Juliet raised her hands in a defensive surrender. “No judging. I can’t even imagine.”
“Damn right you can’t, now come help me open this bottle of Chardonnay before we get started. I swear, already these kids are working my last nerve.”
Juliet walked over to where she knew the wine glasses were held and randomly grabbed two.
“Not those,” Beatrice said, “we’re going to need some Olivia Pope sized fishbowls today.”
Juliet laughed. It was their usual Thursday night routine to watch Scandal together while on the phone and yell at the T.V. Especially when Olivia inevitably got back with Fitz, whom neither of them preferred to Jake.
“What’s going on, Bea?” she asked, switching out the perfectly proper white wine glasses for the ones that might indeed be described as small fishbowls.
Beatrice just sighed. “Girl, what isn’t up. I’ve got a prima donna tween going on thirty with her sassy self, a know-it-all 10-year-old, and five-year-old twins. You do the math.”
“Hmm, fair enough,” Juliet said, bringing the glasses over.
“Mom!” the voice of her niece, Nicole preceded her into the kitchen. She paused only a second when she saw Juliet.
Beatrice’s husband, Sam, was white and Juliet could see the perfect blend of both of them in her niece.
“Mom,” Nicole repeated, now ignoring her aunt. “Can’t I just go to Monica’s house for a couple of hours while you all—?”
“Absolutely not, if I let you go now, I won’t see you until the party’s half over. Besides, it’s not like this was a surprise. You knew this was coming, and you knew you had to be here. I don’t even want to hear it.”
Juliet knew when to duck out and decided to focus on pouring the wine instead, making sure to give her sister an extra drop or two.
“But this is the first party with the new pool!” Nicole was nearly at the point of stomping her feet.
“Which means there will be plenty of others down the line.”
“Yeah but this is the biggest! Everyone is going to be there! Everyone except me!” her voice became increasingly excited and contentious.
“We’ll I guess that means you’ll be all the more welcome next time around.”
“Ugh!” Nicole grunted, with all the end-of-the-world angst that only a pre-teen could manage, before spinning on her heels to head out of the kitchen.
“Nicole!” her niece wasn’t so far into her double-digits to completely ignore the warning tone in her mother’s voice. “Are you forgetting someone who came all the way up from Houston to visit us? I think you need to say hello to your aunt Juliet.”
“Hello,” she managed, with enough sarcasm poured on top to sink the Titanic. Before Beatrice could reprimand her, she had spun back around and stormed off.
Beatrice gave a heavy sigh as she looked out the windows in the kitchen to the backyard. “Sometimes I miss the days when it was just me and Sam.”
She gave a slightly nostalgic smile as she swirled her glass of wine around. “Weekends like this, we’d wake up and share a bong and watch cartoons. How crazy is that?” she turned to Juliet with a wry smile.
Juliet’s eyes grew wide. She could picture that with her older, and far more Bohemian sister. Beatrice’s husband Sam was about as straight-laced as they came. Maybe they had more in common than Juliet had always thought.
It obviously made her think about Chance and herself.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong; I love my children to death, but…” Beatrice shook her head and gave another small sigh, “…days like today make me envy you, sis.”
As if to cement the point, a cacophony of what could only be described as World War III took place above them.
“It’s mine!”
“No it’s not!”
It sounded like her five-year-old twin nephews. Juliet cast a worried glance in her sister’s direction.
Beatrice gave a brief laugh. “Don’t worry, I can tell when something is broken or bleeding. They’re fine.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, all this freedom of mine goes to waste. Do you know what my Saturday mornings are like? Spin class, Starbucks, and laundry, or grocery shopping, or grading papers, or, well, something other than smoking pot and watching cartoons.”
She thought about the weekend with Chance that was anything but normal. She sipped her wine and eyed her sister over the top of her glass, deciding what to tell her about Chance.
Finally, she set it down and took a breath.
“I invited someone.”
