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“Bye Daddy.”
Mr. Jones strode over to his wife, whispering something in her ear before heading out the door.
Angel squeezed Adam’s hand, grinning up at him. “I think he liked you. Normally he doesn’t make much effort to talk to someone new.”
“That was talking?”
“For him, for a first-time introduction, yes. Don’t worry, once he’s more comfortable around you he’ll talk more. Probably.”
“Ah. Okay. Good.”
While they waited for Angel’s mother to finish her conversation with her students, Angel pestered him with questions about his previous dance experience. That led to her dancing with him, wanting to find out what he knew—which took less than three minutes to show her.
By the time they were done with that, Angel’s mother was standing on the sidelines and she gave them a little smattering of applause. Mrs. Jones was like effervescent bubbles of personality, although her conversational style was scattered. She approached every single sentence with the kind of enthusiasm most people reserved for their favorite topics.
Comparing her to Angel was entertaining. Angel was so obviously a mix between her high-speed and verbose mother and her more laid-back father. Mrs. Jones didn’t physically bounce as she chattered, but she gave the impression she was a high-energy, bouncy person. Her hands fluttered in front of her as she spoke.
He also learned Angel could talk at extremely high speeds when she was conversing with her mother.
Somehow, in less than fifteen minutes, Mrs. Jones managed to learn everything Adam usually imparted to a new acquaintance over a full dinner. The rundown of his parents, job, schooling, friends, and as much as he could tell her about the beginning of his relationship with Angel had never been recounted so quickly.
They weren’t able to tear themselves free until some of Mrs. Jones’ students arrived for a private lesson. And he’d thought his mother was a talker. Good thing she lived in England. He had a feeling that when the two mothers met, he would want to find a place to hide. Mr. Jones would probably join him.
Then he realized, with a bit of a jerk, that he’d thought when the two mothers met, not if. Grinning, he took Angel’s hand in his as they headed back out to his car.
“What are you so happy about?” she asked, looking at him a bit suspiciously.
“Just glad your parents seemed to like me.”
Now when she smiled, he could see how much she resembled her mother. And if Angel aged anything like her mother, then he wasn’t going to have any complaints. “They did, didn’t they? Although I think you had it easy, it’s been a while since I introduced a guy to them, so they were prepared to like anyone.”
“Hey now, don’t take away from my glory,” he admonished her with a little glare.
Angel giggled. “Sorry.”
“Pest.”
“I will bite you if you call me that again.”
Angel
“Hey guys!” Lexie was positively brimming with happiness, seated at one of the tables at the bar rather than out at the front desk. Angel grinned, thrilled to see her friend inside the main room of the club—and not because of her party. Obviously, she was making some progress on her determined inclusion in Stronghold, although Angel couldn’t help but wonder how the young woman’s campaign on the club’s owner was faring. “Look where I am!”
Adam growled under his breath and Angel nudged him with her elbow. “They’ve finally let you through the door, huh?”
“Only into this room, and only when accompanied by one of my faithful Sentinels,” Lexie said, rolling her eyes and gesturing at the grouchy looking men arrayed around her. Olivia was the only dominant at the table who didn’t look out of sorts. Even Chris’ expression was clouded. Surprisingly, Patrick was nowhere in sight. “But the party was so popular and so many people e-mailed Patrick this week asking if he was going to do another one and when, that he’s agreed to let me do a Saint Patrick’s Day party! And since he already let me in this room for one night, it’d be silly to try to keep me out now.”
“Yeah, and look how that turned out, he ended up beating up your boyfriend,” Andrew said, glaring at the diminutive pixie. She beamed at him, completely oblivious to the threatening looming stance he had over her.
“Not my boyfriend anymore. And good riddance!”
“Cheers to that,” Chris said, his trademark grin flashing across his face. Then, as if remembering himself, he glanced around suspiciously at the various Doms scattered around the bar.
As if any of them were stupid enough to think about propositioning Lexie.
Poor Lexie. Even if she was ever allowed into the rest of the club, Angel didn’t think anyone would ever go against the displeasure of this group of Doms. Looking around the club, she didn’t see Mike. He had told her he might not be able to come to the club as often as he might want to right now. She had a feeling he’d be more sympathetic to Lexie’s situation, and it wasn’t like he would be in the position of seeing her as a little sister.
Not that she thought the two of them would make a good match or anything, but at least Lexie would get to play… if she was ever allowed on the other levels of the club, so it was a moot point right now anyway.
