Scott watched Priscilla step out of the hallway and down the steps. His breath caught. He'd never seen her so... Formal. She looked beautiful as she walked down the steps to accept his hand.
"You look amazing," he told her.
He couldn't help looking at her coming down the steps, mesmerized by her. If she didn't capture anyone else's attention, she surely had his.
"Thank you." She smiled and accepted his arm, following him out to their ride.
Once they slid in, Scott rubbed her arm. "I have to warn you. There will be cameras."
"Cameras?"
"Yeah. You know like when cameras take pictures of your clients, there will be cameras."
She took a deep breath. She didn't like that idea. Just the thought of all those bright lights had her tummy knotting up. She wasn't made for the socialite life. Just the elite.
"You might've told me that before I agreed to be your date," she told him.
"It'll be quick, and then we'll be inside and you can get a drink."
"You are so lucky I'm already in this dress. Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"So I could get you to come," he said truthfully.
She blew out a breath, making the strand of her hair move. She moved to the other side of the car, but Scott pulled her back. "This is a part of what being my wife is going to be like," he told her. "I attend these events every few weeks."
"That's fine. The cameras part is what's not."
"Sorry."
"Yeah, I'm quite sure."
He rubbed her knee, and they didn't say anything else until they arrived. The flash of cameras immediately greeted the couple as they got out of the car. Scott kept his hand securely on Priscilla's back and led her inside, where they were greeted by a butler and champagne. Scott passed Priscilla a glass and led her to the ballroom.
"This is my childhood home," he told her.
Priscilla looked around and her brows came in. Her childhood home fit into this mansion a hundred times. There was priceless art hanging all over. She would never feel comfortable letting a child in here, better still actually raising one.
He led her to the main dining room where his mother was entertaining, and she came over to greet her son, pulling him out of Priscilla's grasp as she took him in her embrace. "Scotty, you made it," she said excitedly.
"I'm here," he told her, pulling back, taking Priscilla's hand. "Mama, this is Priscilla. My fiancée."
"Priscilla. I've heard so much about you," Hillary told her, smiling brightly. "It's so nice to finally meet you. — I understand you graduated from Yale?"
"I did."
"So you work?"
Scott noticed Arden. "We'll talk later, Ma." He leaned down to kiss her cheek and he took his fiancée over to his cousin to save her from his mother. He knew eventually the two would need to sit down, but he could stall.
"What was that?"
"Married women in the Nolan family don't tend to work." He took her to Arden who was standing with her husband. "Arden," he greeted his cousin, leaning down to kiss her cheek before shaking hands with Eli. Arden embraced Priscilla.
"I like your dress," Priscilla told Arden.
Arden glanced down at her dress as if she'd forgotten what she was wearing. The ruby gown was a strapless vintage piece borrowed from her mother's closet.
"Thank you, Priscilla. You look stunning in that sapphire," Arden said, standing back in awe at Priscilla's couture gown.
"You do look great, Priscilla," Eli added with a smile, as he took another sip of his drink.
"Thank you. Scott only told me blue. Imagine if I had showed up in royal blue!"
Arden gave Priscilla a forced grin as she caught a glimpse of her aunt, Hillary across the crowded ballroom. "I did that one year." She shook her head and sighed. "Wasn't pretty."
Priscilla threw Scott a glare and he raised his hands in surrender. "I wouldn't have let her chew you out," he promised. "I would have told her it was my fault."
Arden scoffed. "Nothing is ever her precious Scott's fault in Hillary's eyes." Arden rolled her eyes in the older woman's direction. "Besides, southern women don't 'chew you out.' They give you backhanded compliments followed by a 'bless your heart,' or 'well, aren't you sweet.' They curse you out with words sweeter than red Kool-aid."
Eli backed Arden's argument. "She's right. Learned that the hard way. For two years, I thought Hillary adored the crystal figurine I gave her one Christmas. Every time I came over, she'd mention it, pat my shoulder and tell me, bless his heart." Eli chuckled. "Then I overheard her telling one of the maids how tacky it is."
Priscilla didn't let her face give it away, but she was already realizing that she was dealing with a nightmare. She didn't want anything to do with this woman when she walked in. Now she especially didn't. What if that woman was somewhere talking about her right now?
"That's okay. I don't celebrate Christmas," Priscilla said with a smile.
Scott cleared his throat, and Priscilla looked at him. "We have to celebrate Christmas."
"Great."
In the middle of their somewhat awkward moment, a man and woman approached the foursome from behind. The slender woman tapped Arden on the shoulder. Arden and Eli turned to find Karma and Casper Callaghan standing behind them.
