Always Wrong - Xyla Turner Page 0,26
like as we ripped out the pages of how we wanted it to be and what that entailed. Jacquez took notes in his little black book with people to call and the types of home designers we needed to get. Apparently, he felt like I was just as much of a bachelorette as he was a bachelor, so we’d need some help with having our house look like a home for our child.
This was a good point, because I knew nothing about décor or feng shui. Were the walls and baseboards clean? Okay, then I was good.
Jacquez thought that was funny.
By Sunday, we’d already had sex in every room again, but we were wrapping up all the loose ends for our next steps, including the dates we planned to travel to see each other. We met with the contractor, checked out some neighborhoods and narrowed them down to three areas within the Philadelphia region. Jacques and I were so caught up, he forgot about the visiting his mother, but sent her some flowers and her favorite cannoli.
Jacquez Costa
By the time Phil dropped me off at the airport, Sheryl wasn’t as guarded as my last visit. Therefore, I chalked that up as progress. Before I left, I pulled her into me, since she was standing outside the car, and nipped her ear.
“See you in a couple of weeks.” I squeezed her arse. “Have Tammy send your itinerary for your flight.”
“Sure.” She smirked back at me. “Safe travels.”
“Yeah. Thanks for hosting this weekend. I can’t wait to host you next.” I gave her a quick pat on the butt and then proceeded to go to my jet. She watched until I turned around before dipping my head to get in, then she climbed in the back seat, and Phil took off.
To say that the next two weeks were not Sheryl-free of my mind would be a lie. She was present and therefore had me texting a few times and even calling to see how she was doing. The first phone call was a bit awkward, but it bloody beat agonizing over what she was doing and who she was with. Though it was likely her friend, Maxine, who was back from her honeymoon.
The second call was less awkward, because I focused it on us discussing our parenting styles by answering questions, which we both stumbled over.
Were we either of the following four:
Authoritarian or disciplinarian, permissive or indulgent, uninvolved or authoritative. It was clear that I would probably be authoritative, but some mates of mine shared that once you have children, everything changes. Especially a little girl and their fathers.
Keeping with that same mindset, the next day we FaceTimed to discuss the house we were going to buy in the suburbs. The following day, I sent her some listings of homes in London so she had an idea of what I was looking for. Each day following up until she came to visit me, we talked about our co-habitation, reviewed what we liked, and took online quizzes and personality tests so we could share and see the best way to live together. Hell, my secretary joined the cause, once I explained without details, and had us doing the strengths finders assessment so we could evaluate both of our strengths. The kicker was that we were both achievers and liked to command. We veered with me being analytical and she had competition. Those were our top three, which meant that we would likely bump heads. What it also told me was that, thus far I had been leading, but more importantly, she was allowing me to do so.
A leader cannot lead if no one follows. I might be the one to take action, but if there is no one willing to go with me, then everything would be for naught.
The fact that Sheryl was willing to do this with me and inconvenience her life brought a greater awareness by the time she came to visit.
Maybe a bloke was feeling a bit vulnerable or just bloody honored, but when she touched down on the tarmac and descended from her jet, I pulled her into me and kissed her hard. It was one of desperation and dare I say, need. The two of us had been talking every day, and the bond between us was growing stronger. This would be great for our child. They would know what a loving home should be, so we were on the right track.
After Mateo was killed in the streets,