It shouldn’t matter, but it did. He’d been acting so weird, almost tiptoeing around Momma and barely able to meet Rebel’s gaze.
“I have no fucking words, Reb,” he told her, the admiration on his face easing her mind.
Whatever had him so distracted wasn’t about her.
“You know what, Mom?” Axel said. “If another beautiful girl had a white dress on, you’d look like the flag.”
Rebel smiled at her little brother. She didn’t think he meant it as it sounded.
Momma hugged Axel. “Behave,” she said, not commenting on the flag thing. “Do not do anything to Kaia.”
Rocking on his heels, Axel cut his eyes at Kaia. “He looks stupid with that hairstyle.”
“Thatyougave to him.”
Axel sidled his gaze to Rebel and huffed.
“I’m going to shave it,” Kaia said.
“No!” Rebel cried. “You have beautiful hair.”
“That don’t have none in the middle,” Axel said.
“Okay,enough,” Momma said sharply. “We’ll be late for our reservations. If you need me, call me.” She smiled at Rebel. “Come on, love.”
As restaurants went, this one was the top of the line with waiters in clothes that resembled a tux, a Maître d’, handsome men and gorgeous women. Rebel couldn’t smell the food for the scent of money in the air.
She smiled. No one knew her there. She wasn’t Daddy’s daughter or CJ’s little sister. She wasn’t the traumatized girl who was trying her best to move past last week.
“I have a reservation for two.” Momma’s wedding set and the blue diamond ring on her other hand added flair to her hodge podge of diamond pieces that included her Rolex, earrings, and necklace. “Megan Caldwell.”
“Yes,” the man said, glancing from Momma to Rebel, and nodding in approval. “Mrs. Caldwell, it is a pleasure to welcome you.” He looked at Rebel. “May I take your coat?”
“Of course,” Momma said before Rebel responded.
When she handed over the full-length leather coat, Rebel almost asked if she’d get it back.
“May I kindly confirm your reservation and see a form of ID?”
Without hesitation, Momma produced her driver’s license…and Rebel’s ID…?
She snapped her brows together.
“Your table is ready. May I escort you there?”
Momma nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
The man reminded Rebel of a butler, taking the lead, walking slightly ahead, indicating with a small movement of his open hand thepathway in an aisle between tables against a wall and one on the edge of the main dining room.
Rebel swiveled her head in every direction, unable to believe some of the familiar faces she saw. Not that she knew them, but one was a big movie star, another was a baller.
Clearing her throat, Momma grabbed Rebel’s hand and guided her forward. “Head up, eyes engaged, smile on your face, and a confident stride,” she said in low tones.
Rebel forced herself to do as her mother instructed, amazed at the attention, even from famous people, turning their way. Momma powered forward, ignoring everyone, while Rebel was awed by it all.
“Everyone is so beautiful, Momma. Sparkling—”
Momma squeezed her hand. “It isn’t about a display of wealth. It’s about grace and refinement. You are not gazing into the window, wishing you could be a part of this. You’re here. Enjoy the moment.”
