Page 33 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

She laughs.

“Kamryn’s in the middle. Just two years older than me, but we might as well be twins. She’s in finance. She’s ruthless about money. She’s probably over there googling your net worth.”

That earns me a tight chuckle, I meanrealtight.

“Her boyfriend is Rico. He didn’t come, but that’s my nigga.”

“Why not?”

I shrug like it’s not a big deal, even though it is. “He doesn’t really get along with my parents.”

She perks up at that. “I can’t imagine why. They seem amazing.”

I try to read her expression. It sounded sarcastic, but I don’t know her inflections yet, so I can’t swear to it.

Before I can ask her, movement near the gate catches my eye.

“Oh, shit. My boys are here.”

Her body locks up again, back ramrod straight, shoulders tense. It’s like she just heard a gun cock.

I put my arm around her and kiss her cheek. Poor thing is dreading another round of introductions. But my boys aren’t like my parents, so she’s worrying for nothing.

I stand to greet them.

Titus is first through the gate. Dayton’s right behind him, followed by Shara, all curves and bubbly smiles. She’s never far from his side.

When I introduce Raya, she smiles politely, but she’s still tense. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as they grab plates, waiting for her to snap out of it. But the tension lingers.

Once everyone is settled, I stand in the middle of the yard, tapping my finger against my bottle.

“Alright, listen up,” I say.

The conversation dies down, all eyes shifting to me.

“I wanted to wait until everybody was here before I made the big announcement.”

Titus grins and does a little fist pump, because he and Dayton have heard this already.

“I’m the lead engineer on a sustainable bridge project in Cedarville,” I say proudly.

The reaction is about what I was expecting; Kamryn and Vanessa smile and congratulate me. My boys nod knowingly. My parents? Subdued as always, but I tell myself they’re proud of me.

Indeed, Pop says the words. “Good job, Ace. Proud of you.”

“Yeah,” Mama agrees flatly, swirling the wine in her glass. “That’s a big deal. You must have had to work hard to get that.”

“I did.”

She nods, lips pursed. “Well, clearly it paid off.”

“Didn’t that project start last year?” Pop asks.

“Technically, yeah,” I say reluctantly. “The first firm fell through, so they brought us in.”

“So you weren’t the first choice,” Mama says, her voice light but cutting. “I mean, it’s still wonderful. I’m just asking.”

Before I can catch myself, my shoulders slump. Nothing I do is ever good enough for this woman.

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