Chapter 63
Leah
What should Leah Foster wear to impress her boyfriend’s mother? That’s the million–dollar question of today. It’s an important one, too, since I’ve never met Monica Sterle before. Caleb claims she is difficult, but I would like to decide that for myself and at least try to make a good first impression so she might not hate me.
My eyes jump from one piece of clothing to the other inside the closet. All of my dresses fit me since Caleb has made sure to remove every piece of clothing that doesn’t fit my pregnant body, but just as I’m about to choose a dress, I am overcome with a wave of anxiety.
It’s unexpected. Meeting your boyfriend’s mother is never as simple as a walk in the park. Yet, despite that, I wasn’t nervous about this meeting until I looked at my clothes selection. Now, while staring at the fabric, I’m experiencing a mini panic attack.
What if Caleb’s mother is one of those women who judge others based on what they are wearing? Fuck. Which one of these dresses is made of the best fabric?!
Each choice could be the wrong wire that sets off an explosion with my future mother–in–law. I’m scared to pick the wrong outfit, but not to the point I consider canceling the meeting. Nom braver than that and hastily grab a green dress that’s designed for expecting mothers.
I slip it on and mirror myself, happy
th the fit. Caleb seems to like it, too, as he comes up behind me and places his hands op my breast from behind before kissing my shoulder while swaying us slightly from side to side.
“Ready to go?”
A nervous smile touches my lips. “As ready as I will ever be.”
The ride to Monica’s estate takes about an hour. During that time, Caleb talks about his parents. His mother used to work as a lawyer but is now retired, and his father rarely shows up to share coffee with his son, resentful that his own father chose Caleb as the next CEO of Steele Enterprises
“So, what do you think?” Caleb asks as I step out of the car, my eyes immediately drawn to the large mansion.
“…err…” I don’t know what to say. Caleb and I have dated each other long enough that I knew he came from money, but although we live in a mansion far more luxurious than the one his parents own, I’m still blown away.
Growing up, my family didn’t have much money. I literally grew up in a house that was close to falling down, one of those that looked like it belonged in a horror movie. This makes me realize Caleb and I probably wouldn’t have ended up together if we had been the same age and gone to the same school. My man was probably popular and beautiful even back then, while I dressed poorly and looked like a dumpster rat.
In a way, our age difference might be a blessing since a younger Caleb definitely would have regarded me as a savage the moment he saw me at school wearing hand–me–downs. I mean, the man is older now and more mature, but he still has heart attacks whenever he sees me looking at flea markets.
Caleb glances down at me. “Before we walk inside, I need to warn you not to be intimidated by the eighteen–foot ceilings and the old paintings decorating the walls–they are impressive but not to be feared.”
I follow his shoulders to the door, where a doorman bows and opens it for us.
The mansion is impressive. The foyer, as it turns out, is as large as my parent’s master bedroom. If I look out through the
19:03 Sat, Feb 1 B
Chapter 63
windows, I can see the ocean. It makes me stop and stare…until Caleb clears his throat and reminds me that we are here on a mission: to meet his mother.
“The coffee room is down this way,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder as if not trusting me to follow him.
Since I’m smart enough to realize I’m just as easily distracted as kid at the funfair, I let Caleb guide me. It doesn’t take long until we reach a set of double doors, which Caleb pushes opens to reveal an elegant sitting room.
Seated on a plush velvet, Chesterfield is a severe, tall–looking woman with Caleb’s striking blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. Her gray hair is cut short, and although her face has wrinkles, he makeup hides her actual age.
I’m officially intimidated, but the same can’t be said for Caleb’s mother. She rises confidently as we enter, her gaze assessing me critically from head to toe without a hint of a smile. I resist the urge to fidget under her penetrating stare. It’s hard since I’ve met hungry lions at the zoo that weren’t close to being this intense.
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Leah Foster, my fiancée, Caleb says He sounds calm, but his digits pressing into my skin in a way that will leave marks tell a different story. “Leah, this is my mother, Monica Steele.”
I try to push aside my fear despite knowing that even Caleb is on his toes. Be brave, I tell myself and step forward with my most winning smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Steele,” I say and extend my hand.
Monica doesn’t take it.
– She wrinkles her nose at my hand, looking as if I’ve offered her to pet a snake. “So, this is the woman carrying my
grandchildren?” Her tone is frosty, and I fight the instinct to hide behind Caleb when her gaze lands on my large belly.
