Fake It Till You Bake It(81)

Jada gasped, slapping him on the arm. “What? You didn’t tell me! That’s great.”

He shrugged. “Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about me.”

“Which is very sweet, but unnecessary.”

Mrs. T nodded. “My granddaughter is right. We can celebrate more than one thing today. Now let’s get to eating. I can smell my favorites, and the food won’t eat itself.”

Jada’s parents exchanged a bemused look before leading the way to the formal dining room.



* * *



Jada was doing her best not to freak out, but having Donovan there was worth its weight in gold. He radiated calm.

She smiled at him as he held out her chair for her. He took the seat next to her, while her sister and grandmother sat across from them. Her parents sat at opposite ends of the table.

Grams was right about one thing. Her parents had spared no expense on the food. A veritable feast was spread across the table. Prime rib, roasted vegetables, garlic butter mushrooms, risotto, Cobb salad, and soft French bread. Truly all Grams’s favorites.

“Donovan, I’m sure you’re aware our daughter didn’t tell us you two were dating,” Walter said as the food circulated around the table.

Jada’s stomach cramped. What she wouldn’t give to be somewhere—anywhere—other than here.

“I’ve learned it’s best to leave the when and where to reveal that kind of info up to my partner,” Donovan said, clearly trying to be as diplomatic as possible. She should have known he would have the perfect answer. Her stomach settled the tiniest bit.

Her mom cleared her throat. “A very tactful answer. How did you two meet?”

Grams straightened in her seat and ensnared Jada’s gaze. “Yes, Jada, tell us how you met.”

Jada exchanged glances with Donovan. It was one thing to lie to her parents, which technically wasn’t good, she supposed. It was another thing to lie when her grandmother, who knew the truth and could blow their cover in a heartbeat, was sitting less than five feet away. She hadn’t thought this through, obviously.

Jada took a deep breath and basically blurted out the story she and Donovan had concocted.

“Is that so?” Grams said when Jada took a pause to catch her breath. Humor filled her voice.

“Yep,” Jada said without looking at her grandmother. She stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth. Hopefully, they could move on to some exciting research her sister and parents were working on. The latest happenings in the mayor’s office. The weather. Whatever.

Grams studied them over her wineglass. “Donovan, what did you think when you first saw my granddaughter?”

Jada forced the bread down a tight throat. She should have known better.

Donovan’s lips split into a wide grin. Jada’s breath caught. Damn, he was fine.

He looked her way. “She came into the shop in her heels and perfect, expensive outfit and perfect hair. I thought she was the bougiest person I’d ever seen in my life.”

“Hey!” Jada slapped him on the arm, while her family members laughed. He didn’t have to tell the whole truth.

“But then I really looked at her and thought she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.” He lifted her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her wrist, then the back of her hand. Her heart stuttered once, then twice, then sped up to twice its normal rate. What was he doing to her? “Ever since then, I’ve learned that her outside pales in comparison to her inside.”

“Well, well, well,” Grams murmured, shooting Jada an approving glance.

“Wow,” her sister said. “Be still, my heart. I wish someone would talk about me like that.”

Jada stared at Patrice in shock. Her genius sister was jealous of Jada? No way. Though they didn’t have an acrimonious relationship, they’d never been particularly close. They didn’t have much in common. Patrice had always been very studious and career-focused, her head buried in a book while Jada’s was stuck in the clouds.

Her parents said nothing, no doubt stunned into silence. They didn’t really deal in emotions or public displays of affection.

Her rumbling stomach relaxed. Grams clearly found the whole situation amusing, and if it wasn’t Jada’s life, she would think it was funny, too.

“Where did you attend school, Donovan?” her mom asked.

“UCLA.”

Her mom’s eyebrows lifted. “I see.”

Jada’s hand tightened on her wineglass. “Mom, UCLA is a perfectly respectable university.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t, dear.”

That tension headache that had started to creep up on her the closer they got to her parents’ house hit like a sledgehammer now.

Her father spoke up. “You went on a football scholarship, I assume, given that you are a professional football player?”

Donovan nodded. “I did, although I got my degree in business economics.”

“With all due respect to my in-laws, I’ve never been much into sports. I met Nina at the college library on a Saturday afternoon because it was the quietest place on campus.”

Donovan’s demeanor didn’t change. “Sports aren’t for everyone, but I’ve learned tons of life skills from playing organized sports, like problem-solving and teamwork.”