I stood fully, stepping back from Chanel, who now sat wide-eyed, looking between my mother and me.
“Chanel?” My mother looked, confused.
“Hi, Ms. Grant,” Chanel greeted, looking embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, baby,” my mother said again.
“It’s okay, Mama. Did you need something?”
“Oh, no. I left my iPad in the house earlier when I let Pumpkin out. I just came back in to grab it, and I saw the kitchen light on.”
I nodded. Pumpkin was my mother’s Pomeranian, whom I sometimes thought she loved more than me.
“Chanel, I apologize for interrupting. It’s been a long time. I heard you had moved back. Good to see you.”
Chanel smiled. “It’s good to see you too, Ms. Grant. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m well. I’ll let you two get back to, you know.” My mother waved her hand, turning to leave.
Chanel turned back to me with laughter in her eyes. Seconds later, she burst out laughing. That response confused me. She’d gone from embarrassed to laughing in a matter of seconds.
“What’s so funny?”
“You live with your mom. Aww,” she teased before laughing again.
I frowned at her. “Don’t play me. I don’t live with my mother. She lives withme,” I emphasized by patting my chest.
She gave me a dubious look, laughter still dancing around in those brown orbs.
“Nah, for real. She lives in the guest house out back. And it’s temporary. I’m having her house remodeled, so she’s staying with me until it’s done,” I explained.
She sobered a little bit, a smile still playing at her lips. “It’s cute though,” she smirked.
“It’s not cute. She refused to move out of the house she raised me in, even when I offered to buy her something bigger. I finally convinced her to let me remodel it for her and update her security.” My mother loved her little two-bedroom home. It wasn’t too small or falling apart. My mother was a CPA and could afford more on her own, but she’d grown up frugally and raised me as a single mother, so pinching pennies was her way of life.
Chanel straightened. “That’s dope, taking care of your mother.”
“Yeah, well. She took care of me for so long. She rarely splurged on herself but spent thousands of dollars sending me to private schools so I’d have the best opportunities. It’s the least I can do,” I said with all the pride I had for my mother in my voice.
“Nice,” Chanel nodded.
“Here. Finish eating,” I told her, pushing the bowl in front of her.
“I was enjoying my meal before your lips rudely interrupted it.”
“Is that right? I don’t recall you pushing me or my lips away,” I said at the same time my eyes dipped down to look at her lips. I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, and I swear I saw her tremble.
“Whatever,” she mumbled, taking another forkful.
I watched as she ate; mainly I watched her lips. Every time her tongue snuck out, licking up the sauce, my hands clenched reflexively. I was doing my best not to maul this woman in my damn kitchen, but I swear she wasn’t making it easy. Especially not in that dress that showed off her delectable brown thighs.
“That was delicious,” she finally broke the silence. “Thank you.”
“Glad you enjoyed it. Let’s go,” I directed after placing the dishes in the sink. I bent to grab two seltzer waters from my drink refrigerator that was housed under my counter.
“Thanks,” Chanel said, taking one of the bottles.
I grabbed her free hand with my own and escorted her down the second hall and down the stairs to my media room. On the far wall sat a huge screen with speakers on both sides and underneath, which made for great surround sound. In the center was a large glass coffee table that held the remotes for the entertainment center. On one side were three low-sitting yellow chairs, on the other side was large, brown suede ottoman, and opposite the screen sat the dark purple couch that could easily fit four people.
