“I want you to meet my mom,” I tell her after she comes out of the bathroom with her hair piled on top of her head. She stops in her tracks and looks at me. “Well, actually my mom and my dad.”
“When?” Her feet finally move as she comes to bed and gets in.
“Um, in Paris.” I turn to look at her. She is wearing my T-shirt that I had on when I walked in the room. “They are going to be there, and I want you to meet them.”
“I don’t . . .” she starts to say, and I pull her to me.
“Please.” Her eyes come to mine. “I really, really want her to meet you.”
“But what are you going to tell them?” I’ve been contemplating that same question since I decided I wanted her to meet my mother. I want to be able to say, “Hey, Mom, this is my girlfriend.” I want to be fucking normal for once.
“We can tell them we are dating, or we can tell them you’re a friend.” Not sure why but the second part feels like acid coming out of my mouth. “It really doesn’t matter to me as long as you meet them.”
“But what about the press?” she asks the age-old question. “What about Cassie? What about the paparazzi? It’s the official release.”
“We can have dinner privately with just the four of us.” I answer one question at a time. “Cassie will not be there, and I won’t tell her about it either.” Taking a deep breath, I say, “I just want to be a normal guy who wants to introduce his parents to a girl who is really cool. That he likes a lot, that he scratches all his itches with.”
“Okay,” she says softly. She crawls to me, and throwing a leg over me, she straddles me. Now my cock thinks it’s time for another round. “I’ll meet your mom and dad.”
She kisses me, holding my face in her small hands. “Thank you.” Pulling her close to me, I say, “I think I have another itch.”
She sits up straight. “Really?” She grabs the shirt, tossing it over her head. “Me, too.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jessica
This secret couple were spotted strolling on the beach hand in hand in Malibu.
“I think that was the fastest flight we’ve had,” I say to Tyler, unbuckling my seat belt to stand. He got on last, and lucky for me, the seat next to me was open. “We only watched one episode of Dateline.”
“I called the last case,” he says, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. His shirt rises a touch, showing his smooth stomach; a stomach I am very familiar with. I stand next to him as we walk out of the plane, and I hold onto the railing since I’m wearing heels. Even though we aren’t meeting his parents today, I dressed up a bit just in case. I’m wearing my tight dark gray pants with the same color belt tied in a bow on the side. I paired it with my tight white long-sleeved, slightly off-the-shoulder shirt. Holding my bag next to me, I get on the bus, and we make our way to the Four Seasons.
Once we stop and I grab my bag, I make my way past the two doormen who hold the doors open for us and look around in awe when we get into the lobby. Yamina and Yolanda are both there with huge smiles on their face. “I hope you guys are ready to be pampered,” she says to us. “Not only are we here for an extra day, but to thank you all for your amazing work, Tyler has included a spa package for all of you,” she says while she hands us our room card. I look around at the marble lobby. A crystal chandelier hangs in the middle of the room, and mirrored vases containing pink roses decorate the room. Two archways are to the left, and the front desk is to the right. A huge painting covers the wall behind the brown marble desk.
I grab my key card from Yamina. “Thank you so much.” Smiling, I turn and walk away, only to bump into a beautiful lady a tad shorter than I am. Her blond hair is in a short bob, curled under at the sides. “I’m so sorry. I have a bad habit of looking down.” A taller man comes over and puts his hands on her shoulders. His hair is black like a certain someone and his eyes the exact shade of his son’s. Great. The first time I meet his parents, I almost run down his mom.
“Everything okay?” his father asks his mother, who looks at him and nods and then looks back at me with a huge smile.
“It’s fine, dear,” she says softly.
“Mom, Dad,” Tyler says from beside me, and I turn to him. He puts one hand on my lower back. Then he walks to his mother and hugs her, her hands going around his waist.
“Tyler.” The loving softness of her voice gets to me a bit, and I try to sneak off. “You look wonderful.” Pushing him away and holding his cheeks, she looks in his eyes.
“Mom”—he laughs—“let me say hello to Dad.” She lets him go, and he walks to his father, who is just a touch taller than he is. I watch them and see the tall, burly man take his son in his arms and slap his back. He stands back from his father with his hand on his shoulder, and he looks over at me. “I see you met my parents,” he says, and I nod.
“I bumped into your mom,” I admit, looking at her and seeing that she is wearing blue jeans and a simple white T-shirt with Chanel ballerina flats, that I can tell she didn’t buy herself.
“Mom, Dad,” he says with a smile, “this is Jessica, one of the reporters on the press tour.” I breathe a sigh of relief of sorts that he didn’t give our relationship or whatever we have away. “Jessica, these are my parents, Susanna and Frank.”
I reach out my hand to shake his mother’s hand, but she pulls me to her and envelops me in a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you,” I say, and then look at Frank, who leans in with a side hug and kisses me on the cheek.
His mother is about to say something else when I hear Cassie’s voice. I think I hide the cringe right away, but his mother looks at me, almost as if she is checking to see something. “Frank, Susanna,” she says, almost pushing me out of the way so she can hug his mother and then kiss his father on the cheek, “I’m so excited you’re here.” She looks at them and then at me; her disdain for me is apparent, but she just ignores me and looks back at Susanna. “Did you get the stuff I sent?”
“I did, dear.” She nods her head. “But the room, it’s just too much.”
“Oh, please,” she says, waving off with her hand. “I’m just so excited you guys are here. I’m trying to set up a couple of dinners.” She looks at Tyler, who looks back at her. “I’m just waiting for Tyler to give me the plans.”
“I told you I would take care of it,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets.
“If you guys will excuse me,” I say, not sure I want to be here. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” I smile at them and walk around them. As I walk to the elevator, I’m angry that Cassie was around, angry that I almost ran his mother over the first time I met her, and angry that, well, I’m not sure what, but I’m angry.
I look down at the key card and get into the elevator, then press my floor. Scanning my key card when I reach the door, I open it, and my feet sink into the plush carpet. I kick off my heels, closing the door behind me. The closet is right in front of the door, so I place my luggage near it and walk into the room. The colors are a light blue gray and ivory; a king bed sits in the middle of the room with a bedside table on each side. I put my purse on the sitting bench at the end of the bed and walk to the bathroom that is, of course, all marble. Turning on the lights in the room, I grab my computer and sit on the bed. My phone rings as soon as I power up the computer, and looking down, I see it’s Tyler.