The doorbell rang just as Beatrice set her wine glass down to hear more.
“Viola!” Nicole’s voice shouted excitedly, which answered the question as to which of her aunts was her favorite.
The two older sisters waited for their youngest to make an appearance in the kitchen.
“Hello, hello!” Viola said, throwing her hands in the air as she made her entrance, eagerly followed by Nicole, who all of a sudden didn’t care about a pool party that was going on elsewhere in San Antonio.
Once again, Juliet was struck by how different she was from her sisters. Viola was more rebellious than Bohemian, with her afro mohawk dyed a bright red at the ends. She wore denim overalls over a bright yellow tube top, the perfect attire for their parents’ 36th wedding anniversary, even if it was a barbecue.
“Is Sarah coming?” Nicole asked. For some reason, the fact that her aunt was a lesbian gave her a certain caché. Even Juliet had to admit that Viola’s girlfriend was…interesting.
“Later, Nikki,” she assured her niece, then turned her attention to Beatrice and Juliet. “And how are my two favorite sisters?”
“Juliet was just telling me that she has a beau.”
“Ooh, do tell!” Viola said gleefully. Even Nicole seemed suddenly interested in her aunt.
The intimate chat she’d planned with her oldest sister had turned just into a side show. Juliet took a sip from her wine, now glad for her sister’s insistence upon opening a bottle.
“He’s a man I met two weeks ago,” she smiled as she remembered the Mixers & Elixirs event. “We went on a date and hit it off.”
She shrugged as though that was all there was to it and took another sip.
“Oh no you don’t get off that easily,” said Viola.
“There has to be more to it than that,” Beatrice chimed in. “Especially if you’re inviting him here.”
“Is he at least cute?” Nicole asked skeptically.
“Yes, he’s cute,” Juliet said.
“One date and you’re inviting him to Mom and Dad’s anniversary party?” Viola asked.
“It’s not like it’s a formal occasion, and there will be so many people tonight that mom and Dad won’t even notice.”
Viola laughed at that. “Oh, they’ll notice all right.”
“But will they approve?” Beatrice added, raising an eyebrow.
Juliet blew out her mouth.
“Oh, snap!” Viola squealed. “I know that look.”
“What look?” Nicole asked.
“The look that says Dad’s gonna have a shit fit.”
“Viola!” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes toward Nicole, who just rolled her own eyes.
“So what’s the deal?” Viola asked. “Spill it.”
Juliet took another sip before answering. To be honest, she wasn’t sure how to answer.
“Well, right now he works on an oil rig,” she said, keeping it somewhat ambiguous.
That was met with stunned silence.
“But he actually plays poker for a living,” she added quickly, which she realized too late didn’t sound much better.
Beatrice just raised her eyebrows as she sipped her wine.
Viola had a half smile on her face.
Nicole was just looking at her as though she was an alien.
“What?” Juliet asked with exasperation.
“Maybe don’t lead with that one when you introduce him to Dad,” Beatrice suggested.
“Screw that,” Viola said. “If you’re bringing that guy here after one date, he’s obviously something special. I saw that smile when you first brought him up. Own your man, Juliet.”
Juliet gave a pleased smile to her younger sister, feeling slightly bolstered.
“Well, I do have to say it’s a refreshing change from the guys you usually bore my ear off of with.”
“What?” Juliet retorted, casting a surprised look Beatrice’s way.
Beatrice just shrugged, sipping her wine before continuing. “You never seemed interested is all I’m sayin’. At least this one seems to spark something in you. Anyone who can put that smile on my little sis’ face is perfectly welcome in my home. So he’s coming?”
“Yeah,” Juliet said, still amazed he agreed to it.
“There’s that smile again,” Viola said. “Gurrrl, you better hold on to this one, oil rig poker player or whatever.”
“At least he’s cute,” Nicole said, sticking to the important point.
15
“Chance!”
If Chance had been the typical sort who got nervous meeting new people, especially the family of the woman he was dating, that smile would have melted his fears away.
