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As I walk away to my suite, she’s still standing there, her head slightly tilted, puzzled. Gorgeous.
I pick Tessa up from her room a few hours later, and my jaw damn near drops to the floor.
She’s got a shimmery black dress on that hugs every curve, and it’s cut low enough to show just a hint of her stunning tits, but not too low that anyone could accuse her of dressing inappropriately.
“Wow, you look gorgeous,” I eventually manage. “Damn. Maybe I should’ve made more of an effort.”
Her lips bloom into a beautiful smile; she’s pleased at the compliment. “You don’t scrub up half bad yourself, Mr. Adler.”
I offer her an arm. Hesitation gleams in her eyes, but she takes it and lets me lead her down the carpeted hallway. Warm light from the sconces on the walls dance on Tessa’s dress, highlighting a different part of her alluring body with every step she takes.
We’re eating in the hotel restaurant—one of the fanciest in Paris, with a price tag to match. The world’s most beautiful people dine here, but I know for a fact that Tessa will be the most stunning woman in the room.
Heads turn and eyes widen as we enter, and I can’t help but puff up my chest a little because she’s here with me, she’s on my arm.
If only she could see that we’re perfect for each other. I could do this forever.
A fifty-something couple already sitting at a table waves at us. Tessa notices them and gives them a small, nervous smile.
“They look familiar,” she says under her breath.
“Yeah. You’ve probably seen my parents in the media.” I hold my breath, not sure how she’ll react.
Tessa turns to throw me a discreet dirty look. She hisses through the side of her mouth, “Your parents? You said it was going to be a business meeting!”
“I talk business with my parents all the time.” I throw her a smile as I notice that irresistible flare of her nostrils I like so much.
She stares at me, unconvinced. But she plays it perfectly cool, giving my Mom a kiss on the cheek and my Dad a little hug.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Adler,” she says breezily. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“And you, Tessa,” Mom says. “Sorry if we’re interrupting your romantic weekend away. It’s just that Luke’s father and I are in Paris, and so we thought it would be perfect to finally see you.”
She throws me a pointed look. Romantic weekend away?
“He never tells us anything,” Mom continues obliviously. “We found out that he’d gotten married exactly the same way that everyone else did—through the tabloids! Honestly, dear, why didn’t you say anything?”
Tessa looks extremely uncomfortable with this line of questioning, and I do my best to steer the conversation away from it. “Oh, you know me, Mom. Mr. Spontaneity. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. It just felt like the right thing to do in the moment. Besides, I knew you guys were traveling and I didn’t want to bother you and force you to fly home and all that stuff.”
Mom opens her mouth to say something else, but Dad can see what’s up and kicks her under the table. Thanks, Dad.
Tessa gradually starts to loosen up as we move away from the topic of our marriage, and eventually she seems to even start enjoying herself.
Mom embarrasses me by sharing stories from when I was a kid, and Dad peppers me with questions about the business. I try my best to answer, but I’m distracted by Tessa’s leg pressing against mine.
Please, not now. The last thing I need is a raging erection while I’m having dinner with my parents. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Holy fuck, why does this woman turn me on so much?
“Philip, stop asking all these boring business questions,” Mom eventually says. “Can’t we just have a nice meal and a chat with Tessa without ‘revenue forecasts’ and ‘investor relations?’ Honestly!”
I laugh. “See? This is why I work so hard, Dad. I need you to stay retired and not come back to work and bother me.”
Dessert arrives and Mom and Dad share more anecdotes about our family, mischief I got up to, stuff like that. Tessa is perfectly polite and asks all the right questions, but I get a sense of . . . almost melancholy from her when they’re on the topic. I wonder why it is.
My parents leave after dessert, saying that they want to take a walk along the Seine. I used to find it strange how much they seem to enjoy each other’s company after so many years together, but I think I’m starting to understand now, thanks to Tessa.
As we all say our goodbyes, I get a look from both of them that tells me they approve of Tessa—they’ve never much liked any of my other partners.
