Page 49 of Our Broken Pieces
I sit on the couch, Gigi standing before me. Fuck me, I knew the dress would look good on her, but her bright eyes and her sweet smile finish it off like I never would have imagined.
I lean back, taking her in. “Spin for me.”
She does as I ask, her curls moving around her shoulders. She has her hair pinned back on top, with her black ribbon in a bow. My body lights up with her small demonstration of obedience while my eyes move from the ribbon in her hair down to the heels on her feet. I’m hit with pride when she faces me again, wearing a wide smile and her eyes twinkling in the soft light of the living room.
“Very much the vision of wife material, princess.”
She smooths down the bottom of the dress. “Thank you again. I feel so pretty right now.”
“You should. You look wonderful.” For the first time I can remember, her cheeks go red. I stand and move toward her, taking her hand. “And I’m the one who should be saying thank you, Gigi.”
She gazes up at me. “You and I, we got this.”
My fingers can’t resist picking up one of her curls, twisting it in my fingers. “Yeah, we do.”
Gigi and I walk into Toscano ten minutes before our reservation time. After we’re seated at our table, I let out a long, tense puff of air.
“It’s all going to be okay, prince. Calm down.”
“I’m ready to get this over with.”
She nods toward the lobby. “They’re here.”
I look up and see my parents walking toward our table. I rise from my chair, and Gigi does the same.
“Son,” my father offers.
“Hey, Dad.” I turn toward my mom, who, unlike my father, is wearing a warm smile. “Mom.”
She hugs me. “Marcus, it’s so nice that you invited us out this evening.”
I see Gigi shifting on her feet beside me. “Mom, Dad, this is Gigi.”
Gigi extends her hand to my father. “Mr. and Mrs. Holt, so nice to see you again.”
My father’s eyes scan her and I think I see a hint of acceptance cross his face. “Gigi, nice to have you join us this evening.”
We all sit, and Gigi picks up her napkin from the table, placing it in her lap. She grins at my parents. The waiter interrupts our niceties and my father orders a bottle of red for the table.
“Marcus, did you get the numbers for Providence over to Silvia yesterday?”
“William, let’s visit, not talk about work,” my mother scolds.
“It’s okay, Mom.” I look at my father. “They were sent.”
“Good.” His focus turns to Gigi. “Gigi, tell me again what you do for work.”
“I own a skin spa. We’ve been open for six years now.”
He nods. “Being a business owner can be stressful, time consuming.”
“I have a good team. I mainly manage operations and only see a few select clients. I have a good work/life balance.”
The waiter returns, and my father tests the wine, giving them a nod of approval. “Enough balance for a husband and family?”
“Dad, we…”
Gigi places her hand on my arm. “It’s fine.” She looks at my father. “Plenty of time. I’ve trained my team to take over if there ever comes a time when I want to step back from being so hands on.”
