“Hold that until later; I don’t have much time.” He moved on to the next question on his mental list without waiting to hear more about her. “What do your parents do for a living?”
“They’re university educators.” She didn’t elaborate; this wasn’t about her parents. “Aren’t you going to ask what I do?”
John shrugged off her question. “I’m a good breadwinner, so you wouldn’t have to work.”
“But I enjoy working. I’m a?—”
“I know what your profile says,” he interrupted. “It also states you’re interested in marriage.” He leaned in, focusing on her with a laser-like gaze. “Is that still true?”
That was abrupt. She straightened in her seat. “Well, sure.When I find the right person.” Trying to dial down the intensity, she asked, “What do you like to do for fun?”
Ignoring her question, John doubled down. “Assuming we hit it off, how many children will you agree to have?”
“Wow, this escalated quickly,” Maileah replied with a nervous laugh. “Is this a coffee date or an interview for a baby-maker?” As soon as the words spilled from her lips, his expression turned stony.
“Just kidding,” she added, her cheeks burning with embarrassment—for which she immediately chastised herself. Why did men make her feel like this? He should apologize for his attitude.
John didn’t crack a smile. “It’s important to have discussions early in a relationship.”
That sounded exactly like her father, who could twist any situation with his maddening psychological mumbo-jumbo. Why did she keep attracting guys like this?
John tapped his fingers on the table to get her attention. “I said, how many children?”
She squirmed in her chair since he wasn’t backing off the question. “Two seems about right to me.”
An expression of disgust pulled down the corners of his mouth. “I would like at least five or six.”
“And I’d like a fleet of surrogates and nannies.” When he didn’t laugh, she sat back and folded her arms. This meetup was quickly turning into what felt like a business negotiation. And where was that caffeine she so desperately needed?
“That would not be acceptable to me.”
Maileah shot a nervous glance toward the beach, searching for Sailor. “You do know how old I am, right? That would be one a year, mate. Not sure we could squeeze them all in before menopause.”
She heaved a sigh. The server hadn’t brought coffee yet; it was far too early for child-count negotiations. She turned toward the beach, looking for her emotional support friend.Some people had dogs or cats, hamsters or pigs—she had a surfer in the friend zone.
Finally, a slight smile crossed John’s classic features. “You would have my full support. My older sister had children in her late forties. Nine in total before her hysterectomy.”
“How many of those were after the lobotomy?” Inwardly, Maileah winced. Why did she blurt out everything she was thinking? “Look, I’m sure the kids are great, and I have nothing against large families. But that would be a real stretch for me.” She paused, realizing what she’d said. “No pun intended.”
He didn’t seem to notice.
She slid a hand across her forehead, unsure which of them was worse. John with his unrealistic expectations and lack of humor, or her with her snarky comments. She couldn’t help it; the words just tumbled out. How would Junie handle this? She was always diplomatic. But then, Junie attracted the good ones.
Maileah, not so much.
Men like this is why she met her dates from the How About a Coffee app at the Majestic Hotel. With Junie, Whitley, and Sailor around, she felt protected.
When Sailor looked her way, she gave him a little signal, and he responded with a nod.
John frowned at the split-second Sailor drew her attention away. “Is that someone you know?”
From the corner of her eye, she spied Sailor walking toward them. She wouldn’t have to endure this much longer. Of course, she could walk out, but once a guy had grabbed her arm so tightly, she couldn’t extricate herself from his grip. That had caused a real scene. Her head throbbed at the memory.
“I know a lot of people here at the hotel,” she finally replied.
“Why is that?” John’s frown deepened. “You’re not a…” His voice was rich with insinuation, and his eyebrows shot up with expectation.
Suddenly, she grasped his meaning. “Get your mind out of the gutter. My sister works here.”
