50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

Chapter Fifty-Nine

    "...And then he said, 'What stapler?'"

    The dining room table erupted in laughter at Mrs. Richards's story. The dining room was a large room with cathedral ceilings, a beautiful cherrywood oak china cabinet, and a long, matching dining room table. Destiny and Aubrey were seated at one side. Destiny's uncle, Kevin and his wife sat on the opposite side. Destiny's parents sat at opposite ends of the table. Through the archway leading to the kitchen, Kevin's children were visible. They were seated at the kitchen table, temporarily dubbed "the kid's table."

    They'd held off on dinner for about an hour, awaiting the arrival of Kevin's wife, Tasha. When Tasha arrived, she'd brought their other two children with her. Sadie was the youngest, an adorable toddler, wearing a pink and purple jumper with her hair pulled up into a curly ponytail. Sadie had two older brothers, Deandre who was eight and Marcus who was twelve.

    "So...Aubrey, is it?" Tasha asked about halfway through the meal.

    "Yes," Aubrey confirmed, looking up from his plate.

    "How long have you and Destiny been dating?"

    Destiny forced a mouthful of mashed potatoes down her throat and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

    "I've had an interest in dating her since before she interviewed me for the article late last year," he responding, holding eye contact with Tasha. He looked amused. "But we started dating shortly after she graduated."

    "You two make an interesting couple," Tasha remarked. She had beautiful, dark brown skin, dark almond-shaped eyes, and full lips she'd applied crimson lipstick to. Her attire was chic: a black, loose-fitting top that complimented her petite build, tailored khaki slacks, and stylish black heels.

    "What makes us interesting?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

    "Destiny's a bit young," Tasha said. "Fresh out of college. You're this...very well-established businessman. How many years are there between you two? Ten?"

    Aubrey blinked and set down his fork.

    Kevin, medium brown-skinned with a faded haircut, cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his navy blue polo shirt. "Babe."

    "What?" Tasha asked, waving her fork in the air. "It's just a question, and I'm sure we were all thinking it."

    Aubrey smiled charmingly. "Not that it matters, but yes. Nearly ten years are between us."

    "I can't imagine what you two would have in common," Tasha said.

    "That's enough, Tasha," Destiny's mother chided.

    Tasha shrugged and returned her attention to her plate.

    Destiny looked up at Aubrey, hoping that he would just let the subject drop. But by the look in his eyes, she could tell that he wouldn't. He was still staring at Tasha. The expression on his face was calm, but by now she could tell when that calm had intensity buzzing beneath the surface.

    "You can't tell what we would have in common?" he repeated. "Similar tastes in literature and films? The common bond of both of us being writers? Which, in actuality, is more than enough to provide us with a strong connection. But we also have stimulating conversation about all sorts of topics. She's very knowledgeable in today's world of events, most likely attributed to her interest in journalism. She challenges me in a way that other women your age and over haven't yet accomplished. She's intelligent. She keeps me laughing. She takes care of me when I need it. She is more woman than a lot of self-proclaimed women these days. Age doesn't necessarily indicate a certain level of maturity. I'm surprised you don't know that by now."

    Tasha stared at him with an unreadable expression.

    An uncomfortable silence fell over the table.

    Aubrey's smile widened and he flashed two perfect rows of teeth. "Now mind you, I didn't give you this explanation because I felt a need to defend the relationship that I have with your niece. My hope is that this explanation helps to open your very closed mind in regards to how people relate to each other. Too often, focus is put on elements that don't matter. I love being around her. I take care of her. Both of those are mutual. I treat her well. Be sure of that. And to answer the question you have no doubt asked yourself, no I do not make a habit of targeting younger women. I typically date women that are older. But Destiny... is special." He cast a glance at Destiny's mother. "I'm sorry that you had to hear all of this."

    Destiny's mother shook her head. "No apologies necessary. I think you are a very well-spoken young man. I'm honored to have you seated at this table, and I am honored that you view our daughter so highly."

    "Tasha on the other hand, should be sitting at the kiddie table," Destiny's father muttered under his breath.

    Destiny turned her face into the sleeve of Aubrey's suit jacket to stifle her laughter.

    Aubrey laughed openly, and it was at this moment that he finally broke eye contact with Tasha so he could kiss the top of Destiny's head.

    After dinner, the family settled in the living room. The children sat on the floor, playing a board game while the adults sat on the couches and in the armchairs. Mr. Richards spoke passionately to Aubrey about a business idea he had, a non-profit for unemployed people with blue collar work experience.

    Destiny sat beside him, relieved that they'd gotten past the Tasha Inquisition. Even Tasha, who was known for being outspoken, had to respect Aubrey's response to her nosiness. Destiny could tell that her parents also had an entirely new level of respect for him.

    Realizing that his conversation with her father wasn't going to end any time soon, she kissed his cheek and slid down to the floor. She crawled over to her younger cousins, and the sensation of crawling triggered vivid memories. She arched a glance at him over her shoulder.

    Even though her father was talking to him, Aubrey had his eyes on her. His eyes burned with desire. His mouth lifted into a half-smile, because he knew what she was thinking. That smile and that fiery look in his dark eyes were his way of communicating that he was thinking the exact same thing.