Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Mom, you look perfect.” Wyatt takes her hand. “Stop fussing.”
Honest to God, in the few short weeks we’ve been dating, I have grown to seriously respect that little shit. I have no idea how most kids are, but this one is intelligent as fuck and hilarious besides.
“Listen to Baby Yoda, Margot. She’s very wise.”
Wyatt giggles, pleased with the nickname.
She lets go of her mom’s hand, and I take it instead, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be fine.” I try to sound more confident than I’m starting to feel. “Your parents are going to love me.”
She gives me a skeptical look as I pull open the door for them. “You don’t know my parents.”
Uh—what’s that supposed to mean? I don’t ask; instead I guide them into the lobby.
“No, but I know you,” I counter. “And if you love me, they’ll love me too.” Here I go boasting about things I know nothing about. Like meeting parents and blended families.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “You’re right, you’re right. They’re going to love you. After all, they never stop hounding me to date.”
Yeah. She’s told me all about how her mom is always trying to set her up with her friends’ divorced sons, or men she meets in the grocery store.
We walk into the restaurant, the familiar scent of Italian food wafting through the air. My stomach grumbles on cue as the hostess leads us to a table toward the back where Margot’s parents are already seated.
They stand as we approach, her father’s expression stern, her mother’s more curious.
They both give me a once-over.
“Mom, Dad, this is Dex,” Margot says, her voice slightly trembling. “Dex, these are my parents, Robert and Lydia.”
Robert is a tall dude with distinguished gray hair at the temples and an imposing presence. He extends his hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Dex.”
His grip is firm.
Super firm.
Wyatt hugs her grandpa while he’s shaking my hand, giggling the entire time.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I reply, our fists moving up and down, and I do my best not to wince at the strength of his handshake. What’s he trying to do, crush my palm?
Damn, Robert, relax.
Her mother, a petite woman with sparkling eyes, steps forward next to hug me.
“Please sit,” she says after giving me a squishy, warm hug. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Wyatt, Margot, and I take our seats at a big round table—not too far from the one I was at with Madisson and within earshot of the bathrooms. Ha!
“I hope she didn’t tell you the story about my agent.” I throw out a zinger, verbal diarrhea rearing its ugly head. Since when am I nervous around parents? Fuck. I told her they were going to love me, and here I am, talking out of my asshole.
Lydia tilts her head toward Margot. “I don’t recall a story about your agent.”
A foot nudges mine beneath the table to keep my mouth shut, and I do my best to look unfazed.
Once we’re settled, the waiter comes to take our drink orders. Margot’s parents order wine, but I stick with water, wanting to keep a clear head. The last thing I need is to spew more garbage about agents and fuckups since it looks as if that’s the path I’m veering down.
Margot squeezes my hand under the table.
“So. Dex,” Robert begins, taking on a businesslike tone. It’s a fatherly expression to show me he’s ready to get staunch and serious. “How did the two of you meet?”
This is it—my time to shine. The perfect opening to razzle and dazzle.
Margot and I exchange a quick glance. “Well, it’s a bit of a funny story,” she starts. “We actually met here for the first time. At this restaurant.”
“Oh?” Her mother’s eyes practically glitter with interest. “I would have guessed a dating app.” She winks, attempting to be hip and in the know of the younger crowd.
I rub the back of my neck nervously, and her father notices. He’s like a hawk, this guy.
“I was here, uh, on a date with another woman, and things weren’t going well because—” I want to bang my head on the table. Why did I just tell Margot’s parents I was here with another woman?
“Oooh, oooh!” Wyatt interrupts, waving an arm in the air as if she were raising her hand at school. “Can I tell it? Can I?”
Margot’s eyes go wide. We’re now entering dangerous territory. How will her parents feel about me paying a child to do my dirty work for me? Or the fact I tried climbing out a restroom window?
She nibbles her lip, concerned. “I don’t know, Dex—can she tell the story?”
I nod slowly. “It’s her story as much as it is ours.”
Wyatt practically bounces out of her seat, thrilled to be the star storyteller, a captive audience ready to hang on her every dramatic word.