Page 55 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

“No. You will not do that. Tell me.”

I continued to kiss her behind the ear, my beard tickling her. She squealed and pushed me away. I leaned back against the sofa pillows and heaved another sigh.

“My dad knows. He called me to his office and showed me a copy of our marriage license.”

I guzzled a swallow from my glass before she grabbed it from my hand and took a swig. She winced as the bourbon burned her throat.

“What else did he say?”

“He gave me one week to tell my mother, or he will tell her. Sweets, I know you wanted to wait, but we need to prepare ourselves to tell our families. How do you feel about it?”

“I can do it. I’ll need a few more days. I don’t expect my family to turn cartwheels.”

“We can tell my mother first. Then, we’ll tell your family.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell my mother alone. I don’t think she’ll react favorably toward you.”

She leaned into me, her hand rubbing my chest. I sank into the sensation and enjoyed the casual gentleness. The move felt natural and comforting. I reached for her hand and kissed her wrist. The pulse flickered against my lips. We sat like that for ages.

Kandace’s phone rang. She looked at the photo of Celeste and ignored the call. One minute later, Celeste called again. Kandace ignored that call, too. ?Then,?Marie-Therese called, at which point she turned off the phone completely.

“Goodness. She spent the better part of yesterday yelling at me for not having the staffing plan prepared for you. I’m sure that’s what they want. We have bigger fish to fry. We need to figure out how to break the news to our families. How do you feel about roasted chicken breasts?” She stood to walk over to the kitchen. I smacked her ass as she walked by.

“Let’s go out.”

We walked to the neighboring Emeril Lagasse restaurant for dinner. Over Lobster Cannelloni, we agreed to tell my mother, then Kandace would break the news to Celeste over a mother-daughter brunch. She wanted to do it in public because she was unsure how Celeste would react. She would ply her mother with mimosas and then spring the news on her.

We clinked our glasses together and drank to developing the perfect plan.

After dinner, we walked home in the warm summer evening. I draped my arm around Kandace’s shoulders while she wrapped her arms around my waist.

“That pecan pie was delicious!” she beamed at me. “Too bad I only had a tiny piece—”

From the corner of my eye, I saw two women pacing back and forth in front of the empty storefronts under construction. They both wore intense expressions. One was gleeful, and the other was visibly angry.

“Ain’t this a bitch?”

Kandace

“Mama? Auntie? What are you guys doing here?” I moved out of Chadwick’s arms and walked over to where they stood.

“So, it’s true?” Marie-Therese looked between the two of us. Excitement tinged her question, her eyes darting between the two of us. Before Chadwick or I could answer, my mother began her harangue.

“You ignored our calls. I assumed the six thousand dollar bracelet was a fake.” She looked over at Chadwick and added a nonchalant, “Nice taste.” She wailed, shoving a piece of paper into my hands, “I even believed the lie that the bruise on your neck was from a flatiron. I’ve been such a fool.”

It was a printout of an article from City and Town,?a local gossip website, and I groaned as I read the headline. It was safe to say our marriage was now public knowledge. The article, “Off the Market: Chadwick St. Clair,” detailed every single aspect of the wedding and honeymoon, from my dress to the flowers and even the tears in Chadwick’s eyes. The worst parts were the details of our bar tab and allusions to Chadwick’s performance on our wedding night.

At some point, we would have to address who leaked our wedding details, but for now, I needed to resolve this mess with my mother. And it was a mess. Her voice was stern, and she focused all of her attention on me.

“It’s bad enough that you got married. But I had to learn about it from a blog?” She turned to Chadwick, “I know this was all your doing.”

She flopped down on the concrete stairs leading to a neighboring storefront. With her hands over her eyes, she shook her head back and forth. Chadwick and my aunt looked at my mother with similar looks of amusement.

“I regret putting my baby girl in harm’s way,” she said to no one in particular. “I raised my daughter to be a good girl.” She spat out, “She’s a far cry from the whores and witches that frequent this . . . this . . . brothel. A proverbial den of lowlifes. Her innocence stolen by some overindulged playboy . . . My baby. I’ve failed you.” She sobbed the last sentence.

I looked helplessly over at my aunt. She firmly pressed her lips together in a vain attempt at hiding her laughter. She walked over and intertwined her pinky with mine. This was a secret gesture we had always shared when one of us needed support and acceptance. She lifted my left hand and surveyed the wedding set. She nudged me with her arm and raised her brows in approval. Untwining her pinky, she held out a fist with her other hand. I grinned as I balled my fist and knocked it against hers.

That?small moment of acceptance was short-lived as my mother continued her diatribe, this time with her eyes firmly planted on Chadwick.

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