Stuck-Up Suit - Vi Keeland Page 0,67
hoping she doesn’t.”
Genevieve’s eyes narrowed on me. She was wearing a cream pants suit with a navy, silk camisole that was feminine, expensive and stylish, but certainly nothing you wouldn’t find on a dozen women in the Upper West Side at any time.
“This is a new class for her. She used to come on Tuesday nights while her father…” She realized what she had said and corrected herself. “While Liam went to the gym across the street. The last session ended a few weeks ago, and I thought it was best to switch to the weekend so she wouldn’t have to be reminded of the old routine.”
Graham nodded.
A pregnant woman came by. “You’re Chloe’s mom, right?”
“Yes.”
The woman’s hands had been folded on top of her enormous belly before she extended one to Genevieve. “I’m Anna’s mom, Catherine. Anna wouldn’t stop talking about Chloe last week after class. I thought maybe we could get the girls together sometime.”
“Sure. I’m certain Chloe would love that.”
Graham had been riveted to the glass, his eyes following Chloe’s every move, but he turned around to face Catherine.”
The woman smiled. “You must be Chloe’s dad. She’s the spitting image of you, isn’t she?”
Graham froze, staring at Genevieve.
Noncommittal, she introduced him. “Catherine, this is Graham Morgan.”
The woman extended her hand and looked to me since I was now facing her, too. “Are you the nanny?”
That snapped Graham out of it. He wrapped his hand around my waist possessively. “This is Soraya. My girlfriend.”
Graham didn’t notice, but Genevieve caught my eye, and hers sparkled with amusement. Bitch.
We slipped out before the class ended, not wanting Chloe to find us there, and told Genevieve we’d meet her at the restaurant.
Out on the street, the fresh air felt good. I could finally breathe better. “That woman does not like me.”
“She’s jealous of you. She’s always been insecure of her looks.”
“Her? She’s gorgeous.”
Graham stopped on the street. “She’s attractive, of course. But she’s ordinary. Unlike you.” He reached out and held my face with both hands. “You’re extraordinary.”
He was completely serious and the way he looked at me, the doubts that had again risen up inside of me were put to rest.
Chloe literally skipped into Serendipity 3 fifteen minutes later. She hadn’t changed out of her dance outfit, and it was impossible not to smile watching her. After a brief pause where Genevieve pointed to our table, she skipped the rest of the way to where we were seated. Graham stood.
“Chloe,” he nodded and smiled.
“Cracker.” She put all her weight behind her, reached back and slapped her hand into the air for Graham to high five. He was caught off guard, almost missing the hand connection. The exchange was comical. High-fiving was so…not Grahamly.
When he sat back down, I leaned in. “Cracker?”
He whispered back. “As in Graham. Apparently, I have a nickname.”
“What’s your name?” Chloe climbed up on her chair and kneeled. She was sitting directly across from me.
“My name is Soraya. It’s nice to meet you, Chloe.”
“Soraya?”
“That’s right.” First try.
“I love your hair. Mom, I want to do that to my hair.”
Genevieve picked up the menu. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you Graham’s wife?”
“No.”
“Are you his…”
Genevieve again interrupted her curious daughter. “Soraya is Graham’s friend, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you sit down on the chair properly?”
She shrugged. “But I like sitting on my knees. I can reach things better.”
“Sit. If you need something, and you can’t reach it, I’ll get it for you.”
Chloe pouted but planted her butt in the seat properly.
“Do you remember the time we came here after we landed the Donovan account?” Genevieve asked Graham.
“No.” His response was quick. It was clear he remembered but was trying to move her from the subject.
Lowering her eyes to the menu, Genevieve smiled broadly. “That’s too bad. But I’m sure you remember later that evening.”
“Cracker, what are you going to get?”
“I don’t know yet, Chloe. What are you going to get?”
She scrunched up her entire face and held her pointer finger to her nose in deep thought. “The iced hot chocolate.”
“I take it you’ve been here before?”
“I used to come every week after dance with my dad.” Chloe’s face faltered. She directed her next question to me. “Did you know my dad, too, Soraya?”
“Ummm…”
Graham rested his hand on my knee under the table and responded for me. “She didn’t get to meet your dad, Chloe.”
“You know what my dad would get every week?”
“What’s that?”
She wrinkled up her nose like something smelled. “Coffee.”
Graham set down his menu. He hadn’t even taken a