Page 68 of Tarek

It doesn’t matter how old I become, as annoying as she can be, no one melts me like my mom.

“Have you been exercising? You look a little chubby. You need to exercise, because—” Poking her finger at my arm.

“Mom. I am fine.” I almost slapped her hands away, but I remember that she is my mom.

“Of course you are. And you are beautiful too.” She nods as she rubs my arm.

My mother is the epitome of grace, in this ballroom she stands out. Her statuesque body draped in a floor-length gown that hugs her curves. The deep glittering emerald-green of the dress contrasts beautifully on her dark skin, which seems to glow under the ballroom’s chandelier.

“You look regal tonight mom. Archer is running for governor not president,” I tease as I take a sip of my champagne.

“Oh shush,” she taps the side of her French roll and smiles. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Where is Archer?” I ask as my eyes begin to rove the crowd.

“Out and about. You look well loved. Are you in a relationship again?” My mother taps her lips as her eyes move up my body.

“No relationship. Just fresh hair twists and a wax,” I reply. My minds races back to the top of Tarek’s dark head moving between my legs, and his tongue, dear lord his tongue.

“Who is he? Your cheeks just redden.” My mother’s eyes squint.

“There is no ‘he’. Where is Archer?” I needed my brother now so he can take her attention away from me.

“Hmm. He is in the crowd somewhere. Try to behave tonight, especially now that he is engaged.” The way my mother says the word engaged I can tell she is not happy with his decision.

“Engaged? Tell me he didn’t propose to Botox Barbie,” my mind screams recoiling at the thought of having that emotionless, Kardashian wanna be as my sister-in-law.

As if he heard my cries of distress, the crowd parts as my brother and his remora aka the shark sucker fiancée walks to us.

“Finally, you are here,” he says, his silver-grey eyes meet mine. I lean forward and give him a light hug.

“We have to talk,” I reply, before I can say more a thin pale hand drops in front of my face. A rock the size of Gibraltar shines in my eye.

“Wow Tamy, this ring is just like you,” I said as I look into her makeup covered face. “Gaudy and over the top, but somehow, you make it work.”

She bats her mascara laden eyelashes as she is trying to register my words. “Um, thank you?” She smiles. “There is Lisa, excuse me.”

Tamy turns away as she shows her hand to another woman, and they begin to talk. Bringing my attention back to Archer, I tug the sleeve of his jacket and pull him down toward me.

“I will eat a bowl of soup with a fork, before I become that woman’s sister-in-law,” I whisper into his ear.

“Let me make my way through the room. Try to behave,” my mom says as she walks away.

He chuckles and jabs my shoulder lightly with his elbow. “Tamy is not that bad. I need her anyway.” Archer waves to a man with a woman on his arm as they walk past us.

“Tamy has more filler than substance. Why do you need her?” I ask, flashing a smile as people pass by us.

Archer grabs my hand and moves quickly out of the ballroom down the hall. He opens a door and pulls me into a library.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask as I rub my wrist.

He closes the door behind him. “I’m about to tell you something. You can’t tell mom.”

Instantly my interest piques. “Golden boy got a dirty little secret. Please don’t say tire lips is pregnant. Mom will kill you.”

We won’t admit it out loud, it doesn’t matter how old we get, we are still a tiny bit afraid of mom.

He drags his hand through his head, and he begins to pace. Archer is the big brother of a person’s dreams. He is reliable, kind, giving, patient and he just happened to be very good looking.

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