Chapter 6 | Brooklyn #2
Mama nudged my shoulder. “You mean ‘when’, that man so sprung over you. He’s just as busy as you, yet you haven’t spent a night home since he got back from that weekend with his children.
I was sold when you told me he’d taken his children skiing.
Ain’t nothing sexier than a man who takes care of his kids. ”
I glanced over at the other room, and Carter’s eyes were glued to the screen. “Mama, you were sold when I told you he was an ex-NFL player.”
She chuckled. “A mother has dreams for her daughter, too.” Mama looked over my shoulder toward Carter and then back at me. “Love this man. Don’t take out what happened with Bishop on him.”
“I’m not.”
Her lips formed a tight line. “I know you. You’re so used to being stuck up in this house when you’re not working, the minute he does something you don’t like, you’ll justify why you should be alone.”
“You never married again.” I pointed out.
“Not because I didn’t have the opportunity. I made a vow to myself that while you were a child, I wouldn’t bring a man into the house, and until you were married, I wouldn’t have a husband.”
“Mama, what if I never get married? If you meet the right man, I want you to go for it.”
She shook her head firmly. “It’s been you and me since you were four. If I were married, no husband would have allowed me to uproot and move to California to be with you.”
“I didn’t ask for you to come here.” I reminded her pointedly as I stuffed Hershey’s Kisses in a little cotton elf’s shoe.
“Yet, you needed me. You were never a social butterfly like me, but you weren’t a hermit either.
” She held one of my twists in her hand.
“Even wearing your hair like this is your way of neglecting your appearance. You barely make time to get it redone. If I didn’t move in with you, no telling how you would be now.
” She picked up a basket. “You wouldn’t even be doing these baskets to give out to the community center if I weren’t here.
” My mother used to run a daycare out of our home back in Birmingham, and now volunteers to babysit children, while their parents participate in various activities at a center in Compton.
“The residency takes up more time than I realized.”
“No, you take on extra work to forget.”
Carter jumped up and shouted at the game. “What the fuck are you doing?” He then quickly apologized to my mother. “Sorry, Mama Gwen, I get caught up.”
“I can tell.” She teased with genuine warmth.
Mama liked Carter the moment she met him when he picked me up for a date at a rooftop theatre and had asked my mother if it was okay for me to spend the night with him.
She’d been tickled pink that he was upfront about how the night would end and that he really wanted her permission since she did live with me.
“Carter, don’t you have some Christmas party or event that my daughter can get all pretty for? ”
“Mama,” I warned. “Between his businesses and his children, he doesn’t have time.”
“She’s already pretty,” Carter smirked at me.
“Oh, then you’ve never seen her at her best.” She marched to him, swiped through her cell, and planted her screen in front of his surprised face.
I bit back my laughter because I’d already learned not to start up a conversation or interfere in any way when he’s watching sports.
I moved closer to the living area, watching his expression, waiting to see how he would handle my mother, who now blocked the TV to show him a picture of me.
Carter’s brows were furrowed initially, and then his face relaxed into an appreciative smile. “Gorgeous.”
Mama glanced at me. “It’s your pic from your grandparents’ sixtieth wedding anniversary.” She tapped the screen. “This is how my daughter used to dress and look before that son of a bitch – I didn’t like him or his mother, so I can call him that – killed her spirit.”
“He didn’t kill my spirit,” I protested, though he did take my self-confidence regarding men.
Carter seeped in because he’d been forward and creative in getting my attention.
Other men I met, whether at the hospital or in the community, took my polite rebuff as a sign that I wasn’t interested and, understandably, kept it pushing.
I was like a turtle who retreated whenever a man approached and peeked my head back out when I was in my comfort zone: work and home.
“He did something,” Carter murmured. “That’s crazy. All you’re wearing is a simple sundress, and you’re stunning.”
I propped my hands on my waist. “What does that mean?”
Carter shrugged. “I haven’t met the woman in this picture, yet.”
“It’s just hair and make-up. Thought you liked natural?” Was I really that different?
“I do. Still.” He admired the screen a little too long for my liking. “Yeah, we have to dress up.”
“For what?” I couldn’t hide the irritation in my voice. “This is me, now. That picture was almost five years ago. Of course, I’ve changed. I’m sure you don’t look exactly the same five years ago?”
