“By the way, I think she’s pregnant,” Sunshine says. “She’s not drinking anything. I even offered her some Dom.” She lifts the bottle.
“Are you getting hitched?” Mellie says, her eyes wide. “I want an invite.”
“Um…” Okay, I should’ve met his family at a smaller gathering. Like a private dinner.
“I’m trying to convince her,” Emmett says with a wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to see if we can find my parents.”
“Oh, I saw your mom over there.” Sunshine gestures toward the other side of the pool where people are gathered with drinks.
Emmett thanks her and links his fingers through mine. I look back at George, who’s hanging back by the buffet.
“Shouldn’t we do something about the kid?” I ask.
“No. His mom will flip out and make a scene if anybody tries to intervene. She calls it meddling, and it’s best for George if we leave him alone.”
That poor child! “Is she an actress?”
Emmett shakes his head. “She works with actors to help with their speech—mainly accents. Some other stuff, too, but she prefers to work on movie sets. More prestige and glamour.”
“Isn’t there a space for kids? Away from all the, you know…dicks?”
A corner of Emmett’s mouth quirks upward. “A space for kids? Not really on the priority list here. But George is used to it. He gets really uncomfortable when you try to move him elsewhere. He likes to think he’s a mature individual.”
“Did your dad know about the kid coming?” I can’t imagine his father being okay with this. If this were my dad’s party—although I can’t imagine him throwing anything like this—he’d make sure there was something age-appropriate for children.
Emmett’s eyebrows dip in disapproval. Is he upset I’m asking too many questions about George? I just met him, but I can’t seem to shrug him off like others. What about our baby? I don’t want our child to be subjected to dick arches and genitalia balloons and so on when he visits his grandfather. The other option is to get together someplace neutral, but that doesn’t seem right, either. They’re going to feel left out if they aren’t invited to celebrate their granddad’s birthdays and so on.
Finally, Emmett sighs. “Yes. But he doesn’t stop George’s mom from bringing him.”
Before I can ask another question, a tall, lithe brunette in an ivory bikini and translucent azure beach kimono comes over. She’s stunning, her facial features delicate and carefully sculpted, the long, dark hair framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. Her skin is smooth, her body firm and lean enough to grace a magazine cover, but there’s a maturity about her that says she isn’t one of those young, desperate-to-break-into-movie-business women. Something about her feels familiar, although I don’t remember seeing her in any movies, TV shows or magazines—not that I have a ton of time to look at those.
Emmett’s face splits into a brilliant smile. “Mom!”
That’s his mother? I blink and look again. Only then do I realize she’s the same person I saw in some of the photos at Emmett’s home. She looks even younger in person. Shocking, since most use camera filters to take years off their age.
“Baby! I missed you so much.” Wrapping her slim arms around him, she kisses him on both cheeks.
“You look good,” he says with a laugh.
“Thanks to you. The cruise was amazing.”
“Mom, meet Amy Sand, my girlfriend. Amy, this is my mother.”
“Ma’am,” I say, extending my hand.
Instead of taking my hand, she pulls me in for air kisses. “Oh, please. Call me Emma. ‘Ma’am’ makes me sound so old.”
“Of course. Emma.” I smile, somewhat relieved she seems warm and friendly. And normal.
She gives me a quick once-over. Nothing overt or rude, but more like innocent curiosity over her son’s date.
“I can’t believe Emmett hasn’t said anything, not that we get to speak much,” she says. “How did you meet?”
“We work together,” Emmett says.
Emma raises her eyebrows as she regards me. “Oh! Then you must be smart.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I say. “But thank you.”