7. Selena
Selena
Iburst into the terminal and hit the ground running. The bathroom up ahead gives me the opportunity to do just what I wanted, vanish. Making a quick shuffle to the right, I head into it and straight to a stall, shutting the door behind me as I let out a sigh of relief.
Did I really just run like a madwoman from the hot guy who wanted to take me on a date? That would be yes, because I’m a fucking idiot! But it’s not like we could ever have anything. He probably doesn’t live anywhere near me, besides, who really has a successful relationship from a booty call?
I really need to get my shit together. Not even twenty-four hours have passed, and I’ve slept with two men. One unprotected.
At that moment, I vow the next time I’m asked out or someone wants my number, I’ll give it to them. Also, my real name would be good as well.
I hang out in the bathroom, relieving myself, and freshening up until I’m pretty confident the coast is clear and then head out to baggage claim to collect my luggage.
Luck is on my side. I catch a glimpse of him, bag in hand, heading toward the exit. Crisis averted. But my heart breaks a little, knowing I screwed up a chance for what I bet would’ve been an amazing date.
I wait a little longer before heading outside to get a cab to the resort, just in case he’s waiting outside. Five minutes turn to ten, and finally I feel confident enough to leave. And I’m in luck as a cab is waiting when I get there.
The ride from the airport to the resort is uneventful, and I’m exhausted. It took everything in me not to fall asleep in the car.
I don’t care what Mom said, I’m not traipsing through the restaurant with my bags. She can wait a few extra minutes for me to check in, it won’t kill her.
We pull up in front of the resort hotel and the cab comes to a stop. I open my door and get out while the driver gets my bags from the trunk. I take a deep inhale, calming myself before I have to navigate Hurricane Julia—my mother.
I head straight for the reception desk to check in. My eyes scan the lobby, anxiously looking for my mother, so that I can avoid her if I see her. I have a plan and it’s to go straight to my room and take a nap if I can manage to do it. I’m fucking drained and I need shower. I reek of sex.
Stepping up to the counter, the middle aged, gray-haired man with his glasses perched on his nose looks up from his computer. “How can I help you?”
“I’m checking in.” I let go of my luggage, placing my purse on the counter as I pull out my wallet.
“Name, please?”
“Selena Middleton.” I hand over my driver’s license and he takes it, looking at it before typing on his keyboard.
“Ahh, here we are. Your room has already been covered and there’s a credit card already on file for your incidentals.”
My mouth drops open. What the hell? When has my mom ever been this generous? It has to be her future husband's doing. Then I have a wicked thought. What if it’s her card? She did drag me here, much to my dismay, so the minibar may just be calling my name.
Thank you, Mom.
He hands back my license, along with my room key, directing me to the elevator.
I don’t hesitate and head straight to my room. Luckily the elevator is fast, and I find my room easily.
Walking in, I look around and check out my new home for the weekend.
It’s spacious with a king-size bed, table, and a dresser with a large flat screen television sitting on top of it.
In the corner is a wet bar, which I will definitely be hitting up, especially if I’m going to be dealing with my mother.
Thanks again for covering those incidentals. The curtains are pulled back, showing the balcony. Mom and the new stepdaddy definitely picked a nice place.
I drop my bags and flop down on the soft bed. Traveling is exhausting and a nap sounds pretty good. But first, I need to update Mom. I pull out my phone, knowing she’ll be blowing it up soon if I don’t message her.
Me: Hey Mom, I’ve just checked in and I’m in my room.
I’ve barely hit send when the check turns green and bubbles dance up and down on my screen.
Mom: What do you mean checked in? You were to message me when you arrived so we could go eat.
Me: I didn’t want to carry my luggage to the restaurant. It’s just a few more minutes. If you’re that hungry go without me, I could use a nap anyway.
Please say you don’t want me to come. If I were a lucky person then that’s what she would be telling me. But I know she’s not.
Mom: Do you enjoy embarrassing me?
Me: How am I doing that? I just checked into my room; that’s it.
Mom: We have been waiting for you to eat. Abel wants to meet his future daughter. And we do have plans that don’t involve you.
Me: Stepdaughter, Mom, I already have a father.
