Page 163 of Biggest Player
We thought it would be an ironic and fitting spot to meet her folks.
Margot is fussing with her hair, glancing nervously at her reflection in the window of the restaurant, tightening the sleek ponytail that she already tightened at least four times on the ride here.
“Mom, you look perfect.” Wyatt takes her hand. “Stop fussing.”
Honest to God, in the few short weeks we’ve been dating, I have grown to seriously respect that little shit. I have no idea how most kids are, but this one is intelligent as fuck and hilarious besides.
“Listen to Baby Yoda, Margot. She’s very wise.”
Wyatt giggles, pleased with the nickname.
She lets go of her mom’s hand, and I take it instead, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be fine.” I try to sound more confident than I’m starting to feel. “Your parents are going toloveme.”
She gives me a skeptical look as I pull open the door for them. “You don’t know my parents.”
Uh—what’s that supposed to mean? I don’t ask; instead I guide them into the lobby.
“No, but I know you,” I counter. “And if you love me, they’ll love me too.” Here I go boasting about things I know nothing about. Like meeting parents and blended families.
She takes a deep breath and nods. “You’re right, you’re right. They’re going to love you. After all, they never stop hounding me to date.”
Yeah. She’s told me all about how her mom is always trying to set her up with her friends’ divorced sons, or men she meets in the grocery store.
We walk into the restaurant, the familiar scent of Italian food wafting through the air. My stomach grumbles on cue as the hostess leads us to a table toward the back where Margot’s parents are already seated.
They stand as we approach, her father’s expression stern, her mother’s more curious.
They both give me a once-over.
“Mom, Dad, this is Dex,” Margot says, her voice slightly trembling. “Dex, these are my parents, Robert and Lydia.”
Robert is a tall dude with distinguished gray hair at the temples and an imposing presence. He extends his hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Dex.”
His grip is firm.
Super firm.
Wyatt hugs her grandpa while he’s shaking my hand, giggling the entire time.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I reply, our fists moving up and down, and I do my best not to wince at the strength of his handshake. What’s he trying to do, crush my palm?
Damn, Robert, relax.
Her mother, a petite woman with sparkling eyes, steps forward next to hug me.
“Please sit,” she says after giving me a squishy, warm hug. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Wyatt, Margot, and I take our seats at a big round table—not too far from the one I was at with Madisson and within earshot of the bathrooms. Ha!
“I hope she didn’t tell you the story about my agent.” I throw out a zinger, verbal diarrhea rearing its ugly head. Since when am I nervous around parents? Fuck. I told her they were going to love me, and here I am, talking out of my asshole.
Lydia tilts her head toward Margot. “I don’t recall a story about your agent.”
A foot nudges mine beneath the table to keep my mouth shut, and I do my best to look unfazed.
Once we’re settled, the waiter comes to take our drink orders. Margot’s parents order wine, but I stick with water, wanting to keep a clear head. The last thing I need is to spew more garbage about agents and fuckups since it looks as if that’s the path I’m veering down.
Margot squeezes my hand under the table.
