Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ashley
The past couple of days had been a blur, flights stacking up like crazy, keeping me on my toes.
I’d been hopping between short hauls, Dallas one day, Charlotte the next, barely touching down long enough to sleep at Riva’s place before heading back to the airport.
Darryl and I hadn’t crossed paths since that flight to L.A.
and the fake girlfriend stunt at the terminal.
I’d been too slammed to think much about it, just texting him quickly to confirm Sunday’s dinner before diving back into work.
Now it was the day, and I stood in Riva’s living room, staring at a pile of dresses on the couch, my hair still damp from a shower.
I needed to look good, sell this whole thing to his family, and I was dragging Riva into it.
“Okay,” I said, holding up a navy wrap dress. “This one? It’s cute but not too fancy.”
Riva flopped onto the armchair, sipping a soda, her legs dangling over the side. “Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “Too boring. You’re meeting his mom, not going to a staff meeting. Pick something with pop.”
“Fine,” I said, tossing it aside and grabbing a red one with a little ruffle at the hem. “This? It’s bright.”
“Better,” she said, tilting her head. “But still meh. You’re his girlfriend, fake or not. Go bold. That green one’s calling your name.”
I dug through the pile, pulling out a forest green dress, knee-length with a fitted waist and a flowy skirt. “This?” I said, holding it up. “It’s kinda loud.”
“Exactly,” she said, grinning. “Put it on. You’ll look hot, and Darryl’s grumpy face might crack.”
“Shut up,” I said, laughing as I headed to the bathroom to change. I slipped it on, smoothing it down in the mirror. It hugged me just right, the green popping against my skin, and I twirled a little, liking the way it moved. I stepped out, spinning for Riva. “Well?”
“Damn,” she said, sitting up. “That’s it. You’re a knockout. He’s gonna choke on his roast.”
“Stop,” I said, rolling my eyes, but I grinned. “It’s good, right? Not too much?”
“Nope,” she said, hopping up to circle me. “Perfect. Add those gold earrings and some heels, and you’re golden. His family’s gonna eat it up.”
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the earrings from my bag. “I’m nervous, though. What if they grill me?”
“They will,” she said, smirking. “But you’ve got this. Just flash that smile and play the part. You’re already good at messing with him.”
“True,” I said, slipping the earrings on. “He’s been grumpy all week. I’m ready to win them over.”
“You will,” she said, plopping back down. “And when’s the wedding? You two are cute, fake or not.”
“Shut it,” I said, tossing a pillow at her. “It’s just dinner.”
“Sure,” she said, dodging the pillow with a laugh. “Tell me that when he’s staring at you in that dress.”
I was about to fire back when the doorbell rang, cutting me off. My stomach flipped. “That’s him,” I said, smoothing my hair. “How do I look?”
“Like his dream girl,” she said, winking. “Go get him.”
I opened the door, and there was Darryl, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets. He was in a dark button-up and jeans, looking sharp but still grumpy, his mouth set in a line. “Hey,” he said, his eyes flicking over me. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping out. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” Riva called from behind me, leaning into view. “Look at you two! Matching all cute. When’s the first date?”
“Riva,” I said, shooting her a look. “Stop.”
“What?” she said, grinning. “You’re adorable. Darryl, tell her she looks hot.”
“She’s fine,” he said, his voice gruff, but I caught him glancing at me again. “Let’s go.”
“Fine?” Riva said, laughing. “Weak, man. She’s a ten. Step it up.”
“Bye, Riva,” I said, pulling the door shut as she cackled. Darryl shook his head, leading me to his car, a black sedan parked out front.
“She’s a lot,” he said, opening my door.
“Yeah,” I said, sliding in. “But she’s right about the dress, huh?”
“It’s good,” he said, shutting the door and walking around. He got in, starting the engine, and I grinned at him.
“Good?” I said, Buckling up. “Come on, you can do better.”
“You look nice,” he said, pulling out, his eyes on the road. “Happy?”
“Getting there,” I said, settling back. “You’re still grumpy, though.”
“Always,” he said, but his mouth twitched, almost a smile. I’d take it.
The drive to his place wasn’t long, just through some quiet streets, the city lights fading behind us. We pulled up to a two-story house, warm light spilling from the windows, and my nerves kicked up again. “Okay,” I said, unbuckling. “Game face on.”
