The Kiss Quotient (The Kiss Quotient 1)

Might as well finish all of it. Maybe he could give his mom more time off this week.

He started to sew.

{ CHAP+ER }

26

Later that week, Sophie manned the shop and watched Ngo?i while Michael took M? to the doctor for her monthly checkup and bloodwork. It was a short drive, but it felt like forever with his mom crossing her arms and boring holes into the side of his head with her eyes. He cranked the music volume up and focused on the road.

She turned the radio off. “I can’t take it anymore. You walk around all day like a cat who’s lost his mouse. You don’t talk. You scare the customers. And you’re working like you’re dying. Michael, tell M? what’s going on.”

He tightened his grip on the leather steering wheel. “Nothing’s going on.”

“How is Stella? Tell her to come on Saturday. Grapefruit was on sale, so we have a lot.”

He said nothing.

“M? is not stupid, you know. Did you break up with these people’s daughter?”

“Why are you so sure it wasn’t the other way around?” Stella would have done it eventually. When she decided she’d practiced enough.

“Clear as day, she’s passionate for you. She would never do that.”

He clenched his jaw against a fresh surge of unwelcome feeling. Stella had liked him well enough, but the only place she’d been “passionate” for him had been in bed.

“I met her parents, M?.”

“Oh? Were they nice people?”

“Her dad didn’t think I was good enough,” he said with a bitter twist of his lips.

“Of course, he didn’t.”

Michael snapped his attention from the road to his mom’s profile. “What do you mean ‘of course, he didn’t?’” He was her only son. She never talked about him like this.

“You’re too proud, just like your dad. You have to be understanding. He only wants what’s best for his daughter. She’s his only child, right? What do you think it was like when I married your dad?”

“Grandma and Grandpa love you.”

“They do. Now. They didn’t approve of me at first. Why would they want him marrying a Vietnamese girl with only an eighth-grade education who barely spoke English? They refused to come to the wedding until your dad threatened to cut ties with them. I had to work to convince them. It didn’t happen overnight. But it was worth it.”

“I didn’t know that . . .” It made him look at his grandparents in a new, rather unfavorable light.

“When you love someone, Michael, you fight for them in every way you know how. If you put your mind to it, her dad will come to like you. If you treat his daughter right, he’ll love you.”

“I think it would be very selfish of me to fight for her. There are men who are better suited to her. They’re richer, more educated, and more . . .” His words trailed off as she slowly turned to face him, her eyes narrowed in a ball-shriveling stare.

“You sound just like your dad. If you can’t stand being with a woman who’s more successful than you, then leave her alone. She’s better off without you. If you actually love her, then know the value of that love and make it a promise. That is the only thing she needs from you.”

“You think I’m like Dad? You think I’d do what he did?” His mom’s words submerged him in frigid water and stopped his lungs. Fuck, his own mom thought—

“You would never do that,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “He has no heart. You do, and it steers you in the right direction. But you think you need to be best and do everything yourself. You and your dad both have that problem.”

“No, I don’t—”

“Then why are you still working at the shop? And why did you do all my sewing? You think this old woman can’t sew a straight line?” she asked in exasperation.

“No, I—”