Page 7 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

Matt swallowed then arched an eyebrow at his mother. “Calm down, Mum. It’s not as if I’m eating food off her naked body, it’s just her fork.”

Matt looked at me out the corner of his eyes, a devious smirk lingered around his mouth. Shit. He was thinking about doing it now, probably planning something that involved food, me and a mess.

“Matt.” I hissed in embarrassment right as his mother’s cheeks flushed bright red and she said tartly, “Matthew!”

His father just shook his head, but I swore he was fighting a knowing grin.

“What?” Matt asked innocently as he resumed eating his starter.

I knew my knight and I knew he was needling his mother on purpose.Damn,damn, damn. Were they right? Was he with me out of some perverse attempt to make a point to his parents? I would rip his balls out then feed them to him if that was the case.

“So, Madison,” William Jnr began politely. “How are you dealing with the press? Being with my son has propelled you into the spotlight, put you under media scrutiny-”

“She’s handling it just fine, Dad.” Matt interrupted tightly.

“She can answer for herself.” I chastised Matt with a little shake of my head before looking across the table at his father. “It’s difficult sometimes, Mr Bradley. The unwanted intrusion into my personal life is not easy to deal with,” I shot Matt a rueful grin. “But Matt is usually able to make me feel better about the whole situation.”

Matt leaned back in his chair and blinked at me a couple of times before mouthing ‘love you’. The surprised tenderness on his face was heart-warming as I knew, and he knew, the media problem was driving me mad. I turned back to his parents and smiled defiantly at them both. Ha. Matt loved me. They could kiss my black ass.

“Yes, well, it will only get worse.” Portia said in warning as she spoke to Matt with a sternness only a mother could bestow on her child. Or an aunt on her niece. Auntie Cleo, why hadn’t she called? I knew she was furious with me but-

“Madison can handle it.” Matt reiterated firmly, breaking me from my thoughts. I smiled again and chewed my lobster.

Dinner progressed too slowly for my liking. It was strained and it got to the stage where I could only manage monosyllabic answers to the questions posed to me by Matt’s parents. Their polite interaction with me in front of Matt was grating on my nerves and I desperately wanted to shout out what hypocrites they were, but I held my tongue. Matt was also getting frustrated. I knew this from the small arch of his left eyebrow. And his frustration was being directed at me, it was obvious I didn’t want to be there.

“Please excuse me,” I said right before we chose dessert. “I’ll be back shortly.”

All three Bradleys nodded in acknowledgement as I quickly got up and went in search of the washrooms. Relieving my bladder was not a necessity, I just wanted 5 minutes away from that table and its occupants. How could they sit there and act so - so - so damned normal? This was what I despised the most about being with Matt. The duplicitous nature that seemed the norm with everyone I had encountered was wearing on me. I should have called them on it in front of Matt! I should have looked his parents in the eye and demanded an apology for what they’d said. I should…just grin and bear it. God, please show me how to make them like me. I pulled my cell out my clutch and called Dante.

“What’s up, sweet cheeks?” he said in lieu of hello.

“D, I’m at a stupid dinner with Matt and his parents. They don’t like me.”

“Ok,” Dante said.

“Ok?” I repeated in disbelief. The hell? “What do you mean ‘ok’? Aren’t you listening to me? His parents don’t like me. They think I’m just a-”

“Madi,” Dante interrupted. “You knew what you were getting into when you hooked up with him. Look, the man asked you to marry him. It’s clear he wants to be with you, forget about his parents. Why do you need everyone to adore you? You’ve been that way since we were kids.”

“Wow,” I muttered, glaring at my reflection. “Some best friend you are.”

Dante chuckled. “Suck it up, sweet cheeks. Go schmooze with some rich folks.”

“Dante,” I paused, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”

“Honestly?” he asked.

“Yes, you always tell it to me straight. Am I making a mistake?”

“I think you might be rushing into this. I mean, come on! You haven’t even reached the 12 months marker in your relationship. You had this massive blow out with your family and two minutes after that you’re engaged? That’s kind of…I just think you’re rushing it.”

“It wasn’t two minutes after.” I groused.

Dante sighed loudly. “You know what I mean. Look, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, ok? How about I stay over at yours tomorrow and we can talk about this properly?”

“Huh,” I scoffed. “You just want me to cook you dinner.”

“Damn straight. It’s been ages since you cooked for me,” he replied quickly.

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