Demi saw the amazement and awe in his gaze as he smiled, "Is there anything this magnificent in Paris?"
Then, he turned to her.
If it was possible, Andre's gaze's awe, adoration and amazement increased by a magnitude as he removed a curl from her vi...
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"Screw Alexandre Laurent! I can't believe him!" Demi fumed the next day. Lulu scrolled on the business desktop, rolling her brown eyes as she mused sarcastically.
The both of them and Jazmin were in the Coker's fourth bedroom, the one being used as the headquarters for their 6-figure business. The room had a neon sign that read 'Babe with Melanin', with three sides of the room covered in storage space, a neat Macbook computer on a desk and a fluffy couch.
"Yeah, screw him for telling you what we have been telling you for three years. Boo hoo,"
Demi flashed her twin sister a dirty look and threw herself against the fluffy chair dramatically. Peering at the two of them under their glasses, Jazmin sighed over their homework. "In all retrospect, Andre did have a point,"
Demi snapped angrily, "No, he doesn't. No one has a right to question me about my feelings, Jaz."
With widened eyes, Jazmin turned back to their homework, muttering under their breath. Demi felt Lulu's gaze on the side of her face and refused to look up from the floor in utter frustration. Damn him, with his stupid green eyes and messy brown hair and his foolish abs. Damn him for making her question her stupid feelings.
Actually not damn. But fuck Andre Laurent.
I'm sure you would love that though, the hoe in her retorted with a mental smirk. Ugh, she was turning into Lulu.
"If you care so much," Lulu inquired as she packaged orders for the hair, clothing and cosmetic small business that the three Cokers ran called The Melanin Babe, "Why don't you tell him?"
"I can't tell him. That's insane. That's like admitting that his French ass is right," retorted Demi as she got ready to custom design an Air Force Ones for a customer's order. She got out her paint, tape and a brand new pair of Air Forces. Lulu rolled her eyes and continued pushing lipgloss into a tube, just as her mother rolled in a new shipment of clothes to organize.
"What are you talking about? French what?" Her mother asked, lash extensions fluttering as she put her lace front wig in a low ponytail out of her way. Demi was about to answer when Lulu spoke up.
"Demi is talking about Rio again," Lulu tattled, not even looking up from her tedious duty of preparing tubes and bottles of cosmetics. Demi rolled her eyes and flipped her off behind her mother's gaze.
Her mother's lips pursed as she regarded her youngest daughter with laser-sharp vision, bluntly inquiring, "Abidemi Diana Coker, I hope you are not talking about a boy with a girlfriend?"
Demi bit her lip, about to argue when the doorbell rang sharply. She got up in a hurry as a way to avoid the harsh confrontation her mother would have proudly dished out at her actions. When she opened the front door, she looked up to see Rio standing with chocolate ice cream, a bag of steaming Panda Express and Call of Duty.
