Page 25 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 3

Leon grinned and held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Shaw.”

“Naomi is fine, Mr. Taylor.” I smiled shyly and shook the man’s hand. He held it for a bit longer than normal as he tookme in from top to toe. “Stylish and gorgeous. Just like your momma.” He let my hand go and glanced at his wife fondly.

“You can call me Leon, or Dad. I hope you’re hungry because we’ve made a feast in your honor.”

My cheeks heated as I put my hand to my stomach. “Famished. Haven’t eaten all day once I heard Memphis prattling on and on about how good his family’s cooking is.” Which was only partly the truth. Mostly I couldn’t stomach anything because my nerves were making me nauseous. But it seemed I didn’t need to worry. Like Memphis, his family was all smiles and happy hugs.

After I was introduced to his father, I met each sister except Sydney, who wouldn’t be in town until tomorrow. She had a late modeling shoot and couldn’t get a flight out in time.

There was Odessa, whose dark hair was twisted into long braids that she’d pulled into a ponytail. She wore pale pink scrubs, which suggested she’d come straight over from work. I was informed that she was twenty years old, third in the lineup of children, and was a CNA at a local hospital in the area, also taking night classes to earn her RN. She was wearily welcoming. Shook my hand and gave me platitudes about my outfit, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. I’d have to win her over.

Paris was the eighteen-year-old who’d just graduated high school. She wore wire-rimmed glasses that looked super cute with her chin length, short curly hair. Leon proudly introduced her as being his Harvard girl, explaining in detail that she was the first person in their family bloodline to be accepted into an Ivy League school, and he was damn proud of it. As he should be.

“I went to Columbia. It can be a lot of pressure attending a prestigious school such as Harvard. I’m happy to answer any questions you might have about your undergrad, but I’m sure you’ve done your research. Memphis talks all the time about how proud he is of you,” I offered.

Leon’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “You graduated from Columbia?”

Memphis put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “Told you I scored me a gorgeous, brainiac with champagne taste,” he chuckled.

“Champagne taste!” I swatted at his chest playfully.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” He laughed.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe.”

That had the group chuckling.

Next up, I met Holland who was sixteen and rather surly. She had the best resting bitch face I’d ever seen. Honestly, I was impressed. She didn’t offer her hand in greeting, just a small wave and a mumbled, “’Lo,” for hello. She also had her hair in braids but they were much thicker and the front half was pulled back to highlight her pretty face.

“Holls, you’re looking stunning as usual. How’s the medical terminology and anatomy and physiology courses at school?” Memphis asked.

Her eyes lit up at her brother’s obvious interest in her life. He paid attention to the people he cared about and knew the things that meant something to them. Another reason I was falling for the man.

“Mr. Wesley is a dick,” she snarled.

“Watch that mouth, young lady,” Robin chastised instantly.

“Holland wants to be a surgeon,” Memphis explained under his breath.

“It’s true,” she sneered. “He gave me an A minus on my last project because I swapped one letter in my description of the pulmonary veins. I typedvinesinstead ofveins. It was a total accident, and he marked me by a whole half a point!”

“That was a dick move,” I muttered, then clamped my mouth shut when Robin tsked and gave me that ‘don’t-you-encourage-her’ look. “Sorry, ma’am.”

Somehow me agreeing with Holland struck a chord and she suddenly moved to her brother, got up onto her toes, kissed his cheek and said, “I like her.”

“Me too,” he agreed.

The last but certainly not least was a petite little thing named Cheyenne. She was fourteen, and instead of a handshake or a testy assessment, she hugged me. “It’s nice to meet you, Naomi. You’re the first girlfriend my brother has ever been brave enough to bring home. That means he likes you a whole lot.”

Memphis laughed out loud. “Chey!”—which came out sounding likeShy—“don’t be sharing all my secrets, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl. I’m fourteen,” she clapped back.

He reached for his sister, tucked her under his arm, and kissed the top of her head. “Any boys I need to hunt down?”

Holland snorted. “Like she’d ever get close to a boy. She’s as shy as her nickname! Besides, she’s way more into girls.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m finding boys are immature even if some can be cute. Girls are prettier and you all know I like both,” she said with grit.

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