Carter’s full lips curved into a broad smile, and he kissed my mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Mama Gwen. I do have a Christmas gala with ESPN on the day before Christmas Eve. I was going to skip it because I didn’t feel like getting dressed up.”
I pointed at him. “See, you don’t even want to get dressed up. Don’t listen to my mother, I’m good.”
“We’ll go shopping and get you a badass dress.” He took my hand and twirled me around. “We’ll mingle and be merry.”
“Not too fast, I get dizzy.” Giggling, I placed my free hand on his chest to ground me.
Carter dipped me in his arms. “And dance the night away.”
I looked up at him and stubbornly replied, “I have to work.”
“No, you don’t.” He lifted me back up. “You get a slight wrinkle over your nose when you lie.”
“I don’t lie.”
He kissed the space over my nose. “When I tell you I’m ready to go to bed, you lie and say you are too.”
With a twist of my neck, my eyes traveled his fine as fuck body. “I have my reasons why I want to get in bed when you do.”
Carter’s eyes widened before he dropped his head.
“You made that man blush,” Mama admonished before high-fiving me. “You finally learning from the master.”
He cleared his throat and lifted his wrist to stare at his watch. “Not blushing. Just needed to check the time.”
I slung my arm around his neck. “It’s cool. I know what I made you do.”
Carter tilted his head and deepened his voice, “And I know what I’ll make you do later.”
Mama fanned herself. “Ooh, child. Do you two need some privacy?”
“No.” I flicked my tongue at Carter as he nodded in contrast. “I still need to finish these baskets, and he’s too focused on the game to help me like he promised.”
“You were the one who ran me away because I was wasting materials.” He moved to the table and picked up the green tissue paper. “Fine, I’ll ruin another basket since you insist I help you. And we’re going to the gala.”
“She’ll need a make-up artist and a hair stylist along with that dress,” Mama added.
My stomach churned at the fuss they seemed determined to create. I didn’t want all that attention on me. I scowled. “Don’t know why we can’t just dress up and have a fancy dinner at your place or an upscale restaurant.”
“Because you need to be seen again.” Carter hugged me to his side and brushed his lips on my temple. “And it’s time you remembered that Brooklyn.”
Mama clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.
“What are you praying for now?” I asked in feigned exasperation.
My mother’s eyes remained closed. “That you don’t mess this up by choosing the ugliest dress and not allowing them to comb your hair.”
Carter raised a brow. “You that stubborn?”
“I mean...what’s ugly is relative.” I placed a basket in his hand. “Fix your face and at least put tissue paper at the bottom of each. You can do that, can’t you?”
Although he did what I asked, his curious gaze lingered on me.
Mama and I prepped for the gala like it was my wedding day.
After all, it was my debut as the new woman on ex-NFL superstar, veterinarian, and philanthropist, Carter St. Patrick’s arm.
My nerves kept me from eating, or I was on the toilet.
If I ever went on a diet again, it would be the " get ready for the ESPN Christmas Gala " meal plan.
“Don’t you look good.” My mother praised as she opened the door when he rang the doorbell at seven, while I stood in the center of the room behind her.
Destructively handsome to my pussy delicious would be a more fitting description of the man in his tailored black tux with velvet lapels. How his hungry and admiring gaze seared every inch of me, Carter was just as pleased by my appearance.
After a lengthy argument, I persuaded him to let me choose my dress and accessories on my own.
My mother’s prayer worried him because he’d picked up on my stubbornness when I felt pressured.
I told him he had to trust me and that I wouldn’t do anything to make either of us look bad.
I recognized that being with him wasn’t like being with the average man.
The fitted long, thin-strapped black, sparkly Versace dress that crisscrossed over my back dipped to right above my ass.
My hair had been straightened with a couple of added pieces, creating the illusion that I had longer, thicker hair, and then pulled into a loose bun.
I only wore diamond-encrusted hoops and a matching bracelet Carter gifted me as an early Christmas present.
I splurged on black, red-bottom heels. The makeup artist accentuated my cheekbones and light brown eyes.
The crimson color made my slightly pouty lips alluring.
I turned around slowly, itching to smile. “Do you like?”
Mama started walking backward. “I’ll give you some space.”
Carter couldn’t drag his eyes from me. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She quirked a brow and touched my arm. “You owe me.”