"Casper..." Arden began to stutter. "Karma. I didn't think you two would make it."
Karma beamed back at Arden. "Well, we were able to make some adjustments. So here we are." Karma's gaze drifted over to Scott. Target acquired. She extended her hand to him. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Karma Callaghan, assistant district attorney for Jefferson County." She pulled Casper to her side. "And this is my husband, Casper."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Scott Nolan, Sr. partner at Benjamin Law Firms in Phoenix." He shook her hand and put his arm back around Priscilla. "And this is my beautiful fiancée, Priscilla," he introduced.
Karma gave Priscilla a haughty nod. "I know who you are, Scott. Everyone in the greater Birmingham area knows all about Mr. Scott Nolan." Karma turned her attention to Priscilla again. "Priscilla, are you aware that your future husband is practically southern aristocracy?"
Priscilla smiled tightly and glanced over at Scott. "I was recently made ever aware," she said, her words dripping with the honey of sarcasm. Scott just rubbed her back. She did not do well in social settings.
"Well, I'm sure you're overjoyed to be joining such a prestigious family," Karma commented.
"We can say that," Priscilla said.
Done feigning interest in the pretty woman at Scott's side, Karma moved on to real business.
"Speaking of family, Scott. How's your father doing? I've been trying to get in touch with his office for weeks now."
"Is that so?" Scott asked, pulling Priscilla closer. He was going to go along and see where this led.
Karma opened her mouth to speak, but her husband interrupted. "Forgive her, Scott. Her all-consuming obsession with her career has rendered her completely unfit for social gatherings." Casper plastered a sarcastic grin on his face, while Karma glared at him.
Arden tried to cover the amusement that took over her face. But the more she tried not to smile, the worse it got. She took Eli's arm and started to lead him away from the group.
"Excuse us, but I think I just spotted someone wearing diamonds, and I want to get to them before Hillary does." Arden and Eli walked away, leaving Scott and Priscilla to deal with Karma and Casper.
"She's quite fine, Casper. I'm always interested to meet a woman interested in her career," Scott said, glancing over at Priscilla who tilted her head and smiled when he kissed her.
"He mostly means me," Priscilla said. "I passed the bar my first time." Priscilla was proud of her accomplishment, as well she should have been.
Karma nodded at Priscilla. That was an impressive achievement indeed, but she wasn't one to let an opportunity to one-up someone else pass.
"That is a difficult feat. Kudos, Priscilla." Karma shrugged. "I passed the bar on my first attempt as well. I'm also the youngest ADA in the state, and last year I was awarded the NAACP Spingarn Medal." She took a smug sip of her champagne. "It's the organization's highest honor."
Scott chuckled and Priscilla giggled, and Karma was confused. "Very honorable achievements," Scott told her.
Casper was amused by his wife as well.
"Did I miss something?" Karma asked.
Casper smiled at Karma. "Oh nothing, darling. Just about a million years of basic human evolution."
The embarrassment that lit up Karma's cheeks was priceless.
"You're funny, I like you," Scott decided, clapping Casper on the shoulder.
Casper shrugged. "I do my best." He shook Scott and Priscilla's hands, then took his wife's hand. "Come along, sweetheart. I don't think you've alienated that half of the room yet. — Have a good evening, Scott, Priscilla."
"Leaving so soon?" Scott asked.
He would talk to anyone to prevent Hillary from coming over and seeing him as open for conversation. Even career ladder climbing Karma. Anything was better than his mother looking down her nose at his fiancée.
"I think you two have had enough Karma for one night." Casper was in his element. He couldn't hide how much fun he was having throwing little barbs at Karma.
Karma pulled her hand away from Casper. "Why don't you find another corner to haunt, Casper?"
"I wouldn't leave these poor people alone with you." Casper chuckled. "If you're staying, then so am I."
Priscilla was honestly thankful the woman's husband was staying. She was making her feel possessive of Scott and like she needed to jump into his pants and claim him like a two year old child claims their toys.
Scott didn't mind one way or another. Casper was funny and his wife was entertaining. He could handle her on his own. But from the tenseness in Priscilla, she probably preferred not to have Karma around without her own husband.
"Then, dear, if you're going to be the so-called man at my side, at least contribute something intelligent to the conversation," Karma shot back at Casper.
Casper winked at Karma, and turned back to Scott. "So, Scott... Would you be interested in being another notch in my wife's belt on her mission to sleep her way to the top?" Casper smiled at Karma. "I'm going to make an intelligent guess and say no. That doesn't seem to be your cup of tea."
