Page 77 of Riches and Romance

FULL

One WeekLater

Rivers Wilde

Houston, TX

Jules

“Are you hungry?”Omar asks.

“Famished. Is there somewhere we can stop before we get to the house?”

“Of course. We’d be spoiled for choice, actually. But for something quick, we’ll go to Sweet and Lo’s—you’ll love it. When we’ve got time, I’ll take you down to The Market.”

“Are we almost there?”

“Minutes away.”

My heart skips a beat. I’m about to meet his family, and I’m more than a little nervous.

We landed in Houston this morning and spent hours getting through immigration and claiming our luggage. From the awful smell of petrol that permeates the air around the airport to the endless stream of billboards and electrical wires that run along the freeways, my first impression of Houston is that of a soulless sprawl of commercial developments and concrete.

He pulls off the next exit and makes an almost immediate right turn.

The landscape transforms from the seemingly endless stretch of highway we’ve been on for nearly an hour to something out of a dream.

The road appears to be the main artery of the subdivision. It’s bisected by a grassy, tree-lined knoll that seems to double as a walking path.

From a multicolored structure that says “welcome” in at least a dozen languages to the wide, smoothly paved streets lined with glass-front shops to the strip of green tree-lined mall that divides one side of street from the other, it says, “This is a place where we livetogether.”

When Omar promised that this place was going to make me feel at home instantly, I thought he was exaggerating. But he wasn’t.

Even from the car, the enclave of Rivers Wilde is nothing short of welcoming.

We approach a roundabout with a huge fountain in the center, and he takes the first exit. Ahead of us, the street seems to stretch on for miles, the uniformity of the storefronts disrupted by their individual logos, but the care in planning shows in every detail. Hyacinth blooms from bushes in between each shop, and a string of fairy lights runs from tree to tree in the center median.

He pulls into a parking spot. “We’re here.”

“Here” is a charming café that is straight out of one of the many American television shows that depict small town life as charming, eclectic, and warm.

“The Mastermind is back!” a dark-skinned man whose broad, toothy smile reminds me of my Dominic shouts when we walk in.

The same bright yellow signage that graces the glass-front window of the shop floats in suspension from the high ceiling above his head. “Sweet and Lo’s.”

“Lotanna, my man,” Omar greets the grinning man who steps around the counter and rushes toward us, arms outstretched.

“Sweet was going to send a search party looking for you soon.” They share a warm hug. Then Lotanna turns his beaming smile on me. “And then we saw your video. You naughty boy. How could you go find your wife and not call us immediately?”

I giggle at his calling Omar a naughty boy. He doesn’t look a day older than him. “I’m Jules.”

“Well, what a perfect name. You certainly are a jewel.” He holds his hand out for a shake, and I return his bright smile even though I’m a little bummed he didn’t hug me, too. “Thank you. So nice to meet you.” I take his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He lifts my hand and bows a little to press a kiss to the back of it. Heat rushes up my neck at the compliment, and I glance at a grinning Omar. He mouths,I told you so.

Lotanna straightens. “Now I have to make sure we restock our PG tips for you, but until then, you have to try Sweet’s special blend.” He waves us toward a table. “Sit, let me bring you something.”

Omar shakes his head. “No, Lo, we’re not staying. We just landed and are exhausted.”

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