Chapter Thirty-Three
Marcus
“ D o I look like wife material?”
I sit on the couch, Gigi standing before me. Fuck me, I knew the dress would look good on her, but her bright eyes and her sweet smile finish it off like I never would have imagined.
I lean back, taking her in. “Spin for me.”
She does as I ask, her curls moving around her shoulders. She has her hair pinned back on top, with her black ribbon in a bow. My body lights up with her small demonstration of obedience while my eyes move from the ribbon in her hair down to the heels on her feet. I’m hit with pride when she faces me again, wearing a wide smile and her eyes twinkling in the soft light of the living room.
“Very much the vision of wife material, princess.”
She smooths down the bottom of the dress. “Thank you again. I feel so pretty right now.”
“You should. You look wonderful.” For the first time I can remember, her cheeks go red. I stand and move toward her, taking her hand. “And I’m the one who should be saying thank you, Gigi.”
She gazes up at me. “You and I, we got this.”
My fingers can’t resist picking up one of her curls, twisting it in my fingers. “Yeah, we do.”
Gigi and I walk into Toscano ten minutes before our reservation time. After we’re seated at our table, I let out a long, tense puff of air.
“It’s all going to be okay, prince. Calm down.”
“I’m ready to get this over with.”
She nods toward the lobby. “They’re here.”
I look up and see my parents walking toward our table. I rise from my chair, and Gigi does the same.
“Son,” my father offers.
“Hey, Dad.” I turn toward my mom, who, unlike my father, is wearing a warm smile. “Mom.”
She hugs me. “Marcus, it’s so nice that you invited us out this evening.”
I see Gigi shifting on her feet beside me. “Mom, Dad, this is Gigi.”
Gigi extends her hand to my father. “Mr. and Mrs. Holt, so nice to see you again.”
My father’s eyes scan her and I think I see a hint of acceptance cross his face. “Gigi, nice to have you join us this evening.”
We all sit, and Gigi picks up her napkin from the table, placing it in her lap. She grins at my parents. The waiter interrupts our niceties and my father orders a bottle of red for the table.
“Marcus, did you get the numbers for Providence over to Silvia yesterday?”
“William, let’s visit, not talk about work,” my mother scolds.
“It’s okay, Mom.” I look at my father. “They were sent.”
“Good.” His focus turns to Gigi. “Gigi, tell me again what you do for work.”
“I own a skin spa. We’ve been open for six years now.”
He nods. “Being a business owner can be stressful, time consuming.”
“I have a good team. I mainly manage operations and only see a few select clients. I have a good work/life balance.”
The waiter returns, and my father tests the wine, giving them a nod of approval. “Enough balance for a husband and family?”
“Dad, we…”
Gigi places her hand on my arm. “It’s fine.” She looks at my father. “Plenty of time. I’ve trained my team to take over if there ever comes a time when I want to step back from being so hands on.”
My mom smiles. “So, you and my son are close?”
I take over the dialogue at that point. “We’ve been friends for a couple years now, Mom. But, yes, over the past month or so, we’ve gotten closer.”
Gigi grins at me, ignoring my parent’s watchful eyes. “I was seeing someone for a while, but when that ended, Marcus finally made his move.” Gigi holds my gaze, giving me a wink.
“Good for you, son.”
I bring my hand to her cheek, rubbing my thumb by her ear. “I figured I had waited long enough, and once she was unattached, I could finally tell her I wanted more than friendship.” Her eyes soften and I give her a warm smile. Fuck, this is too easy.
My mother places her hand on my dad’s arm. “Oh, William, this is so sweet. Marcus, we’ve never seen you like this. I don’t think we’ve ever met any of your girlfriends.”
Gigi’s eyes go wide, then she looks at my mom. “Never?”
My mom thinks for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Marcus has always been a bit of a loner. But it’s good to see him changing his ways.”
“I’m sitting right here, Dad.”
“I’m aware.”
We order food and things stay comfortable, my mom keeping the conversation going. My father watches me intently. Like he’s analyzing every moment. We make it halfway through our entrees before my father, surely fueled by our second bottle of wine, turns his focus to Gigi.
“Gigi, where do you see yourself in five years?”
Her shoulders drop as she sets her fork down. “I don’t like to focus that far in the future. Sure, I think I’ll still have the spa—” She looks into my eyes. “Maybe Marcus and I will still be together. But other than that, I like to let life unfold naturally.”
“Has Marcus told you about his responsibilities with our company?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know the position he will take, the demands of that life are heavy. If you can’t plan five years into the future, do you think you can be a supportive wife to a man with the weight of a company on his shoulders?”
I glance at my mom, and she looks down at her food. “Dad, Gigi knows what my future holds. I believe she would be more than capable of handling a business and a relationship if that’s how things progress between us.”
Gigi laces her fingers through mine under the table. “I understand your concern, Bill—”
“Mr. Holt,” my father scolds. Shit, he hates to be called Bill.
She scoffs at the correction. “Mr. Holt. I would hope that, even if things don’t work out between Marcus and me, that he would find someone who could be his equal. Someone who’s driven like him.”
“Do you want children in the future?” His questions continue.
“Maybe. It depends on my partner and what they want.”
He takes a drink of wine, slowly placing the glass back on the table. “Marcus, you should probably have that discussion with Gigi sooner rather than later, given her age.”
“My age isn’t a concern here, Mr. Holt.” She accentuates the ‘t’. Shit, I need to wrangle this in.
“Marcus could think otherwise in a couple years.”
“Enough,” I bark, causing my mom to look up from her food, eyes darting around the table. “These questions are a bit out of line. We just started dating.”
“Just making sure the important topics are covered.”
I place my silverware on my plate, signaling that I’m finished eating. “Gigi, would you like dessert?”
She mirrors my actions, placing her napkin on the table by her plate. “We have ice cream at home, don’t we?”
I place my arm around her shoulders, running my fingers up and down the skin of her arm. She curls into my side, the contact calming me. “We do.”
“Then I’m good.” She looks at my father. “What about you, Bil—Sorry. Mr. Holt.”
His eyes show his agitation. “I think I’m fine.”
I wave down our waiter, requesting the bill.