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The soft clinking of silverware and low hum of conversation filled the apartment, blending with the faint jazz playing from the speaker in the corner.
The scent of garlic and herbs still hung thick in the air, the candles on the dining table flickering gently between them — a golden glow reflecting in the deep red of Angela Parker's wine.
Amanda sat across from her mom, trying to look calm while her heart thudded against her ribs.
Every time her gaze drifted toward Ericka, sitting so effortlessly composed at the head of the table, she found herself smiling — and then immediately forced herself to look down at her plate before her mom could notice.
But Angela noticed everything.
She always had.
Ericka had just finished serving another helping of pasta when Angela sighed happily. "This is delicious," she said, taking another bite. "I'm serious, this sauce tastes homemade. You said you ordered it?"
"Yes, from Pietro's," Ericka replied smoothly, her voice low and warm. "They make everything from scratch. We've been ordering from there since the campaign began — it's kind of our go-to spot."
Angela paused mid-bite. "Our go-to spot?"
Amanda froze for just a second, her fork hovering in the air. "She means the team, Ma," she said quickly. "Like, everyone at the office."
Ericka's lips curved just slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. "Right," she agreed easily. "Team dinners. Group bonding."
Angela looked between the two of them, smiling but clearly unconvinced. "Mmhmm," she said, taking another slow sip of her wine.
For a few minutes, the conversation turned casual again — stories about work, light teasing about Amanda's long nights at the office, and Angela proudly talking about her garden back home.
The rhythm of the meal felt natural, but under the surface, Amanda could feel the tension tugging like an undertow.
Her mom wasn't interrogating yet — but she was watching.
"Ericka," Angela said after a while, setting her fork down. "Can I just say, I'm really proud of what you've done with the company. I looked it up before coming over."
Ericka smiled, modest but touched. "Thank you, that means a lot. It's been a long road, but I've been lucky to work with amazing people — your daughter being one of them."
Angela turned toward Amanda, beaming. "She's always been like that, you know. When she believes in something — or someone — she gives it her all."
Amanda smiled softly, her eyes meeting Ericka's across the table. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Guess I never really outgrew that."
Ericka's gaze lingered a second too long, her expression soft, unreadable — and Amanda's mom caught it.
She didn't say anything, but her brow arched just slightly as she reached for her glass.
"So, how long have you two been working together again?" Angela asked casually, though her tone had that unmistakable motherly edge — the one Amanda had learned to fear since she was a kid.
"Almost two years," Amanda said, pushing her pasta around her plate.
Angela nodded slowly, like she was turning the number over in her mind. "Two years... a lot can happen in two years."
"Like a few sleepless nights and a million emails," Amanda said quickly, trying to lighten the mood.
Ericka chuckled softly. "And a few incredible campaigns," she added, looking at Amanda with open pride. "Honestly, your daughter is brilliant, Mrs. Parker. I wouldn't have survived the last year without her."
Angela's eyes softened — but they also narrowed, just slightly. "That's high praise coming from a CEO."
Ericka shrugged gracefully, leaning back in her chair. "Truth doesn't need embellishment."
Amanda's face flushed, and she reached for her water, trying not to make eye contact with either of them. "You're exaggerating," she muttered.
Ericka smiled. "Not even a little."
Angela smiled faintly, but her gaze darted between them again — from the warmth in Ericka's tone to the way Amanda's body instinctively leaned closer, drawn toward her even without realizing it.
"Sounds like you two make a good team," Angela said finally.
"The best," Ericka said before Amanda could answer. "She challenges me. Keeps me grounded."
Amanda gave a small, bashful smile. "And she inspires me," she said quietly.
There was a long moment — warm, soft, unguarded — that passed between them, and when they looked away, Angela was just sitting there, one eyebrow raised and a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"So," Angela said, cutting into her pasta again, "is there something you'd like to tell me, or should I just keep guessing?"
Amanda blinked. "What? No, Ma—"
Angela chuckled, shaking her head. "Relax, baby. I'm just teasing. But I'll say this..." She reached for her wine again, taking a slow sip. "Whatever this partnership is — professional, personal, or somewhere in between — it suits you. You're happy. I can see it."
Amanda's breath caught for a moment, her chest tightening with emotion. "Thanks, Ma."
Ericka smiled softly, her eyes tender as she said, "She really does make me happy too."
Angela met her gaze — and in that look, there was understanding. A flicker of realization. Then, with a small smirk, she raised her glass toward the two of them.
"Well," she said lightly, "here's to happiness, whatever shape it takes."
Dinner had stretched into the kind of evening that felt like it could last forever.
The candles had burned halfway down, their wax pooling slowly onto the glass holders. The music hummed softly in the background — something jazzy and mellow that Amanda had put on to fill the quiet.
Angela Parker sat back in her chair, her second glass of wine in hand, eyes flicking between her daughter and Ericka as they finished the last of their plates.
