Lover (Court University 4)

“Nice to meet you, Ramses.” But then she said that, put out her hand, and once again, pretended nothing had gone down between us. She swallowed a little. “I’m Brielle, Bri.”

So this is the game we’re going to play?

Not surprising, considering this was her and had been her MO since I’d met her. Mom thought I was good at avoiding shit, but something told me my professor here could teach me more than a few things.

I simply stared at her, the hand between us. Bri urged me with her eyes to take it, and lucky for her, I had no desire to bring any more disappointment to my mother. I’d given her a boat load in the past few months.

I clasped Brielle’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Ramses.”

We shook on it, a slow shake with a bucketful of crap in it and unsaid words. What I wouldn’t give to high dive head first into Jersey girl’s mind right now.

At the present, I was forced to ease away from those thoughts, the shake over and both our hands returned. Between us, Mom sat like the friendly hostess she was, all this unbeknownst to her and lucky for it. Mom laced her fingers. “Bri teaches history at the university, honey.”

“Does she now,” I stated, gripping the back of my mom’s chair. “What do you teach, Brielle?”

Obviously, I was poking her, seeing what I could get out of her when she choked on the contents of her water glass. She just so happened to be taking a drink then, one that clearly came back up in her throat with the slight cough she allowed to escape.

She pressed a napkin to her lips, passing the whole thing off with her sultry smile. Or maybe, it was only sultry to me, this woman’s wiles not lost on me. She straightened. “Early western civilizations and ancient European,” she stated, manicured finger easing the neck of her dress away from her throat a little. “To name a couple.”

“Nice.”

“Aren’t you in a history class this semester, Ramses?” Mom worked around in her chair. She faced Brielle. “Ramses is a senior at Pembroke. His final semester.”

Brielle took that with another shot of water, but something told me we’d both need something a little stronger by the night’s end.

I smiled. “Uh, yeah, but I haven’t seen Bri.” I passed a glance her way. “Maybe that will change. It is a big school, but it’s possible.”

Bri touched a hand to her dress again. “Yes, maybe.”

A small smile before I pushed off mom’s chair. I jerked a thumb back. “I’ll run to the wine cellar. Get us something for dinner?”

Something told me Bri wouldn’t protest and didn’t as I left the room. Mom actually yelled at me to get a couple of bottles.

Here we go.

Chapter Ten

Ramses

The evening was filled with Bri and me, my mother between us as Bri pretended not to know me and I, once again, let her. I understood the game she was playing, that she hadn’t wanted to create tension between her and my mom, her friend. Since the woman who gave birth to me and I obviously got up to a little tension of our own only nanoseconds before, I readily endured the casual banter about work, school, and the like. Mom told Bri all about me, a proud mama, which wouldn’t have been so bad had I not, uh, well, fucked her friend. I guess she and Brielle had history from when Mom used to work at NYU. My mother had done a stint there for a few years while Dad had been extending his business out there. Mallick Enterprises was global, properties all over. Maywood Heights may have been home, where he’d gotten his start, but once he’d gotten a handle over the area he’d ventured out to some more lucrative areas. This put the Mallick name all over the globe and apparently, in New York during a time where my mother had been the professor of the woman I’d slept with.

Weird or fucking what?

That was thick between us, but I had to give it to Bri, she rolled with the punches. Like in class, she didn’t allow for a break in the conversation, a social butterfly with her laughter, her essence. I spent most of the time just looking at her over a dish of tamales she’d brought. She said her mom’s recipe.

My lovely Latina.

Damn had this woman gotten in my head, but with my mom between us, I wasn’t going to get to talk to her anytime soon. Not that Brielle allowed for absolutely any of that. She kept the party going, the conversation and wine flowing. I actually had to get a third bottle and figured, once dinner was over and dishes cleared, I might be able to sneak away and get a second to talk to her.

This appeared to come when dinner wrapped up, but once Mom made the call to get the dishes, Bri, of course, insisted on helping her with them.

Of course.

I started to help too, but that was when Bri suddenly needed to use the bathroom.

“Oh, down the hall, honey,” Mom said to her, grinning. “And Ramses and I have got all these. You’re the guest.”

I helped Mom with the dishes. Even doing one better by offering to load the dishwasher for her. This got me extra special brownie points and basically forgiveness from words earlier exchanged. My mom was nothing if not a sucker for helpful gestures from her kid.