Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
JOURDANNE
Two fancy dinners and a trip to Europe in only the first couple of weeks of meeting Matt and Leandro. Their lifestyle was certainly busy and luxurious, which was partly why I was excited to have a normal “date” with Matt and go for ice cream. I was disappointed to hear he wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t make it.
Leandro had texted me about a dinner with his parents, though, so I thought maybe that had something to do with Matt’s abrupt cancellation.
Leandro and I would be leaving for Geneva in just a couple of days. I had already packed and told my dad about the trip away. I didn’t tell him everything, though. Parvati lent me a dress for the dinner, and while I tried it on, we went over some basic etiquette. It was nothing I didn’t already know, but since she was from a traditional family with unmistakable values, she wanted me to know exactly how to impress.
I got to the mansion at seven o’clock sharp. The place was simply beautiful. A maid let me in, and I immediately discovered fresh flowers everywhere. There was soft music playing in the background as I followed the maid through the mansion, past the grand staircase and toward the dining room; she gestured for me to enter.
“Jourdanne!” Leandro got up from his seat at the table and met me with a kiss to my cheek. At first, it was strange to have him so close to me, but when he took my hand in his, I felt comfort like I usually did with Matt. Of course, Matt was not allowed to be discussed at the dinner, so I shook him from my mind and gave Leandro a big smile.
“Hello.” I greeted Leandro’s parents at the table. Leandro walked me to my seat, which was next to him at the head of the table. His mother sat to his right, and his father beside her. His father was kind and said a few gentle things in Italian. He reached over the table and shook my hand with a gracious smile. Leandro’s mother, however, sat there watching me cautiously. After Leandro and I sat down, his mother leaned over and whispered something to him. Her eyes kept popping back over to me, and it was starting to feel creeped out.
Leandro said something in Italian to her, and as he did, he put his hand on the table with just enough force to draw attention. He sat up straight, forced a quick smile, then looked to me with a softness in his gaze.
“You look lovely.”
“Thank you.”
I’d chosen to wear a black dress with green florals throughout. It was festive, but not gawky. The material was also very soft, and it moved freely on my body. I wore black heels to match, and I kept my hair down this time. Parvati helped me style it loosely into waves, and she also insisted I try out the smoky eye makeup look. It turned out stunning, I have to say.
The kitchen crew brought out our dinner. It was chicken scampi dressed with peppers and lemons. There were breadsticks and salad too. Leandro and his dad talked through most of dinner while his mother watched my every move. When the man pouring drinks offered me more, I gladly took all I could.
Near the end of dinner, Leandro’s mother finally broke her silence and said something to her son. This time, she didn’t bother whispering or speaking privately. It was Italian, of course, so I had no idea what she was saying, but it was obvious she didn’t like me. From the second she saw me walk through the door she was judging me, and not just how I behaved. It felt like she was judging my soul! That woman stared so deeply into me it was no wonder Leandro felt intimidated by her.
Leandro reached over and took my hand as he shook his head at his mother’s words. He was done giving her attention for whatever it was she was saying, and instead he faced me with a smile. I gave his hand a little squeeze, just to say that I understood him then, but the moment was far from over.
His mother put her napkin on the table in a gust of frustration. She sat forward and spoke to me in plain English. “How old are you?” The tone of her voice and the concern in her eyes made it clear why she had disliked me from the start. She thought I was a gold digger. How dare she. I wasn’t there to seduce her son and steal away his money in forty years when he’d die! How absurd! Of course, he was paying me to be there, and to travel with him… and to have sex with his lover.