Page 48 of Baby for My Billionaire Rival

Jake attempts a smile. “Ma’am, I assure you that I wore my special occasion boots today.”

Everyone laughs again, but I know that wasn’t a joke. It’s true, Jake has an affinity for plaid shirts and blue jeans. He’s foreverin a pair of boots and is always ready to roll his sleeves up and fix something. Tonight though, he’s wearing a navy polo and khakis. That slight attempt at fitting in at the beginning of the school year broke my heart, but I knew it would be the best shot at Gram forgetting about the “country hick” stereotype she has in her mind.

Unfortunately, it seems she saw through that.

“I have to say, young man, I can’t say that I see this as a match.”

So much for the laughter.

“Is that right, ma’am?” Jake says without any sort of affectation. Too polite for his own good.

“Our Caroline was a debutante, you know.”

Jake glances at me. “Of course she was.”

“Gram, that’s enough. It doesn’t matter if I was a debutante, that was ten years ago! Besides it’s –”

“Hush child, I’m making a point.”

I seal my mouth, wishing I could defend Jake, but knowing that if I say much more, it’d be like setting fire to gunpowder.

“You can see Caroline living on your farm with you?” Gram asks, but it sounds more like a statement.

Jake’s smile does not falter. I want to hold him. “She’s got the overalls and boots for it. The red lipstick too.”

“You think I’m being funny.”

He audibly swallows. “No, ma’am.”

I look at Chase with desperation in my eyes. I really wish he’s help me out right now.

“I won’t have my granddaughter objectified by –“

“Gram, he was making a joke,” Chase intercedes.

“Why is everyone talking over me?” Gram says angrily.

The table goes mum. I desperately try to make a plea to my father with my eyes for him to settle his mother down, butDad merely pushes his food around his plate. Why is everyone looking away from this?

“I apologize, ma’am, I would never objectify or m-mean to objectify…” Jake trails off, his eyes fixed on the empty plate in front of him.

“I’m afraid having her live in the country just won’t do. She has a standard of living she’s accustomed to,” Gram says.

So many thoughts boil in my brain. But I can’t manage to utter a single one.

“I can provide for her,” Jake says simply. “That won’t be a problem.”

“That’s not what I mean, Mr. Simmons.”

The rest of the table is silent.

“We are from different walks of life, your family and ours,” Gram says.

Her thoughts are antiquated, rooted in a time when rural areas were untouched. Nowadays, it’s different. With technology, people aren’t so different as they once were. That’s my take on it anyway. Other than getting off on the wrong foot with Jake, I’ve never seen him as anything but my equal. I suppose I’ve had to defend him on occasion to our classmates. Treat him as if he’s one of us and not a country bumpkin. A redneck.

But I don’t see him that way. I grab Jake’s hand under the table.

He does not grab back.

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