To anyone else, it might've looked like a simple family dinner.
But to Angela, every little detail was whispering something deeper.
The way Amanda's hand brushed Ericka's wrist when she reached for the salt.
The quiet laughter that passed between them every few minutes.
The way Ericka looked at her daughter — calm, protective, utterly sure.
Angela's eyes softened, but the curiosity behind them never faded.
"So," she said, swirling her wine gently, "you two have been working together for almost two years?"
Amanda nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah. Feels longer though. We've been through a lot with the company, especially lately."
Ericka glanced over with a faint smile, her tone light but proud. "She's being modest. Amanda's the reason most of the new campaigns even got off the ground."
Amanda laughed under her breath, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "She says that, but she's the one signing the checks."
Angela chuckled. "And cooking the dinners, apparently."
"That too," Ericka said smoothly, sending Amanda a teasing look that didn't go unnoticed.
Angela's eyes darted between them, her lips curving slightly. "You two make it sound like you spend a lot of time together outside of work."
Amanda's fork froze midair. She forced a smile. "Well, you know, when you're constantly brainstorming—"
"—And traveling," Ericka added seamlessly. "Sometimes it's just easier to handle things side by side."
Angela took another sip of her wine, pretending to consider that. "Mmhmm. I suppose it makes sense."
For a few moments, only the sound of cutlery filled the air. Amanda could practically feel her mother's thoughts spinning.
When Angela looked at her again, there was warmth there — but also the sharp awareness that had always made her impossible to lie to.
"You know, sweetheart," Angela said softly, "you look... different."
Amanda blinked. "Different?"
Her mom nodded, setting her glass down gently. "Lighter. Happier. The last few times we talked, you were so stressed about work, I worried you were burning out. But now—" she gestured toward her with a smile "—you've got this glow about you. And it's not just work. Something's changed."
Amanda's throat tightened. "Yeah," she said softly, glancing at Ericka. "Something has."
Ericka met her gaze, eyes calm and encouraging — a silent if you're ready, I'm right here.
Angela leaned back, smiling faintly. "Whatever it is, I hope it keeps you smiling like that."
Amanda hesitated for a long moment, tracing the edge of her napkin with her thumb. Her heart was racing, but the air felt thick with something honest — a moment that demanded truth.
She looked at her mom, her voice gentle but steady. "There's actually something I wanted to tell you, Ma."
Angela raised an eyebrow, amused. "That sounds serious."
Amanda glanced at Ericka, who gave her a small nod — the same kind of quiet, grounding support she always gave her before big presentations or hard decisions.
Amanda took a deep breath. "I didn't plan to tell you tonight," she admitted, "but it just feels right."
Angela tilted her head slightly. "Alright," she said softly. "What is it?"
Amanda's heart hammered against her ribs. She looked down at her hands for a second, then back up, her voice trembling but sincere.
"Ericka and I... we're not just coworkers."
For a beat, the room went silent — only the faint hum of music filling the air.
Angela blinked, her brows lifting slightly. "Not just coworkers," she repeated, her tone unreadable.
Amanda nodded, her fingers twisting in her lap. "We've been seeing each other for a while now. It started after a really rough stretch at work. And it wasn't planned — it just... happened. But, Ma—" she reached across the table, her voice soft but firm "—I love her."
Angela's lips parted, surprise flickering across her face, but what replaced it wasn't shock — it was quiet processing. A thousand little things falling into place.
Her eyes drifted from Amanda to Ericka — who was sitting calmly, her hand now resting protectively over Amanda's on the table.
Ericka spoke softly. "Mrs. Parker, I know this might come as a surprise, but I care about your daughter deeply. More than I can probably put into words. She's not just part of my work — she's part of my life."
Angela studied her for a long, quiet moment, then leaned back in her chair. "You know," she said finally, "a mother always knows something's up before her child admits it."
Amanda blinked, startled. "You knew?"
Angela smiled gently. "Let's just say I had my suspicions. The way you talk about her, Amanda — your voice changes. And tonight, the way you two look at each other?" She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You can't fake that kind of love."
Amanda's eyes glistened as relief washed over her. "So... you're okay with it?"
Angela reached across the table, taking her daughter's hand. "Honey, if she treats you right — and I can see she does — then yes, I'm okay with it. I just want you to be happy."
Amanda let out a shaky laugh, squeezing her mom's hand. "I am, Ma. I really am."
Ericka's smile softened, her voice low and sincere. "Thank you, Angela. That means more than you know."
Angela's gaze softened even more. "Well, I can see why she fell for you," she said with a teasing smile. "You're elegant, kind, and apparently make a mean dinner."
Amanda groaned, laughing. "Ma!"
Ericka chuckled, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. "I'll take the compliment."
Angela lifted her glass again, eyes shining as she looked between them. "Then let's toast to new beginnings — and to love, in all the right places."