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His smile was heartening. He was proud of himself and the work he’d put in to make this night special for us. Without a doubt, my gratitude would be felt before the sun rose and our son came home.
“Choose one.”
“Bottom.”
He stood and removed the top box, handing me the one at the bottom. I slid back in my chair to accommodate the massive block of cardboard. The bow that held it together was orange, resembling the box with one of my favorite designers sprawled across the top.
I unboxed a classic black Birkin with gold detailing that made me sick to my stomach. It was stunning. The leather was quality, easily distinguished by its thickness and sturdiness. Our server made her way out of the door just as my eyes landed on the second, identical box.
“Milo. Baby, you didn’t have to… have to do this.”
“I did.”
“Then what’s in the other one?”
“A Kelly. In white.”
“Seriously? Were you just giving Hermès all your money?”
“Baby, if that was all my money, you shouldn’t be fucking with me.” He chuckled, finding my question hilarious. “That’s less than a hundred bands. You into broke niggas?”
“I’m not into anyone, Milo.”
“Better not be,” he stated, nodding his head. “Nevertheless, if it makes you feel any better, that didn’t even dent my account. I promise I won’t miss a dime of what was spent on any of this. I won’t even notice it’s gone. And don’t act like your account isn’t massive, Nature. You’re in a realm that will never see a day of downtime.”
“Tell me about it. I’m not sure what my account looks like. I don’t check it, honestly. My accountant handles all finances.”
“See. The luxury of never having to check your account and needing an accountant tells me you’re swimming in bread.”
“Mason’s tuition has to get paid one way or another,” I tittered.
“By his father.”
“If you insist, but I hope you understand that I can handle some of the finances.”
“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you will. I got it. I got you. Stack your bread, baby. Leave it to the kids for when we get on up out of here.”
“Hopefully, that won’t be for another one hundred years.”
“Hopefully,” he agreed. “Just want to make sure they’re straight. Their children are straight. Their children. And their children.”
“They, huh?” I blushed, visions of several mini Milos swarming me at once.
“Don’t play with me, Nature Dupree.”
“I’m not, Dr. Domino.”
“She likes you,” he blurted.
“Hm?”
“Our server. She likes you.”
“Milo, she’s just doing her job, which she happens to do well.”
I hadn’t noticed the lemon drop in front of me, neither had I noticed the drink in Milo’s hand. Completely lost in those dark eyes and that alluring smile, I didn’t see her re-enter or exit.
“Hey, maybe I’m wrong, but I highly doubt it.”
