Page 80 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

I drop my palm on his and his eyes come to mine. Behind us, an espresso maker grinds beans, and soft steam drifts dreamily around, the scent of muffins hanging in the air. I smile at him, the moment surreal. Not only are we out together but this time, we’re not hiding it. And this time, there isn’t an invisible problem tethered to us, waiting to surface at the most inopportune time. This time, we’re happy. Because of her.

So we owe it to her to help out with Quincey. To make her happy. Because she loves her father, and family is important, and despite rage and anger and misunderstanding, your family bond should never change.

Quincey appears in the doorframe, his dark eyes narrowed as he surveys the shop. When his eyes come to us, we rise, and he rolls his eyes. Must be a Parker trait. I outstretch my hand to him as he approaches, and he shakes it as his other hand works the button of his suit jacket, releasing it. His jacket opens, revealing a white pressed dress shirt, the corner of it slightly untucked.

“Hello, Augustus Moore,” I remind him, focusing on his face. He looks angry… or maybe.. I don’t know. Upon further inspection, I wonder if those lines etched into his forehead and the crows feet at his eyes are stress instead of anger.

“Quincey Parker, as you’re aware.” He takes Lance’s hand after releasing mine.

“Lance Davis.”

We sit at the small table, three grown men too big for a tiny coffee house. Our knees bump at first until we all push back a bit, giving the table a wide berth.

“We’re just here to meet you, and tell you that we love and respect Brielle, as a partner and business professional. She’s extremely talented, she’s got an eye for it, and just because it's an adult film company doesn’t make her any less talented.” I hadn’t planned to run out front with all of that, but as his knee bounces, the feeling that he may bolt overwhelms me.

“Love her?” he says.

“We do.” Lance confirms.

He moves a finger between the two of us, but his face isn’t scrunched in disgust like I’d prepared for. “The two of you with her, huh?” He shakes his head, and right when I think a demeaning, chastising comment is coming, he looks up, eyes serious. “Who the hell am I to judge?” His laugh is dark, and meant more, I think, to scold himself.

“She’s moved in with us,” I go on, because that knee is still bouncing. “So you can get rid of that apartment.”

His brow arches as his eyes move from me to Lance, then back to me again. “And when this little thing you’re doing gets old? Where is she gonna go then? Where will she work, huh? Because I know once you dump her she won’t be working with you anymore. I’m not a moron.”

I volley my head, wanting to argue the point but knowing that would lead us down the exact road we don’t want to travel. “There will be no break up.” I hold his gaze, imparting the seriousness of my claim. Next to me, Lance nods. “We’re in it forever, regardless of where you sit with it. But my advice, for what it’s worth, is not to let a temporary scuffle damage a landmark moment.”

“Landmark moment?” Quincey snorts.

I smile at him, because I don’t think he’s as hateful as I once assessed. I think he’s scared to lose his girl, and moreover, based on hiswho the hell am I to judgecomment, I think he’s going through his own thing. And he’s overwhelmed.

I keep my control for both Brielle and Quincey now. “She’s graduating from the program, she has a healthy career ahead, and she’s found her forever relationship.” I look at Lance and back to Quincey. “These are landmark things. And you’re tainting them with your disapproval and anger.”

Lance sips his coffee. “You can never go back and rewrite it, that much I know you’re aware of. So don’t taint these memories, for either of your sakes.”

Quincey fucks with his cufflinks while staring through the glass case of pastries. A moment later, his gaze comes to me. “I need time to accept that my baby is directing pornos, okay?”

I nod, because in truth, I do understand that. I’m reasonable. “Fine. Takerespectfultime,” I encourage, adding a little emphasis on the respectful because while he is her father, she’s mine now. And my girl doesn’t get disrespected that way. “But don’t throw shade on our relationship,” I continue, the sentence an advice as much as a warning.

He shakes his head, blowing out a breath that seems to last forever. Like he’s been holding onto it for too long. Finally he adds, “You know, a couple of months ago I would have never been able to get on board with this. I would’ve really fucking hated it.”

Lance rolls his neck, popping it, getting Quincey’s attention. “What’s changed?”

He blinks, Adam’s apple sinking beneath the collar of his dress shirt as he utters, “I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t.”

I don’t want to know more about that, because I don’t want to keep it a secret from our girl. And neither does Lance, because he sighs. “Look, that's between the two of you, and will trickle our way after. But for now, the last thing we want to say is… don’t skip the mentorship ceremony tomorrow. You said you wouldn’t be a part of it but… if you want to mend fences, show up for her.”

His face torques with deep concern. “Once she knows who–” he stops with a palm raised by Lance. “She may not want me there.”

“She will. Even if she’s mad. Even if, at that moment, she hates your goddamn guts. Show up for her, Quincey, because sometimes just being there is what matters in the long run.”

He nods and stares blankly at the table top before shoving away from the table and getting to his feet.

“And if you want to get to know us, we’d be glad to host you and your girlfriend,” I say with a smile.

The three of us exchange handshakes one more time, and he leaves.

I turn to Lance who is sipping his coffee. “I think that went as well as it could have.”

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