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Alisha's laugh fills the room. "Emma, that's ridiculous. It's Nick Brown. I don't think he lets a six-year-old girl manipulate him."
I give both women a sarcastic eye roll. "You know how convincing Charlotte can be," I say.
"Oh my God, wait a minute." Bella jumps up off her chair, walks to her bag, and pulls out a magazine. She flips eagerly through the pages before pausing and turning it around with a gigantic smile. "This Nick Brown?"
I glance at the picture, and my cheeks blaze red as lustful thoughts overtake my brain.
"That's him," Alisha confirms, drooling over the picture of a sweaty and bare-chested Nick Brown, his chocolate orbs gazing sensually into the camera.
"Goddamn, I want a piece of him. I won't be picky. Any part of him is fine with me," Alisha says, pointing to his body.
"Emma, that man is panty-dropping fine," Bella adds as she turns to Alisha. "And you're saying this delicious man bid ten thousand dollars on our Emma?"
Alisha nods, her eyes still roaming the picture. It shows he creates this Pavlov reaction in every woman that sees him.
"Okay, enough. Put that magazine away," I say while crossing my arms.
Bella faces me. "Emma, are you blushing?" she quips with glistening eyes, and my cheeks become even more flushed.
"Ah, Bella! If you'd seen Charlotte and him together, your ovaries would have gone haywire. They were adorable. She calls him Giant, and he calls her Smarty."
Alisha's eyes turn back to the picture. "Sweet baby Jesus, I want to lick the sweat from his body. I'd pay money to have those rock-hard abs on top of me. That man is desirable as hell. I wonder how generous his—"
"Both of you, stop it," I say, slamming my hand on the table in frustration. Alisha ignores me and continues.
"Okay, did Emma tell you she had an earlier encounter with Mr. Brown? She has called this man an arrogant, insensitive jerk and a pudding-head. To his face."
Bella gasps for air. "Oh my God, she didn't!" They both laugh.
"When did this happen?" Bella asks with a bright, curious smile.
“Yesterday.” Alisha shrugs. "She practically crashed into his car. She got mad and called him those things."
Both women turn and await my reaction.
"I didn't know that was him, and he deserved every word," I shout. "If you two will excuse me, I need to talk to Charlotte." I walk out of the kitchen, and when I arrive at her bedroom door, I take a deep breath before I knock.
"Yes?" a soft voice whispers and I open the door. Charlotte's bedroom is cozy. The walls are full of drawings she made and posters of the planets and dogs. She is sitting at her desk, drawing, and her straight posture tells me she's waiting for me to start this conversation.
"We need to talk, sweetie."
"I know." She continues drawing as I walk to her desk and kneel next to her.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Charlotte. But you shouldn't have begged Nick to bid on me, sweetie."
"Why not? He thought you looked pretty, Mommy." Her eyes dart to me. "He calls me Smarty."
My heart is pounding as worry snakes through my body. Charlotte has attached herself to Nick. "Charlotte, I've told you I'm not mad. I'm just saying that I won't go out with Nick."
"Why not? He's nice and funny!"
"Because I don't want to," I say, knowing that's a lie.
"But Mom, you have to."
"No, Charlotte. I'm not going out with Nick, and that's it."
She jumps off her stool. Her entire body shakes. "I hate you!" she shouts at the top of her lungs, and it nails me to the floor.