Karma glared at Casper, seething with anger. "I'm going to ignore that."
"Yes, because you're so good at that," Casper snapped back under his breath.
"I was wondering whether you were more hungry or thirsty," Priscilla said, taking a sip from her flute. "I suppose now I have my answer."
If Priscilla were any closer to Scott, she'd be in his flesh. She knew she was feeling some type of way about this woman. Well, she could forget it. Scott was her fiancé and she would be damned if some career ladder woman decided that she was going to sleep with him for clout. Scott was better than that.
"I'm both. Every truly successful person is." Karma stared down Priscilla. "You would know that, if you were as on top of your game as you claim to be."
Priscilla laughed. Karma clearly didn't understand that she was being insulted. She was rail thin, and she was also eyeing Scott like a prime rib. Whether Karma wanted him for personal or professional reasons, Priscilla didn't care. She couldn't have him.
"Darling, Priscilla is a young woman." Casper smiled at Priscilla. "Her beauty isn't waning like yours. She doesn't have to wear the overwhelming scent of desperation like you do."
"As they say in my office, you're only as fabulous as your next client," Priscilla said, toasting her glass with a brilliant smile. Karma wore a confused face. Scott leaned close.
"Entertainment law, not criminal," he explained.
Karma shrugged. "As if there's a difference between the two. At least when I win a case, a danger to society is taken off the street."
Casper cleared his throat. "And when is your trial date? I'd like to be a witness for the prosecution. I've seen your true character, and it is indeed a danger to society."
Priscilla tried so hard not to laugh, but Scott didn't care. "Mrs. Karma Callaghan. I think your name does ring a bell after all," he realized. "You're a mean one, aren't you? I think you put this one to shame." He nodded towards his fiancée. "Of course, I always thought she would be a force to be reckoned with in the legal justice system."
"From what I hear, the district attorney might be looking for a new ADA soon." Casper cut his eyes at Karma. "There might be some unwanted scandal around the office, and Birmingham has had its fill of filth. So Priscilla, you might have a new career option."
"This hick town cannot afford me," Priscilla said dryly, and Scott discreetly pinched her ass, causing her flinch mildly and her brows to come in. "I wouldn't work in this backwoods state," she continued, earning another pinch. But she was starting to like it and continued on. "I am so high class that I don't lower myself to common criminals. I charge 200 for an hour session of just looking over a contract. With what this state would want to pay me, I wouldn't be able to buy myself shoes for a week." She looked Karma's dress over and had another sip of her flute.
Scott shook his head. He and Priscilla were going to need to have the "this is my home" talk once again. Her digs at Karma, he didn't care about. Karma dug back. But her digs on his home was another thing.
"If money were my only goal, I would have flown this ass backward state a long time ago." Karma smirked. "Voters eat that crap up when a senatorial candidate has gotten her hands dirty for the common man... or woman as the case may be." Karma examined Priscilla as well, with a jealous gleam in her eyes.
"The last I was made aware, before you could practice criminal law for your own, you have to take the cases the state gives you. Don't pretend you're not defending the criminals because you don't want. It's just because you yet cannot make that profit leap."
"I think it's safe to call this round in favor of Priscilla," Casper said with a smile, as Karma stood with her jaw clenched. "Scott, Priscilla, it was certainly a pleasure." Casper reached for Karma's hand, but she jerked it away from him. She stomped away from the group. "I'd better catch up to her before she pulls an Angela Basset move on my car. Goodnight, and thanks."
"You all have a good evening," Scott called after him.
Just as Scott turned around, there was Marguerite. "Good evening, Scott," she greeted in a low, seductive tone, moving to hug him. He tactfully sidestepped the gesture. "Marguerite," he greeted with a smile, patting her shoulder. "This is my fiancée, Priscilla."
Marguerite looked Priscilla over for something to falsely compliment. But the woman was dazzling from head to toe. Not a strand of hair out of place. The dress fit her perfectly.
"It's nice to meet you," she lied. She turned to Scott. "I was just talking to Hillary, and she thought it would be great if we all got together Monday evening," she said with a smile.
"Priscilla and I have plans," he told her.
"Oh?"
This surprised Priscilla as well, but she went along with it. She didn't know where all these women were coming from, but she was not losing Scott to one of these backwoods hussies. She didn't care.
Scott, for his part, would rather subject Priscilla to Hillary than Marguerite any day. Anything was better than running into this woman who undoubtedly was ninety percent of his romantic history. He wanted to be somewhere else.
