Page 16 of Mr. Right Now
Something in his expression gave her pause. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Is there a problem?”
“No. My mother asked, nodemandedI bring you over so she can meet you.”
Jayana wished she knew what he was thinking, but his expression gave away nothing. “Do you have a problem with me meeting her? It might be a little too soon for meet-the-parents, but no way am I going to get on her bad side by declining her…um…demand. So start this baby up and let’s get this party started.”
Dante shook his head. “I’m almost afraid for the two of you to meet,” he muttered.
She stared out the window and tried not to be hurt by his statement. “Why? If you don’t want me to meet her, fine.”
He turned her face toward him. “Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it, baby.”
Baby?The endearment made her pulse skip.
“What I meant is that you two are a lot alike and the both of you together are going to give me fits. Trust me when I tell you my mother is going to love you.”
“Oh. That makes me feel better.” Jayana wanted to ask what he meant by them giving him fits, but she decided to wait and see how the visit went first. They passed the drive talking about everything from their favorite music artists—they both loved her Atlanta hometown girl, Zena Fuller—to best vacation spots. Any calm she felt fled the moment he parked in his mother’s circular driveway in the upscale neighborhood. Because he’d said to dress casual, she had on a pair of jeans, a V-neck tee and ballet flats. Had she known she’d be meeting his mother, and in what looked like a mini-mansion, she would’ve opted for something dressier, or at least business casual. He helped her out of the car, but didn’t let go of her hand.
Dante placed a kiss on her temple. “Relax. I can feel the tension bouncing off you.”
“Hey, I haven’t been introduced to anybody’s mama since my high school prom, so I’m a little nervous.”
Gathering her in his embrace, he said, “Again, you have nothing to worry about. I promise.”
“I’m holding you to it. If she doesn’t like me, I’m gonna seriously hurt you, Dante Powell.” His rumbling laughter vibrated against her cheek. She backed out of his arms. He stuck his key in the door, but before he could turn the lock, it swung open. A beautiful, trim woman a couple of inches shorter than her stood in the doorway with a wide smile. She had the same toffee coloring as Dante with salt and pepper hair that hung straight around her shoulders.
“It’s about time you got here. You must be Jayana. Please come in.” She took Jayana’s hand and pulled her into the house, then turned back. “You coming in, son?”
“I guess. Can’t even get a hello and I’m supposed to be your favorite son.”
His mother waved a dismissive hand. “Just close the door and hush. See what I have to deal with,” she said to Jayana.
“I’m just going to be the guest for today. I’ll take sides next time.”
Mrs. Powell laughed. “Dante, she’s definitely a keeper. Can I get you anything? If you haven’t had lunch, I can fix something.”
“Ah, Mom, we have lunch plans already. We just stopped by so you can meet her.”
“Oh, okay.”
Jayana bit her lip to hide her smile at the woman’s disappointment. “I’m sure we have a few minutes to talk, though. Right, Dante?”
He nodded.
They followed Mrs. Powell through an elegantly decorated living room to the family room and sat. The entire house could have been featured in one of those home magazines.
“I understand from my daughter that you two met on a flight, then you ended up working at the center.”
“Yes, and we were both surprised.” Jayana hazarded a glance at Dante, hoping his mother didn’t know the details of that first “meeting.”
“I bet, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about you and how you’re already making a difference in those children’s lives.”
“I hope so. It’s a great place to work and I really enjoy the students.” Mrs. Powell launched into an interrogation about where Jayana previously lived and worked, where she saw herself in five years, and threw out not-so-subtle hints about her hopes for Jayana and Dante’s relationship.
About five minutes in, Dante said, “Okay, Mom. We need to get going. You’ve grilled her long enough.”
Mrs. Powell brought a hand to her chest and said innocently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just having a simple conversation.”
“Mmm hmm. If that’s what you want to call it.” He extended his hand and gently pulled Jayana to her feet, then did the same with his mother.
