Page 3 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

After hugging and kissing my grandparents, I walked over to my mother and planted a kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes before pulling me in for a tight hug.

On that night, my mother was drop-dead gorgeous. She wore a bright yellow linen sundress which complemented the burnished glow of her skin. The breeze flowing through the backyard tossed her honey-blonde colored curls from side-to-side. Although she was nearly forty, she didn’t look a day over twenty-eight.

During the brief embrace, my eyes moved around the scene. My grandparents’ modest backyard was a magical paradise. Twinkling white lights illuminated the gazebo and the trees. A red and white checkered tablecloth draped the long picnic table. The melamine dinnerware reserved for celebrating special occasions outfitted each place setting.

I blinked at the fabric napkins underneath the shiny stainless-steel flatware. Folded napkins? Real flatware and not the flimsy plastic forks?

They were up to something. The Alexanders take pride in being simple, everyday folk. We don’t believe in displays of excess, and this dinner was a well-orchestrated show.

“Are we expecting guests?” I asked before turning to hug my aunt.

She plastered a fake smile and shrugged her shoulders. She patted me on the back and resumed setting the table.

From the corner of my eye, I caught my grandparents’ worried stares. They both averted their eyes when I turned my head in their direction.

My face crumpled with worry. Was Goody or Pop-Pop sick? Was someone else in the family sick? I pushed all negative thoughts out of my head. I didn’t even want to think of anything that could threaten the lives of my loved ones.

Maybe Auntie was pregnant! My eternally single twenty-nine-year-old aunt always complained that her eggs were drying up. Mama filled two Mason jar glasses with a pink liquid that I recognized as Sex on the Bayou, dashing my hopes for a new addition to the family. They giggled like schoolgirls until my mother placed her index finger over her lips. They glanced my way before clinking their glasses in a toast.

Mama and Auntie were co-owners of Scrub-A-Dub Cleaning Company. The sisters opened the business eight years ago with a small investment from my grandparents. Clever marketing and use of environmentally friendly products catapulted Scrub-A-Dub into a premier house cleaning company. They captured market share by servicing areas that other cleaning companies were afraid to venture into.

Dinner began promptly at six o’clock. We locked hands and bowed our heads. As the patriarch of our family, my grandfather led us in prayer. Soliloquy is more like it. The prayer went on for minutes. He thanked God for a loyal family and our ability to support each other during hard times. He intended the prayer for someone at the table.

I popped open an eye and analyzed each person’s demeanor. Buzzed from the moonshine, Auntie Marie swayed back and forth in her chair. My mother’s bowed head bobbed as her right leg rapidly tapped the ground. My grandmother nodded her head and interjected “amens” when appropriate.

Their strange behavior continued throughout dinner. They each stole glances at me when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.

“Kandi, why don’t you have a sip?” asked Marie-Therese. She picked up a pitcher and filled the Mason jar in front of me.

My eyes met my mother’s as she nodded permission. I winced as the liquid slid down my throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I know from experience that the cranberry, orange, and moonshine concoction is best when sipped slowly. You had to pace yourself because moonshine would put hair on your chest or make you hallucinate that there was a crop of hair between your breasts.

“Kandi, I’ll allow you to have a glass, but this won’t become a habit. I don’t want us to go down the path that leads to you calling me by my first name like we’re girlfriends,” she said.

Celeste Alexander considered it her responsibility to ensure that I was on the right track. In her mind, it wasn’t appropriate for a mother and daughter to bond over cocktails. I didn’t want to be a falling-down drunk with her—I wanted to be deemed as capable of having a drink without getting hammered.

“You guys are acting strangely. What’s going on?” I spat out, unable to take any more of their phony behavior. My mother stiffened and wrung her hands.

“We’re short-staffed. Virginia Johnson is out on emergency bed rest.”

I groaned. I was the intended target of the prayer. Sensing my disappointment, her next words came out in a rush.

“Kandi, we had to shift a few assignments to cover her absence. Then, I received a last-minute request from Chadwick St. Clair.” My ears perked up at the mention of Chadwick. I didn’t know he was back in New Orleans. Last I’d heard, he was in law school in Washington D.C. I continued to listen carefully to her next words, feeling on edge about what she needed from me. Most importantly, how her request related to Chadwick.

“He’s wrapping up a renovation project in the Warehouse District. Someone needs to coordinate the post-construction cleaning and long-term maintenance of the common areas. He also needs someone to service his loft once or twice a week.” She said, trying to catch my gaze. I refused to look at her, she continued, “Chadwick is family. I couldn’t say no.”

“Kandi, we’re sorry,” Auntie Marie spoke up, “I know you wanted to spend the summer running around the city with your friends. But the family needs you to start work in the morning.”

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. My fury hadn’t diminished, so I continued until I reached thirty.

My family waited with bated breath as I pondered my response. If I declined this request, there would be another one to take its place. Chadwick St. Clair was a bachelor. I was sure the job would be a cakewalk. How bad could working for Chadwick be?

“Okay,” I huffed. “I’ll do it.”

“Good. I’ll call Chadwick tonight and let him know to expect you in the morning,” said my mother.

“This feels like bribery,” I stated, waving my arms around at the elaborate meal and decorations.

“It is. After a little more of this, you won’t remember any of it. Salut!” Marie-Therese picked up her Mason glass of liquor and smiled wickedly, showing her straight, white teeth.

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