"Yes, we do."
"Maybe I could—"
"No, you can't, sorry. It's a really private party. You don't know the right people this time."
Marguerite just laughed lightly, resting her hand on Scott's arm. Priscilla removed it. "Let's get one thing straight, Backwoods Barbie, this is my man. Do not touch him, do not breathe his air, and do not look at him too hard. That little sweet Southern Belle thing is not going to work over here. He's spoken for."
Karma wanting to slut her way up the ladder through Scott was one thing, but Marguerite very clearly wanted him for something a little more personal.
"My, someone is a bit touchy."
"Yes, a little too touchy," Priscilla snarled.
"Possessive, are we?"
"Oh, we are. Hands off the merchandise, toots."
Marguerite giggled. "You know, Scott and I have a very long history. He's my very first love. And I'm his. You're just a temporary plaything. And once he's discarded you, honey, he's going to come right back to the hospitable south and right back to a real, homestyle, down home, cooking woman. You city girls don't know how to treat a man. All you're good for is a little fun in the sack. But they always come back to the proper ladies. Believe me, Priscilla. You're not the first good time he's had since he left home. But do note, he will come back."
Priscilla, for the first time in her life, did not have a comeback. Anything to say. For the first time in a long time, she chose to walk away. She did not want to be reminded that although he was her first lover, she was not his. And that did a little something.
Scott was right behind her as she went to look for a powder room. He could just kill Marguerite. "Priscilla," he called, pulling her by the elbow. He pulled her up a secret set of stairs and into a small room, closing the door behind himself. "Why did you let that get to you?"
"I don't know," she said truthfully. "I don't like her."
"And I don't like her either. She's not a threat, Priscilla. Believe me, I don't want to talk to her, about her, with her, near her, around her. Our agreement was to be monogamous. I've adhered to that all five years. If you trust me, believe that."
"It's not you. It's her. I don't like her."
"I don't either. Are you okay?"
"Do we have to stay?"
"Can you tough it out a couple more hours?"
"If I gouge her eyes out, you're bailing me out."
"I'm bailing you out," he promised with a smile, holding his hand out for hers.
The two proceeded back to the main dining room, and Scott led Priscilla over to his father. "Daddy, this is Priscilla. — Scilla, this is my father, Sebastian."
Sebastian extended his hand, and when Priscilla took it, he kissed it. "It's nice to finally meet you, Priscilla. You're a very beautiful woman."
"Thank you."
If it weren't for the gray littering Sebastian's otherwise black hair, Scott would look exactly like his father. And if Sebastian was any indicator of what Scott would look like in forty years, she had no complaints. He was a very handsome older man.
Hillary came back over, putting her arm around her husband's shoulder, but her eyes were focused on her son. "Marguerite told me that you have plans Monday."
"Yes, Ma. I do. And if I didn't, I wouldn't take Priscilla within a mile of her."
"We'll talk later, young man," she warned. Then she turned to Priscilla. "Where are you from, Priscilla?" she asked with her pearly smile.
"I'm from Phoenix."
"Oh? Where did you attend university?"
"I went to Yale," she told her, seeing the impressed look come over Hillary before it quickly disappeared.
"What's your family name?"
"Holcomb."
Hillary lit up for awhile. "Oh, are you related to Judge Royce Holcomb?"
"No. And I don't know him." Priscilla frowned. "My mother is a movie theater manager and my father is a sperm donor."
It was Hillary's turn to frown, and she looked over at Scott, but he didn't seem as surprised as his mother did. Nor did he seem bothered as she was.
"Oh... Yale, you say?"
"Yale. Class of 2007. I went to Wilde University Preparatory. I graduated summa cum laude and when I was sixteen."
The school was a boarding school for grades six through twelve. At the end of her fifth grade year, she had received a letter from the school, telling her she'd earned a scholarship. She had endured a lot of teasing from the snobbier kids for her being poor. She didn't have a lot of what the other kids had. But she started doing odd jobs and earning herself money.
"I'm friends with the dean there," Sebastian told her. "It's a very prestigious school."
"How did you afford it?"
Scott was actually surprised by the question. But Priscilla didn't seem bothered by it. She just put on her professional smile. But inside, she had already backhanded Hillary.
"Sometimes when a little girl is smart enough, she's willing to earn the way to her reach her destination. I worked my way through private school and I worked my way through the Ivy Leagues and I work my way through life. Everyone doesn't pop out of the womb with silver rattles and silk booties. A little hard work never hurt anyone, Mrs. Nolan," she said sweetly. "Did you know that when you're as smart as I am, schools want you so badly they practically throw the money at you?"