How dare she think she can replace him!? I’ll never call or think of anyone else as my father. I take a deep breath, knowing I just need to get through this weekend, so if it means sucking up to her, I will.
Me: I’m sorry. I could only get here as fast as the plane traveled. And I’m really tired. Wouldn’t dinner be a better choice?
I roll my eyes, knowing it won’t matter; it will be my fault, like always. Her unhappiness is because of me.
Mom: No. we are in the restaurant downstairs. Hurry and get here. And make sure you look presentable. You are an extended representation of me.
Picking up a pillow, I cover my mouth with it and scream.
Me: Fine, Mom. I’m on my way. But you’re getting me the way I am. Tired and disheveled from a day of traveling.
And smelling like sex. But I don't say that to her. She’d be on the rampage lecturing me. I just can’t wait to see her face when I show up in leggings.
Reluctantly, I look down at my leggings. I hope she likes what I’m wearing. Snatching up the room key, I walk out the door and head back to the elevator.
Once I make it downstairs, I head straight for the restaurant and spot Mom immediately when I step inside.
She’s seated at a table, snuggled up against an older man with salt and pepper hair, muscled arms, and dark-rimmed glasses.
He’s gazing at her with a huge smile lighting up his face, and I just watch them for a second.
She is so happy.
The happiest I’ve seen her since my father passed away.
We may bicker a lot, and she might pick on every detail about me, but there’s still a deep need in me to see her happy.
I think it’s Dad. He’s probably rolling over in his grave at how we are to each other now.
If seeing her happy would bring a smile to his face, then I’m going to suck it up and take whatever she dishes out this weekend. I won’t ruin this for her.
Maybe there is someone out there for me when I eventually get my shit together. I mean, hell, she found love twice. Maybe I can find it once. Someone who sees me for me. Who loves all my flaws without trying to correct them.
Stepping up to the table, I clear my throat to pull them out of the tunnel vision they have on one another. “Mom, you look beautiful,” I tell her, as she stands, moving around the table to pull me into her arms, squeezing me tightly.
“Selena, I’m so glad you’re finally here.
One of Abel’s sons arrived early, but went to see the tailor.
He needed to get his tuxedo fitted to make sure it didn’t need any alterations before the wedding.
Luckily, all his sons wear the same size, so he is trying them on for all three, especially since Ezekiel may not get here until the morning of the wedding.
” Her eyes scan my body when she pulls away.
I can already see the distaste in her mouth.
“We had hoped they would’ve gotten here earlier so we could all eat lunch together, but their work schedule didn’t allow it.
” My mother pouts and Abel jumps up to comfort her.
I can already tell she has him wrapped around her finger, falling for her charade of woe is me.
Smile. Be happy. Don’t let her get to me. I have to keep remembering these things.
“Oh, Pumpkin, it’ll be okay. My sons wouldn’t miss this for the world, and the wedding will be amazing.
” He turns her around to face him and kisses her on the forehead.
Damn if it doesn’t instantly soothe her.
He holds his hand out toward me, and I reach out to shake it, but instead, he pulls me into a hug.
“I finally have two beautiful women on my arm, my future bride and her daughter. I’m the luckiest man alive.
” He squeezes me, acting like we’ve known each other for ages, and as nice as he seems, being held in his arms isn’t somewhere I want to be.
Pulling out of his hold, I step back and take a seat. “Are you excited, Mom?” I ask, trying to get the lunch back on track. I’m ready for it to be over so I can take a shower and nap, in that order.
“Absolutely. Abel is such a good man.” That’s all she gives me before she gets right into business.
“Now, tomorrow night, we have the rehearsal dinner. In the morning, the seamstress will be here and wants to meet with you quickly to check that your dress fits. I know the last time you tried it on it did.”
I’m sure it still does; it’s not like I’ve gained any weight. I think to myself.
“I just worry about your health. I know how you struggle with your weight. And I don’t want you to be embarrassed if the dress has to be let out.”
Of course, she would sneak a snarky comment in.
My mother weighs maybe a hundred and five pounds and lives her life counting calories and working out.