As it was, it created enough heat to stir something else in him. Something that probably wasn’t quite appropriate for meeting-the-parents.
“Juliet,” He replied, taking in the refreshing sight of her once again. He had a bottle of wine and a nice looking bouquet of tulips with him, in consideration of the occasion.
Juliet was wearing an extraordinarily feminine dress that had swishy skirts and off the shoulder ruffles, with just two tiny straps holding it up over her shoulders, which glittered as though they had been dusted with gold. The nails showing in her strappy sandals matched those on her fingers, which were now a soft pink to match the color of that dress. Her hair was down past her shoulders with waves that had a Veronica Lake vibe about them.
Sexy as hell.
Chance had upshifted his attire to a white dress shirt and crisp, black jeans over a pair of black cowboy boots. He’d done something with his hair that actually required the use of a comb through wet hair, making it seem somewhat “done.” Based on the looks of the pre-teen girl staring at him open-mouthed and the two women—who couldn’t be anyone other than Juliet’s sisters, despite the sharp contrast with her in terms of style—standing a few feet behind Juliet, the ensemble was working.
The one behind her wearing a sleeveless, flowing tunic dress in some exotic pattern came up to greet him.
“Don’t just leave him standing there in the doorway, Juliet,” she admonished before turning to him with a smile that was almost as impressive as Juliet’s. She took the bottle from him as she greeted him. “You must be Juliet’s new beau. I’m Beatrice.”
Beau? Chance let it quickly roll around in his head and decided he was happy with the label.
“Guilty as charged,” he said, shaking her offered hand and giving her his most flirtatious grin. He could practically see her heart go pitter-pat. Chip wasn’t the only one with the McCoy charm. Chance knew a thing or two about winning people over when necessary.
“So you’re the poker-playing oil rig worker huh?” the other sister said approaching him. She hooked her thumbs into her overalls and rolled on the balls of her feet with a smile that seemed eagerly amused.
Chance raised an eyebrow at Juliet.
“I told them about you.”
“But not mom and dad,” the one with the red mohawk said, almost gleefully.
“Viola,” said Juliet with an irritated glance at her sister.
“What? It’s about time that someone other than Viola the supreme disappointment rattled their nerves a bit.” She said it in such an exaggerated, eye-rolling way that Chance could see she didn’t take it too seriously.
“Perhaps if you hadn’t named your band Pacific Foreplay, then they would be a little more impressed with you,” the other sister said.
“Oh please, Bea. Don’t act like you aren’t just a teeny bit excited to see our little talented tenth here play her own starring role in Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”
That one certainly put things in perspective.
“Why don’t we get you a beer and some ribs?” Juliet interjected, taking his arm and casting a tight-lipped, hard stare at her sisters as she led him away.
“Welcome to the Dumas family,” she said with a sigh.
Chance just laughed. He knew a thing or two about family dynamics.
The house was a pretty decent size, which was good since there were so many people in attendance. Apparently the elder Dumases were very popular.
The ribs were amazing. Chance had met the cook, Beatrice’s husband and had been slightly surprised to find Sam was also white, albeit in a much more bland sort of way than Chance. The kind that was probably much more palatable to parents in general.
Chance had yet to meet Juliet’s, and he had an inkling that she was delaying it as long as possible. It didn’t bother him since he had a thick skin. Based on the interaction with her sisters, there was bound to be a bit of drama involved.
“Why did Beatrice call you the talented tenth?”
Juliet was holding a very large barbecue sauce-slathered rib. It was amusingly incongruous with the rest of her frilly get-up, especially with the way she held it: two dainty hands; pink fingernails; pinky fingers pointed out.
“Hmm?” she hummed raising her eyebrows at him. Then she gave a short laugh before rolling her eyes. “W. E. B. Du Bois.”
The name lit a familiar spark at the back of his mind.