Scott and Sebastian exchanged looks. This didn't seem to be going very well. No one ever dished Hillary's treatment back to her. Priscilla had apparently not received the memo. Hillary was the queen around these parts, and she expected her subjects to bow down.
Hillary just smiled. "You appear to be a very brilliant young woman, Miss Holcomb. I'm very pleased to see that pretty little head of yours stores knowledge."
"Excuse me?" Priscilla had opened her mouth to say something else, and that was when Scott decided that he was going to take Priscilla to have something to eat, and she looked up at him. "I don't know who your mother thinks she is, but she is not going to talk to me like that. I am not one of these little hill billy bumpkins."
"She doesn't mean any harm. Don't take it personally."
"And when I go off on her city girl style, I'll make sure I tell her that I didn't mean any harm, not to take it personally. Make no mistakes, Scott. I worked my way into the top ten percent of income, but I'm still the me that grew up in the bottom twenty percent of income. And that means that I will forget to act like I have some class if she comes and talks to me stupid again. I'm not the rest of these women around here who seem not to know how to properly defend themselves from your mother talking a little shit. So before she runs into me again, you better tell her she got the wrong one."
Priscilla wished she never agreed to meet his mother. They had only had a few minor arguments in their five years dating. But she worried that Hillary was going to cause a huge blowup and a mess.
Scott sighed. He honestly hadn't expected his mom to make Priscilla have to talk to her like that. He had expected his mother to say a few stupid things, but he hadn't honestly expected her to throw the poverty that Priscilla grew up in back in her face.
He didn't need Priscilla to be a socialite. He just needed her to be her. He just needed her to be who she was and true to that. He liked the woman he had. He understood his mother wanting him to marry Marguerite, but he had tried that road too many times. The rest of his life was about his happiness. Not hers.
"Why is this even a thing?" she asked.
"Believe it or not, any money made tonight goes to American war veterans."
"At least it's for a good cause," she mumbled. "So exactly what Priscilla did your mother hear about? I'm assuming a different one than she met."
"No. She assumed you were born into a socialite family. I didn't lead her to believe that. What I told her was that I had met a brilliant woman. Which is true. I told her that most people think you're a stick in the mud, but you're fun off the clock. I told her that you were gorgeous. I told her you were no nonsense. And I told her that I wanted to marry you. That she assumed anything is not my fault, Priscilla. I told her about you. Y-O-U. And while I would love it for you and my mama to get along, I'm marrying you. She is not. You are more than enough for me."
"Yeah, well, Y-O-U better tell her I wouldn't care if she was Jesus' mama. Don't talk to me like that. When I snap, I snap."
Scott just led her to buy something to eat and took her to a small table. He could tell that tonight was under her skin. "We can leave in a little bit," he told her. His mother was going to have a conniption fit. But right now, that wasn't his concern. His concern was Priscilla.
"We can stay if you really want to," she told him.
He was surprised. He had expected her to say hell yes, let's go, but if she was going to stay, then he was going to stay and pray that Hillary went and found wherever the hell she had lost her manners.
After having their small meal, Scott asked Priscilla to come and dance with him. She gave him her hand and followed him to the ballroom, resting her hand on his shoulder, her head on his chest.
"When do you think you might be ready to plan a wedding?" he asked.
"I don't know. When do you think?" she asked.
It didn't matter to Priscilla. For all she cared, they could just go to the courthouse, sign the license, and find a house. To her, their marriage was not a big deal. The only thing that would change in her eyes was sharing a name, house, and assets.
Priscilla still believed they should have a prenup. Scott had a lot more to lose if things didn't work out. She wasn't likely to want his money if they divorced, though. She was too independent to want any spousal support. She made her own money for the purpose of never depending on a man.
She paid to maintain the lifestyle that she wanted. She paid to pop the bottles when she went to the clubs with her sisters. She paid to pop the tags on her designer shoes, clothes, and bags. She paid to drape herself in jewels. She paid to treat herself to a fresh mani/pedi every other week. She paid to drive that Ghost. She paid for what she wanted. And she liked it that way. She didn't have an issue spending Scott's money if he let her. But she made sure that she had the bank for what Priscilla wanted. She had learned that young. She wanted the lifestyle of the rich and fabulous, she made the money for the rich and the fabulous. She didn't let anyone make her believe she lived in excess. She had earned every penny of her money and had the right to spend it how she saw fit.