She thinks because I have a butt and thicker thighs than any man would want wrapped around his waist, she assumes I’m fat.
‘Get with the ages, Mom,’ I want to scream at her.
Men want a woman with some meat on their bones.
And to top it off, I’m not even that overweight.
But if you don’t wear a size two, you’re fat in her eyes.
No person’s opinion will change that for her.
“Ahh, Pumpkin, I think she looks fine,” Abel says at the same moment our server steps up to the table.
She’s a fuller size woman, with auburn hair pulled back into a fierce bun, wearing a white shirt and black slacks.
“Good afternoon, my name is Buelah, and I’ll be your server today.
Can I get you started with some drinks and appetizers?
” She looks around the table, holding her order pad poised in her hand.
“I’ll have some water and a house salad, please,” I announce, wanting to be done with this meal as fast as possible. My mom has always been a little much, but since my dad passed away, her patronizing comments have gotten worse.
“Salad is a great option for you,” my mother cuts in snidely, and I see red. “If you don’t fit in your dress tomorrow, I’m not sure how much the seamstress can let out.”
I hold back the eye roll I want to give her and I silently count to five, calming myself before I speak again.
“If I have to get her a new dress, I don’t know what I’m going to do, Abel,” she whines.
“Pumpkin, I’m sure she’ll fit it fine and look lovely in it. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” He leans in and kisses her cheek and I want to barf.
“And I’d like to order my food as well. I had a late night and then had to rush to the airport and burned off a lot of energy on the flight.
” I smirk, wishing I could tell her how I burned those calories, but I don’t.
“Can I get your thickest, greasiest burger and some fries smothered in bacon and cheese, please?”
My mother sits there, her jaw dropped open in shock and disgust. Abel just has a smile on his face. “I love to see a woman with a hearty appetite and not afraid to order what she wants.”
Okay, he just got a point in his favor. I’m happy to see he doesn’t share the same mindset as my mother.
She turns in her seat and slaps him across his chest playfully. “That is until she’s as big as a house, and any potential husbands move on to the skinny girl. Don’t fill her head with delusions.”
Tired of it already and wanting to get back to my room, I ask Mom the question that’ll get her off the subject of my weight. “Why don’t you order so you can tell me all about the wedding plans and what we need to do tomorrow?”
She quickly orders her bird food and Abel orders the same as me, minus the cheese on the fries. Then she does exactly what I expect. She talks about herself for the rest of the lunch. I have to admit it’s her favorite topic, but it sounds like the wedding will be absolutely beautiful.
I don’t know how many times I yawn during the meal, but as I take my last bite, I know I can’t sit here any longer. My mom is still talking about the event and the honeymoon, so I have to butt in.
“Mom, I’m exhausted. I'm going to head to my room and take a nap. I’ll meet you in the lobby at nine tomorrow morning. We can get breakfast, go to the dress shop, and then get our nails done. Have a mother-daughter day.”
Her eyes light up and I’m actually smiling knowing I made her happy. Of course she is; the entire morning will be about her. She’ll be the center of attention.
“That sounds wonderful. Just make sure to wear something more presentable.” Her eyes narrow and her lips purse.
Seriously! I was on a plane for hours. And well, I also had some amazing sex, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Yes, Mother, I will ensure I look appropriate. Abel, it was lovely finally meeting you. And I look forward to meeting my future brothers. Please excuse me.” With that, I stand and leave the restaurant, heading toward the elevator. Ready to take off these clothes and take a nice, long, hot bath.
As I step inside the elevator and turn around, I swear I see a familiar face.
The one I left in bed when I snuck out of his room this morning.
It can't be possible. What would he be doing here? Did my one-night stand come back to haunt me? He chooses that moment to look in my direction. His eyes lock onto mine, and we’re stuck staring at each other until the doors slide shut.
Great, if he’s here, then I either have to work to avoid him or have another round of amazing sex. I have to admit, the second option does sound good. He’d be a great distraction when my mother gets on my nerves.
Pressing the button for the sixth floor, the elevator jerks in motion as I step back, resting against the wall. It halts to a stop on my floor, dinging as the doors fly open. The bath is calling my name and I need to mentally prepare for tomorrow.