Page 55 of Beauty Of Her

“Yes, you.” Brett bore his eyes into mine, realizing I had no choice, and he turned to Bridgette. “Will you come too?”

Bridge glared at Brett, and I didn’t understand why. “Oh, I know why you want me there.”

“Am I missing something?” I asked them both, fighting a lump in my throat.

“Brett wants to protect you from Mommy Dearest as much as possible,” Bridge said, wincing.

“What Bridgette is trying to say is that my parents are going to be at this event, and I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to officially meet them.”

“But I’ve already met your mother. So, it’ll really be me just meeting your father.” My eyes darted between Brett and Bridgette because while my words tried to convince me that meeting the parents was a routine course of events in any progressing relationship, their sour expressions suggested otherwise.

“You’ve seen my aunt, but you actually haven’t met her,” Bridgette added.

“Bridge,” Brett warned through gritted teeth. “What she’s trying to say is my mom acts a little different outside of Stelvio’s.”

“She’s been known to be a little bitchy,” Bridgette chimed in, leaning across the table.

“Bridgette!” Brett spat.

“It’s okay, Brett. I get it. This wouldn’t be the first time I met someone’s mother.”

“How many mothers have you met?” Brett raised an eyebrow.

“Very funny.” I glared.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” Brett said, pressing his forehead against mine before kissing my nose.

“Oh, stop. You guys are just too cute,” said Bridge, batting her eyelashes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there, and everything will be fine.”

"And if it isn't?" I asked, suddenly aware of the thrumming in my chest. The vulnerability of meeting Brett's family registered within me.

Brett gave my hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my knuckles. "If it isn't," he said, "we leave right away, and then we can go somewhere—just you and me."

"I'll have a backup plan ready," Bridgette said, her eyes sparkling with an adventurous glint that reassured me.

“Seriously, it’s going to be great. I promise,” Brett said one final time, bringing the back of my hand to his lips.

Of course, it would be great. If Brett said that was how it would be, I had to believe him because he would never lie. And why start now?

My phone chime cut through the buzzing air, and my lungs deflated when I peered at the screen.

“Is everything okay, babe?” Brett asked, out of the loop.

“I’m not sure,” I answered, my eyes glued to my phone because if I knew better, it was never a good sign when my divorce attorney called.

“How could this be happening?” I nearly shrieked, sitting across from the attorney in his mahogany-rich office.

“It sounds a lot worse than it is, but I had to call you,” said my attorney, keeping cool in his immaculate blue navy suit, white shirt, and red tie: the ultimate power attire. He leaned back in his brown leather chair with one leg perched on his knee like he didn’t have a care in the world and probably didn’t. Michael Stafford’s retainer fees were gargantuan.

“How can this not be serious, Michael? Peter is threatening to take me to family court to alter our custody arrangement.” I flailed my arms. I was like a crazy chicken with its head cut off sitting across from the most nonchalant man. Michael was good, and I had put all my faith into him, mainly because Amelia used him for her divorce, and he was an old friend of hers. He just cost me all my savings, and I finally understood when people said getting a divorce was some of the best money ever spent.

“This new boyfriend of yours must have really rattled him. Have they had any unpleasant exchanges?” Michael leaned forward and planted both caramel leather shoes on the floor.

“The only time was when we were in Florida. Peter wasn’t the nicest on the phone, and Brett intervened. But it wasn’t hostile. It was just an exchange of petty words.” I threw my hands in the air. “This is ridiculous.”

Michael sighed, leaning back in his chair once more. "Well, he’s a loser. I’m talking about Peter.” Michael spun his gold pinky ring around his strong finger. “I wouldn’t worry. Peter has no leg to stand on. He’s acting like a little shit right now, getting under your skin. Don’t let him win, okay?" He paused for a moment, studying me with his piercing gaze. "Is this serious with your boyfriend?"

His question caught me off guard, but it was easy to answer. “Yes, of course. I love him.”

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