you!”
“Real life isn’t like that. Seriously, I’m banning the chick-flicks.” She smiled and shook her head. “But we are watching a horror movie.”
“See!” Melia grabbed her hand. “I told you!”
“Yea, but it’s too bad scary movies never scare me, ya know. Since I grew up seeing ghosts, the fake ones just don’t cut it.”
*
“You look amazing,” Peter couldn’t help but gush when Melia opened the front door. She teetered on her platforms trying to hold Wolfy back. “It’s ok. He’ll settle down if I say hi to him.” Peter braced himself as the nearly two hundred pound dog put his paws on his shoulders. He tilted his head back to avoid being slobbered.
Someone whistled from inside the house. Wolfy bounded away, knowing that the whistle was often accompanied by a treat. Peter paused inside the foyer, quickly debating if he should take his shoes off. Melia had hers on, but they were fancy and probably clean. He’d rather take them off. Peter took Melia’s hand. Nerves and excitement bubbled in his stomach as he stepped closer to kiss her. Even in heels, Peter was a few inches taller than Melia.
“You smell good,” she told him, breathing in his cologne.
“Thanks.”
“Come in, I want you to meet my family.”
The excitement melted and the nerves doubled. Family? Shit. Why didn’t I think of that? “Ok.” Peter hoped Melia stayed with him. He would get lost in this house.
“Good evening,” Charles said to them as they passed through the kitchen. He set a bowl down for Wolfy to devour.
“Hi Charles.” Melia smiled. “This is Peter.”
“Peter, nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Peter said, feeling even more nervous as Charles’ judgmental eyes beat into him.
“What are you two doing tonight?” he asked, turning to the counter and slowly sliding a large butcher knife from the knife block. He turned it, the shiny metal catching the bright kitchen lights.
Peter swallowed. “Dinner and a movie.”
“Hm. Typical.” He ran his finger over the knife.
Melia practically jumped with excitement. “I know!”
“Your mother is out on the veranda.” Charles set the knife down. “Have fun. Treat her well and don’t keep her out too late.”
“Ok and I won’t.” Peter stumbled after Melia. Are all personal chefs that protective? He pondered that until Melia opened the glass doors and stepped outside.
“Mom, Edward, this is Peter.” She held his hand tightly. Edward and Nyneve were sitting on a rocking bench, both with a drink in hand. Edward had his arm casually draped around Nyneve. He stood and extended his hand. Peter had to pull his out of Melia’s grip to shake Edward’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Peter said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.
“Please, call me Ed.” He smiled, his expression warmer than Peter expected. Edward VanBurren was a well known business man. Professionally, he was ruthless and cutthroat. Peter imagined him only wearing suits and ties. But here he was, holding a Corona, wearing khaki shorts and a Yankees tee shirt. “Melia’s told us all about you. Please, sit.”
Melia sat on a chaise lounge, and patted the cushion next to her. Peter took a seat at her side. She put her arm around his and held his hand.
“Hello Peter,” Melia’s mother spoke. She had a slight accent. Peter couldn’t place it. “I’m Nyneve, but everyone calls me Eve.” Peter nodded. His parents made his friends call them ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ Nyneve was gorgeous; Peter could see where Melia got her good looks. “How are you doing tonight, Peter?”
“Uh, good. Excited.” He laughed nervously.
“The first date is the best,” Edward said, sipping his beer and looking into Nyneve’s eyes. “Do you remember our first date?”
“Of course.” She put her head on his shoulder. “You flew me on your private jet to New York for dinner.”
Peter turned to Melia. “I hope you don’t expect anything that
“Real life isn’t like that. Seriously, I’m banning the chick-flicks.” She smiled and shook her head. “But we are watching a horror movie.”
“See!” Melia grabbed her hand. “I told you!”
“Yea, but it’s too bad scary movies never scare me, ya know. Since I grew up seeing ghosts, the fake ones just don’t cut it.”
*
“You look amazing,” Peter couldn’t help but gush when Melia opened the front door. She teetered on her platforms trying to hold Wolfy back. “It’s ok. He’ll settle down if I say hi to him.” Peter braced himself as the nearly two hundred pound dog put his paws on his shoulders. He tilted his head back to avoid being slobbered.
Someone whistled from inside the house. Wolfy bounded away, knowing that the whistle was often accompanied by a treat. Peter paused inside the foyer, quickly debating if he should take his shoes off. Melia had hers on, but they were fancy and probably clean. He’d rather take them off. Peter took Melia’s hand. Nerves and excitement bubbled in his stomach as he stepped closer to kiss her. Even in heels, Peter was a few inches taller than Melia.
“You smell good,” she told him, breathing in his cologne.
“Thanks.”
“Come in, I want you to meet my family.”
The excitement melted and the nerves doubled. Family? Shit. Why didn’t I think of that? “Ok.” Peter hoped Melia stayed with him. He would get lost in this house.
“Good evening,” Charles said to them as they passed through the kitchen. He set a bowl down for Wolfy to devour.
“Hi Charles.” Melia smiled. “This is Peter.”
“Peter, nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Peter said, feeling even more nervous as Charles’ judgmental eyes beat into him.
“What are you two doing tonight?” he asked, turning to the counter and slowly sliding a large butcher knife from the knife block. He turned it, the shiny metal catching the bright kitchen lights.
Peter swallowed. “Dinner and a movie.”
“Hm. Typical.” He ran his finger over the knife.
Melia practically jumped with excitement. “I know!”
“Your mother is out on the veranda.” Charles set the knife down. “Have fun. Treat her well and don’t keep her out too late.”
“Ok and I won’t.” Peter stumbled after Melia. Are all personal chefs that protective? He pondered that until Melia opened the glass doors and stepped outside.
“Mom, Edward, this is Peter.” She held his hand tightly. Edward and Nyneve were sitting on a rocking bench, both with a drink in hand. Edward had his arm casually draped around Nyneve. He stood and extended his hand. Peter had to pull his out of Melia’s grip to shake Edward’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Peter said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.
“Please, call me Ed.” He smiled, his expression warmer than Peter expected. Edward VanBurren was a well known business man. Professionally, he was ruthless and cutthroat. Peter imagined him only wearing suits and ties. But here he was, holding a Corona, wearing khaki shorts and a Yankees tee shirt. “Melia’s told us all about you. Please, sit.”
Melia sat on a chaise lounge, and patted the cushion next to her. Peter took a seat at her side. She put her arm around his and held his hand.
“Hello Peter,” Melia’s mother spoke. She had a slight accent. Peter couldn’t place it. “I’m Nyneve, but everyone calls me Eve.” Peter nodded. His parents made his friends call them ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ Nyneve was gorgeous; Peter could see where Melia got her good looks. “How are you doing tonight, Peter?”
“Uh, good. Excited.” He laughed nervously.
“The first date is the best,” Edward said, sipping his beer and looking into Nyneve’s eyes. “Do you remember our first date?”
“Of course.” She put her head on his shoulder. “You flew me on your private jet to New York for dinner.”
Peter turned to Melia. “I hope you don’t expect anything that
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