifies in the room.
“What! Who gives you the dibs, Nancy?”
“I say we pull names from a hat. It’s only fair.”
From there, things get a little heated. One minute, these old ladies are the best of friends, and the next, they’re looking to order a hit on each other’s granddaughters. The argument takes a weird direction, when they start cutting deals to decide who gets to have me. Apparently, they want my good genetics to ‘mingle’ with their granddaughters’.