"I know long engagements are kind of the trendy thing. But I would prefer us to be married by the summer," he told her.
"That's fine. When, where, and how?"
"How about July? Right between our birthdays," he suggested.
"That works for me," she told him.
"Good. Then you can start planning."
"Who can do what?" she asked. "Scott, I have a job to do, just like you. I don't have the time to plan a wedding that you want to happen in a month. Why don't we just go to the courthouse?"
"I don't want to go to the courthouse. I want to have a wedding. Hire someone to do all the running around for you," he suggested. She rolled her eyes.
"Where are we having this wedding?"
"Would it bother you to have it here?"
"We're not living here," she told him.
She couldn't imagine having to live here. Not because of Homewood, but because of two of its occupants. She couldn't imagine retaining her composure if she often had to see Hillary and Marguerite. But especially Hillary.
"Of course not," Scott agreed. "Homewood is not the kind of place for you, Priscilla. You're more of a city girl. I understand that and I adore it."
"Good."
"Do you want to go on a honeymoon?"
She hadn't given that any thought. She had only taken a couple weeks off work her whole career. And that was for her twenty-fifth birthday when Phoebe had taken her to Kenya to celebrate. Otherwise, Priscilla didn't think of vacations much. She usually just took them during holidays when the office was closed. Sometimes with Scott, sometimes with her family, most times, alone.
"I don't know. Do you?"
"I think it'd be nice to have one. Maybe Japan. You can employ that Rosetta Stone lesson."
She laughed, attracting the attentions of a few other dancing couples. She had sworn that everyone needed to know an Asian language. Likely a dialect of Chinese or Japanese. She made Japanese her first choice and Korean her second. She had picked up a fair amount of proficiency, but she wouldn't claim to be fluent.
"You're a bit of an overachiever, no?" he asked.
"No. There's no such thing. I don't know about you, but I live in a world where a black man has to work twice as hard. Where a white woman has to work twice as hard. I'm a black woman. I need to work four times as hard. I'm going to make people respect my grind. I'm going to make them bow in awe of me. And when I leave, that little dash between 1985 and somewhere off in the future, there's going to be no shortage of accomplishments."
"What is that now? Summa cum laude of a prestigious East Coast private school, summa cum laude of Yale Law School at the tender age of twenty-one, highly sought after lawyer."
"I passed the bar my first time," she added.
"And who can forget something like that? And so highly too."
Scott had just barely passed, but he had. He had taken it again later for a better score just because he didn't come from a line of mediocrity. But Priscilla's score was as close to perfect as he'd ever seen.
"So Japan, yes?" he asked.
"Japan," she agreed.
"Good. We'll see if you know as much as you think."
"Scott, you totally heard me hold conversation with that pop star from Tokyo. — That's why you need to learn another language."
He chuckled. Priscilla was proficient in Japanese, working on Korean, and was fluent in Spanish. That helped her get a lot of cases. She could work with non-English speakers or English as a second language speakers who felt more comfortable using their native languages. Scott admired that about her. He was fluent in English and Patois and only because he had grown up with them. When he moved to Phoenix, he tried Rosetta Stone to pick up proficiency in Spanish, but he only cared to learn enough to get by.
"When we get back to the hotel, can I take your hair out of the combs and pins and all?" he asked.
"No. You said no sex today," she teased. He smiled, shaking his head.
"Yeah, no sex today. But I like touching your hair. Is that okay?"
"Why no sex?"
"I don't know if you knew this, but a man really can overwork his penis."
She smiled and tapped his lips, beginning to trace them with her fingers. "Oh, Scott, man of many talents. You have some of the most succulent, sexy lips a man could possess," she told him, moving her hand to hold his cheek. "And a very warm, thick tongue."
"And what if I don't want to?" he questioned. She pulled his face down.
"But you do."
He could taste her breath as she held his head, her eyes closing. Just before he moved to kiss her, a voice called to Scott, and Priscilla released a breath, low and irritated as she looked over at Hillary.
"What, Mama?" he asked.
"Your brothers are here, dear," she told him.
"Okay. I'll see them when I do," he told her, his tone almost dismissive. But she didn't leave.
"You're going to come for breakfast, right?"
"Mama, I said I would."
"Great."
Scott shook his head. "We can leave now," he told Priscilla, putting his arm around her waist, calling his driver. He didn't care about missing the rest of the events happening tonight.
Priscilla was relieved. She couldn't wait to disappear from this event. She just wanted to have Scott all to herself.