“Yeah,” he said, getting out. “They’re pushy. Stick with me.”
“Got it,” I said, following him up the walk. He rang the bell, and the door swung open fast, his mom standing there, apron on, smiling big.
“Darryl!” she said, pulling him into a hug. “And you must be Ashley. Come in!”
“Hi,” I said, stepping inside with a smile. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for having me.”
“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said, taking my jacket. “I’m Nancy. Darryl’s kept you a secret too long. Look at you, so pretty!”
“Thanks,” I said, laughing a little. “He’s not big on sharing.”
“No kidding,” she said, leading us to the living room. “This is Ted, my husband, and Jen, our daughter.”
“Hey,” Ted said, standing up from an armchair, shaking my hand. “Good to meet you.”
“Hi,” Jen said, popping up from the couch, grinning. “You’re real! I thought he made you up.”
“Nope,” I said, grinning back. “All real. Nice to meet you both.”
“Sit,” Nancy said, waving at the couch. “Dinner’s almost ready. Darryl, help me in the kitchen.”
“Yeah,” he said, following her, leaving me with Ted and Jen. I sat, smoothing my dress, and Jen slid closer.
“So,” she said, leaning in. “How’d you get him? He’s such a grump.”
“He is,” I said, laughing. “We met at work. I just kept bugging him till he gave in.”
“Smart,” she said, nodding. “He needs that. You’re cool.”
“Thanks,” I said, relaxing. “He’s not so bad once you crack him.”
“Crack him?” Ted said, chuckling. “Good luck. He’s been grumpy since he was ten.”
“I’m trying,” I said, smiling. “He’s warming up.”
Nancy called us to the dining room, and we filed in, the table set with a big roast, potatoes, and rolls. Darryl was already there, setting out glasses, and I slid into the chair next to him. “Smells amazing,” I said, nudging him. “Your mom’s a pro.”
“Yeah,” he said, pouring water. “She’s alright.”
“Alright?” Nancy said, sitting down. “I’m great. Ashley, tell me about yourself. How’d you two start?”
“We work together,” I said, passing the potatoes. “I’m a flight attendant. We kept getting the same flights, and I guess I grew on him.”
“Grew on him,” Jen said, smirking. “Like mold?”
“Hey,” Darryl said, shooting her a look. “She’s fine.”
“Fine?” I said, turning to him. “You’re killing it with the compliments.”
“He’s hopeless,” Nancy said, laughing. “You’re lovely, Ashley. How long have you been together?”
“A month or so,” I said, keeping it vague. “It’s new.”
“New,” Ted said, cutting his roast. “He’s kept it quiet. You must be special.”
“She is,” Darryl said, his voice low but firm, and I bumped his knee under the table, grinning.
“Aw,” Jen said, clasping her hands. “You’re cute. When’s the wedding?”
“Slow down,” I said, laughing. “We’re just figuring it out.”
“Good,” Nancy said, smiling. “Take your time. But you’re welcome here anytime.”
“Thanks,” I said, digging into my food. “This is so good. You’ll have to teach me.”
“Anytime,” she said, beaming. “Darryl, you picked a keeper.”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing at me. “She’s alright.”
“Alright?” I said, nudging him again. “I’m great. Say it.”
“Fine,” he said, a small grin breaking through. “You’re great.”
“Finally,” I said, and the table laughed, the room warm and easy.
We ate, swapping stories, me telling them about a passenger who spilled juice all over me last week, Jen cracking up, Ted asking about flying.
Darryl stayed quiet mostly, but he didn’t scowl, and I caught him smiling a couple of times.
I fit in, and it felt good, fake or not.
After dinner, I helped clear plates, chatting with Nancy about her recipe, and Jen dragged me to see her old yearbook photos of Darryl, all awkward braces and bad hair.
“He’s gonna kill you,” I said, laughing, and he just groaned from the couch.
By the time we left, I was stuffed and happy, waving bye as we headed to his car.
“They like you,” he said, starting the engine.
“Good,” I said, buckling in. “I like them. You owe me big.”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling out. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” I said, grinning. “Fake girlfriend’s a pro now.”
He shook his head, but that grin stayed, and I leaned back, the night settling in. Busy days behind me, and I’d nailed this. Not bad at all.