A Rich Man's Baby Read Online Free Page B

staring at Terrance.
    It was very uncomfortable. My father was chewing fast and taking bites and just shaking his head. Terrance, unaffected, pulled out a box. He passed it across the table. I opened the brown box. It was a black leather Louis Vuitton briefcase.
    â€œVery nice,” my mother said, as I showcased my briefcase on the table.
    My father was not impressed and still gave Terrance a silent, evil stare.
    â€œThank you,” I said as I set it down next to me.
    After dinner, I said good-bye to my mother and sister while my father whispered something to Terrance in his ear.
    â€œWhat was my father saying?” I asked as we walked down the street toward Terrance’s Infiniti X35 SUV.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œYes, I’m sure. He just told me to call him,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. Our waiter came running out of the restaurant and said, “Miss, your box.”
    â€œThank you so very much,” I said as I looked over at Terrance. I knew he was going to say something.
    â€œHow do you leave a thousand-dollar briefcase on the table?”
    â€œI don’t know. You know I am forgetful at times.”
    Terrance was so disciplined and so was I at times. He wrote down his goal, wrote a plan of action, and got it done. He was quiet and reserved. I’m sure that was from growing up in a house with four women. He had three sisters, Tasha, Tamika, and Torey, and his mother, Felicia. Yes, his mother gave all her children first names beginning with T after their father, Tony. Terrance’s sisters all talked fast in these funny little Brooklyn accents. The first time they met me, they said, “Oh no, Terrance, where did you meet this girl? We don’t like her.” Right in front of my face. So I kept my distance from them. I didn’t understand them and they didn’t understand me. They all worked little jobs, didn’t have children, and still shared an apartment with their mother, and had the nerve not to like me and call me bougie.
    Terrance and I had been together for the last two and a half years. It was pretty serious. I met Terrance through his friend Darren. Darren was in a few of my classes and said he wanted to introduce me to his photographer friend. We met in person at Darren’s birthday party, exchanged numbers, and started hanging out on weekends. On our first date I informed him I could not date a starving artist, and he let me know that photography was just a hobby and he also had a degree in business from American University.
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    We entered our large two-bedroom apartment. There was a cream sofa and two black end tables filled with magazines in the shape of a fan. Terrance had black-and-white photos he had taken hung over the mantel. We had a small kitchen with a table for two. And our computer desk set up in the corner. When I moved in last month, we agreed only to keep three things from our apartments. Everything else went to the Salvation Army.
    â€œLook in the closet,” Terrance said with a big smile.
    I couldn’t imagine what could be inside. I kept my eyes closed and walked over. There were five suits and three pairs of shoes.
    â€œI want you to walk in that office like you already own it,” he said as he hugged me.
    â€œThat’s what I’m going to do, baby. How did you pull this off?” I asked. The suits were perfect. I was amazed that he got my style and size correct. The briefcase matched my shoes, and the suits were Tahari and Donna Karan.
    â€œI took one of your other suits to Bloomingdale’s, and you know what? I can’t take credit for it. The saleswoman put them together, so you have to go and thank her. I just paid for them.”
    â€œTerrance, this is so sweet. Thank you, baby,” I said as I turned to kiss him.
    My life was so good. I had so much to be happy about. I had a great man and was about to begin my dream career. After Terrance was asleep, I