I lower my hand awkwardly, swallowing back the lump that’s been growing like a weed in my throat. “Yes, Mrs. Steele. Caleb and I are expecting twins.”
“Hmm. Monica’s lips purse into a thin line. “And what exactly do you do for a living, Miss Foster? Besides ensnaring wealthy men and getting pregnant, that is.”
My mouth falls open at Monica’s cruel insinuation. I can feel Caleb tense beside me, his fingers practically sinking further into my skin by the second.
“Mother, that’s uncalled for,” he says tightly. “Leah is a talented writer and a university student. She’s not after my money”
Monica arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “A writer, you say?” her eyes rake me up and down before a cruel smile curls her red–painted lips, “And how much does this writing pay, exactly? Enough to afford the designer dress you’re wearing?”
Her words cut deep. I look down at my dress, suddenly conscious of what I’m wearing. Yes, Caleb bought the dress for me, but not because I asked. He loves spoiling me, even when I protest. I also had no clothes that fit my pregnant body, and he wanted to cheer me up after I received all of those hateful comments online. So, here I am, wearing the cheering–up gift my soon–to–be–husband gave me. There’s no shame in that.
I raise my chin, trying not to show this woman the sting of her barbs. “I am not with Caleb for his money, Mrs. Steele. I love him for who he is, not what he can buy me. And my writing may not make me rich yet, but I put my heart into very word. It’s my passion.”
Monica makes a face behind the rim of her coffee cup. “Passion does not pay the bills, sweetie. And neither does it make you an appropriate wife for my son. Caleb needs substance beside him, not a dreamer.”
Caleb’s jaw clenches, and I can almost feel the anger oozing out from every pore on his muscled body. “Leah has more substance in her pinky finger than most people have in their entire body,” he grits out.
19:03 Sat, 1-00 1
Chapter 653
70%
“And you know this because?
“Because I’ve dated plenty of women before her,” Caleb isn’t ashamed to admit what a player he used to be in his youth. I’m not jealous either. I’m actually surprisingly calm even as he looks at me, “And you, Leah, is the most impressive woman that I’ve ever met. You surprise me at every turn and make me laugh. No other woman has managed to do that. Therefore, I consider myself the luckiest man to have found you.”
Caleb smiles at me, something which makes his mother roll her yes.
“Oh please, this won’t last. How old is she? Twenty?”
I wet my lips. “Nineteen.”
She snorts. “My point exactly!” Monica looks at her son. “She is way too young for you, my son. I get that you have money. but what happens after you’re married? What if she runs away with half of it? Your looks won’t stay with you forever, and once you’re old and frail, this…writer will divorce your ass.”
Caleb opens his mouth, but I raise my hand to silence him. I’ve had enough of being talked to as if I’m not here, and this time, I’m not afraid to meet Monica’s icy glare head–on. “Mrs. Steele, I understand your misgivings regarding me. But let me assure you, I love your son, and we are more than lovers. Besides he was my
I meet Monica’s icy gaze head–on. “Mrs. Steele, I understand your reservations about me. But I want you to know that my love for Caleb is genuine. Also, he was my-”
“Boss before he became your lover?” she interrupts, to which I blush. I was going to say best friend, but whatever. She isn’t
wrong.
“Y–yes,” I clear my throat. “And now we are about to become parents.”
I place my hand on my belly. “And these babies, your grandchildren, were conceived in love. They are already so cherished by us both. I hope, in time, you can come to see that and perhaps even be a part of their lives.”
Monica’s eyes narrow at my words, but I swear I see a flicker of something in their blue depths. Surprise? Grudging respect? It’s hard to tell.
“Pretty words, Miss Foster,” she says coolly. “But words are cheap. It will take more than that to convince me of your suitability for my son.”
Caleb looks ready to explode at her continued dismissal, but I squeeze his hand, silently asking him to let me handle this. He subsides with a clenched jaw.
“I understand,” I say evenly to Monica. “And I’m willing to prove myself, not just with words but with actions. All I ask is that you give me a chance.”
A tense silence stretches between us as Monica considers my appeal. Finally, she gives a curt nod. “Very well. You may join us for dinner. I have more questions for you, and I expect you to answer them all.
