Page 49 of Endlessly Raphael
I turn and focus on Rapha’s gorgeous face. His gaze is serene but somehow intense at the same time, and the longer I look, the calmer I feel. Damn, this man is good for me.
“I’m ready.”
He smiles. “Good. Let’s go in.”
Once I’m out of the car, I straighten my suit and walk around to meet Rapha. He offers his hand before kissing my temple. A sense of overwhelming confidence I didn’t feel before spreads through me, so I hold my head high as we approach the front door.
I ring the bell, which is weird, but then, I haven’t been here since I was asked to leave. The door opens and my mother is there, looking glamorous and beautiful as always with her black hair flowing over her shoulders, a pretty pink dress on, and the loving green eyes I still see in my dreams.
“Haven.” She opens her arms and I step into them, soaking in the warmth only a mother’s hug can provide. When I step back, she keeps her hands on my shoulders, taking me in. “You look wonderful. Happy.”
“I am happy. This is Raphael.”
Her eyes shift to the man beside me, who bows his head slightly before taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Samir.”
My mother actually looks flustered as her smile grows. “Well, hello. What a charming gentleman. Come in.” He has my mother in the palm of his hand, at least.
Raphael touches my lower back to guide me in. Once we’re past the foyer, Raphael takes my hand in his again, which steadies me even more. I got this.
In the dining room, everyone stops talking and turns their attention to us. My aunts, uncles, and a couple of cousins are here, and at the head of the massive wood table is my father. He doesn’t even bother to stand.
“Everyone,” my mother says. “Please welcome Raphael to our home.”
He’s met with a barrage of greetings, names, and relationships to me as we take the two empty seats at the end of the table. Raphael keeps his hand firmly wrapped around mine.
“What are you drinking, Raphael?” my uncle Ali asks.
“Wine if you have it. Water if you don’t.”
“Wine it is,” Ali says, lifting a carafe and filling both our glasses.
Then everyone settles down, creating an awkward silence. Without words, my father commands the room.
“How did you meet?” he asks, eyes narrowed.
“At a nightclub,” Raphael answers easily, smiling at my cousin Julia as she passes him a plate of appetizers. He puts an assortment on his plate, then gazes up at my father, waiting for more questions.
“Figures,” my father says.
“Yes, it does,” Rapha answers without missing a beat. “That’s where a lot of young people meet. Even in a room filled with hundreds of people, there was no ignoring Haven. We were drawn to each other like magnets.”
“Mm. Was that before or after you learned of his inheritance?”
Rolling my eyes, I huff, about to say something, but Rapha pats my thigh under the table.
“How would I have known that upon first sight, Mr. Samir?”
“Maybe you figured it out quickly enough and decided to stick around.”
Rapha sips his wine, then smiles in such a condescending way I can actually see my father shrink. Fucking amazing.
“I don’t think this is the right setting for me to tell you all the ways Haven enraptured me, nor do I think it’s required. You’re allowed to form your own opinion.” He smiles at me. “Besides, I don’t need Haven’s money. I have plenty of my own.”
My family is literally speechless as they all turn to my father to see his reaction.
After he composes himself, he spits out, “I am still his father. In my country a man should ask the father for his child’s hand.”
“Your country is America,” I say with a huff. “Besides, pretty sure you told me I was ‘no son of yours’ when you threw me out.”