Page 52 of Heartless Boss
“I forgot you were coming,” I say, rubbing my neck. “I have a guest.”
It’s too soon to introduce Gia to her. If my ma doesn’t like Rainbow that might be a problem for me. After my dad left my ma, she made it her mission to learn how to read people and she’s good at it, and she accepts everyone. So if she doesn’t like you she has a valid reason. Bottom line is, if my ma doesn’t fuck with you, I’m not fucking with you.
“Who is it? Darien, Logan, or Matt? They can join us,” she says, smiling. Her white pumps click against the wooden floor as she heads to the living room.
“You haven’t met this person,” I say. Her eyes light up when she sees Gia holding a remote in her hand, aiming it at the flat screen TV.
“Who is this?” Ma’s eyes ping-pong between me and Gia, then she smiles at both of us. Gia looks at me and her with a blank expression, sucking on her bottom lip.
“Gia,” I answer for her. “We’re dating.”
Surprise flickers in my mom’s eyes as she studies Gia like a different species.
“Gia, can I see your hand, please?” my momma asks, and Gia looks at me, swallowing hard. I shrug. Reluctantly, Gia holds out her hand and my ma sets down the bowl and sage on the metal table in front of the couch. Ma holds her hand gently and flips it over, tracing her manicured nail on the lines on the inside of her palm.
Ma is into palm and tarot card reading. When I was a kid, I used to be embarrassed by her, but now I love her for who she is. A caring, quirky woman.
She makes ‘hmm’ and ‘aww’ noises, and Gia looks uncomfortable.
“You’re a sweet person, very quiet, but I sense a little sorrow in you.” Ma smiles. “I like you.”
I sigh in relief. Thank fuck.
“Gunner, she’s pretty and different from the whores you fuck.”
“Ma!” I say, and Gia giggles like a schoolgirl.
“I’m just being honest. You should settle down. You’re turning thirty-one years old in a few weeks.” Ma pinches my cheek then kisses it. I hate my birthday, and I hate she’s reminding me of it. Why do women act like it’s the end of the world when you’re not married or don’t have kids? Ever since I hit thirty, Ma, Alana, and a few women I fucked have asked me when I’m going to settle down and have a family. Like it’s a fucking crime to be single.
She leans toward Gia, examining the hickeys on her neck. “At least y’all are getting a headstart on my grandbabies.”
Rainbow covers her neck, and her cheeks turn red.
“Oh, honey, don’t be embarrassed. Sex is natural.”
Okay, Ma is getting a little too bold for my liking.
“Ma, it’s time for you to go.” I grab her bowl and that stinking-ass sage stick and shove them in her hands.
“Are you coming to our Labor Day cookout?” she asks Gia.
Gia gives a nervous laugh and says, “Okay.”
“Gunner, make sure you give her my number.”
“Sure,” I answer gently. I grab her arm and usher her to the front door.
Ma stops at the door, holds the bowl with one hand, and taps her index finger on her chin like Alana does when she’s thinking. “You really like Gia?”
“Do we have to talk about my love life?”
She gives me that you-better-answer-me look.
I shrug. “We’re not serious.”
“You should be. You need to marry her.”
I shake my head. Yeah, right. I’ll never get married. No one wants a person who has enough baggage to fill an entire room. Ma kisses me on the cheek and says her goodbye.