“My dad is real big on black people doing better. The long and short of it is that one in ten of us has to be the guiding light to lead the rest, and all that jazz.”
“And that burden is on you?” he asked with a teasing smile.
“Well, Beatrice is a stay at home mom, the horror! It didn’t help that she dropped out of med school to do it. And Viola is…well, Viola,” she raised her eyes knowingly at him.
Chance gave a light laugh.
“So yes, I’m officially the golden child meant to pick up the torch and lead the way,” she said loftily. “Can’t have all the Dumas girls going to waste.”
“Juliet, there you are!”
Her eyes went wide as the baritone voice rang out through the crowd.
“Prepare yourself,” she said quickly before setting her rib down and wiping her hands fastidiously. She turned around to meet the man behind that voice.
Chance watched him make his way through the crowd. He was tall and had a few features that were similar to Juliet, mostly the nose and slightly jutting chin. He wore glasses and had a bookish look about him that bordered on geeky, and not in the cool way that was so popular these days. He wore a pink polo shirt tucked into a pair of khaki shorts all matched with a pair of boat shoes. Very backyard-barbecue-in-the-suburbs. He was practically dragging another, younger man in his early thirties along with him.
“Oh, I see you’ve brought someone to our anniversary party,” he said. Chance read every bit of the subtext that was meant to be read in that one sentence.
“Yes Dad,” Juliet said, casting a wary glance at the man standing next to him, who was beginning to look anything but pleased about being in the middle of what was obviously about to go down. “This is Chance, my date.”
She turned to Chance. “Chance, this is Thomas Dumas, my father.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Chance said, rising up respectfully and reaching out the hand that he had wiped in anticipation of this.
“Hmm,” Thomas said, eyeing him up and down and giving him a firm grip that left any hint of geekiness behind. Chance could see the cunning assessment in those eyes.
“Chance,” he said, offering his hand to the man beside Thomas once he let go.
“Ah-uh, David,” the man said, reaching out a hand to shake his with a surprised look on his face. He was handsome enough in a Don Cheadle sort of way,
but it was obvious to both of them that he was being used as some sort of pawn. A measuring stick by which to judge Juliet’s new friend.
“Ah yes,” Thomas interjected, putting his hand on David’s shoulder and deftly turning him towards Juliet. “Now, Juliet, I know you’ve already chosen a topic to work on during your sabbatical, but I really think you should consider doing something political when you are done with that, just to secure that tenure. Nothing too heavy obviously, especially in this charged climate. But politics are sexy, and statistics are a hot topic. You saw what happened with the presidential election. This here is David Finley. He works as—”
“Happy anniversary Dad,” Juliet said in a placating tone that had the tiniest patronizing edge to it. “Maybe we could just enjoy your special day. After all it’s not every couple that lasts 36 years. I have a whole semester to focus on my sabbatical topic.”
Thomas looked at Juliet, somewhat flustered, then sighed, letting a smile come to his face. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Poor David looked as though he was caught on the beaches of Normandy during D-Day. He looked back and forth between Chance, Juliet, and Thomas with an expression that indicated he might very well have preferred being stuck between the Germans and the Allied Forces.
“It was very nice to have met you David Finley,” Juliet said by way of excusing him. He gave her a brief grateful smile and managed to disentangle himself from her dad’s clutches.
Thomas watched him go with consternation then turned his eyes to Chance with a not-so-subtle accusatory squint to them. “And just what do you do for a living, young man?”
“Dad,” Juliet protested.
“Sort of a Jack of all trades,” Chance said, then hit him with the hammer. “Right now I work on an oil rig.”
Chance watched Juliet bite back a smile while her father’s eyes nearly goggled out of their sockets.
“But my real profession, if you can call it that, is playing poker.”
That created a subtle, though no less horrified change in Thomas’ expression. The look of horror shifted to one of suspicion. Obviously, poker was no better in Thomas’ book than work on an oil rig.
High Stakes: A Texas Heat Romance Page 8