Presley had told me she was coming home with me. She hadn’t offered this time. She had all but said it was happening. She was wanting to come and act as my chosen mate. Do what she could to halt this arranged marriage that was looming. I knew she had heard every word that me and my mother had shared, and I knew she would have sensed my reaction. She knew me too well. But I do not want her feeling pressured to do this out of sympathy.
The irritating server was still batting her ridiculously long lashes at me like she had something in her eye. Did she think that was attractive or something? All she was doing was interrupting my conversation with my friend. Or my girlfriend as I had just stated. Something that appeared to have silenced Presley. Not an easy task by any means.
Presley was s
