Page 54 of Darling Nikki

“Mathias.” A high posh Southern lilt has us both turning to a well-coifed older Black couple. Mr. and Mrs. Paul Spencer, Natalie’s parents. My tummy twists and rolls.

Imperceptibly Mathias gives me a little squeeze.

“Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, so good to see you,” he says to them. Every person in the place gives us a respectful berth, but all eyes are on us. They needn’t have bothered; the Spencers are relics of the Respectability Politics era, thinking that you can be treated fairly if you play by the rules and gain power through merit.

“It’s very good to see you, son,” Mr. Spencer says, deliberately leaving me out with his emphasis on Mathias.

“And you, Nicolette.” Mrs. Spencer looks at me hard for a long moment.

“Thank you.” I smile at her nervous meeting the beautiful woman who smiles warmly after a moment.

“Maybe we can have tea next week?” Her eyes seem warm.

“I’d like that,” I say, forgetting for a moment that this is Natelie’s mom—she must hate me for ruining her daughter’s engagement.

“Hmph.” Mr. Spencer eyes his wife, who pointedly ignores him. “We won’t hold you up, son. We know you have funding to secure,” Mr. Spencer says, letting Mathias know not so subtly that he can expect no help from him.

“I hope I can at least count on your vote, sir,” Mathias says coolly, unruffled.

“Of course. Your father was one of my best friends. I could do no less, no matter how unfortunately things turned out.” Mr. Spencer nods, then casts a scathing gaze my way before moving.

“I’m not telling you what to do with your time, but I wouldn’t eat anything she served me,” Mathias whispers in my ear.

“I’m sure she was just saying that for show or to be polite,” I tell him.

For the most part, everyone was nice. Partly due to Mathias being so far in the lead with only two weeks to go. No one was overtly mean, in fact, a lot of them made it their business to invite me to other functions, even baby and bridal showers.

“Welcome to the new South.” A deep voice that sounded familiar had me turning to two men who looked exactly alike, except one had ice-blue eyes and the other had silver Shelby eyes like Mathias.

“Jackson, Jericho,” Mathias mutters.

“Hello, Cousins.” I smile at the men, gauging their reaction to my claim to kinship. “You’re practically Loves now. Thank you so much for the champagne. It made for a very interesting evening.”

A slow smile crawls up the face of the brother with the silver eyes, while blue eyes of the other spark with mischief. Even with the different eye colors I still can’t really tell who is who.

“I see you picked well, Mathias.” The blue-eyed one slyly pulls me into a hug. Damn, he smells good. Then he pushes me into his brother’s arms.

“Yeah, sweetness, are there any more Loves like you?” A seductive baritone wraps around me. His voice is full of mirth. I can feel him looking over my head to Mathias.

“Jackson, if you want to keep those tree trunks, you’ll keep them off my wife,” Mathias snaps, pulling me back into the protection of his arms.

“That’s the problem with children raise apart from their siblings,” Jackson laments. “They never learn to share.”

My gaze swings between the brothers. I know they didn’t just imply they share their women.

“It’s very nice to meet you, little cuz,” Jericho with the blue eyes says to me. “This is the first time I’ve seen this coldblooded bastard tied in knots.”

“We can’t all be prone to hissy fits, big boy.” Mathias smirks. From the expression clouding Jericho’s face, I would say he’s the more emotional of the twins.

Jackson remains coolly stoic for the next few minutes as the cousins chat about Shelby interests and how they can help the campaign.

I glean from the brothers they plan to make Shelby Sugar and Mathias’s newly acquired arm of the company to better corporate citizens.

“We have to offer people more than just good pay. People want a path to citizenship, education. We have to increase the number of people we can sponsor until we can have real immigration reform,” Jackson says.

“Agree. That’s going to be one of my main priorities,” Mathias promises.

“Make sure it is. Your old man is the reason nothing moved on this for years. As one of the biggest employers of migrants, he did so much harm. Our family members were the biggest opponents of any kind of progress in this area. We have a lot of work to do.” Jericho’s eyes are alight with passion. Maybe being the more emotional one is a good thing.

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