The homeless girl and the CEO

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Chapter Seventy Nine

Leah's POV

Jordan tensed beside me, entwining our fingers tightly, as he heard, the mocking words that flew out the mouth of the woman, dressed in an all black ensemble, to a Sunday Brunch.

Meeting the angry glare of a woman in her late forties, I wondered if it's a favorite color of hers or is she sending me a message?

"Libby!" Jordan's grandfather and father hollowered simultaneously, at the blued eyed beauty, smiling mockingly at me.

"What?" She shrugs innocently, flickering her eyes between her husband, father-in-law and her son.

"Really mom?" Jade joins in snapping disapprovingly, at the woman, her mother.

Chuckling softly, "gosh, I would hope not" I responded lightly staring at my angry husband, whose glaring at his mother.

Stretching out a hand, "I'm Leah," I introduced myself politely.

Jordan's mother stared at my outstretched hand for a brief second then lifts her head to give her husband a challenging smirk.

"I agreed to attend the brunch." She says. "It's late and I'm hungry." She added, standing up.

"MOM!" Jordan finally spoke, raising his voice angrily. "Apologize now, or I wi..." I tugged at his arm roughly, to get his attention.

Shaking my head, "no Jordan. I didn't come here for this and neither did you." I told him, hopefully to help him remain calm and remind him of our agreement to not get riled up about anything his mother says or does.

Jordan silently ushered me to where an elderly woman, apparently in her sixties sits quietly with a light smirk on her lips, her eyes showing her amusement at what just transpired.

"Leah, this is my grandmother," Jordan says, bending to kiss her gently on the cheeks.

I smile politely at the woman, whose wearing a lime green tailored suit, complete with a multicolored, inner piece. She returned my polite smile, with a huge grin.

At least she's not mourning my marriage to Jordan.

Lifting both hands upwards, "it's so lovely to finally meet you," she smiles, palming my cheeks as I followed Jordan and bent to kiss her cheek.

"Same here," I responded. "I love your colors," I added not because I wanted to send a message to Jordan's mother but because this color gives her a radiant glow.

"I'm famished, let's eat," Jordan's grandmother chuckles, putting a hand out for Jordan's assistant.

Jordan didn't introduce me to his mother's guests but I still turned to acknowledge them politely only to see they already left, with Jordan's mother.

Taking a deep breath.

I can do this!

I've dined with snakes all around me before and this time, it's only four.

Happy, I hugged Jordan as we followed the others out of the day room and into a dining room.

Again I stood in awe, smiling and appreciating the work of art in the designing.

"You like it?" Still smiling, I nod when I saw Mr. Branson, Jordan's father, following my gaze around the room.

"It's beautiful," gazing at the oriental wooden work done along the walls and corners of the ceiling. "It's so detailed," I continued with my eyes upwards. "I believe it's telling a story." I chuckled nervously.

"Spoken like the daughter of a world class Architect." Jordan's grandfather laughs, from where he stood, helping his wife to sit at long wooden table, set to seat twelve.

Nodding, "yes, during high school I would remain at his office, doing my school work while he did what he does best." Remembering those days which I considered some of the happiest of my life.

Jordan escorts me to the table and thankfully I was placed between him and his grandmother but the girl, with his mother, sat opposite Jordan sending daggers at me.

The table was already laid with more food than we could consume but I am determined to sample everything, new.

"So your father's an Architect?" A strange voice asks from across the table.

Lifting my eyes, I met the the curious gaze of the man, I first saw at the business lunch.

Nodding, I smiled, surprised that he spoke to me. "Uh, yes." I answered self-consciously.

"Anyone I would know?" He probed. I saw no mockery in his eyes, just simple curiosity.

"Uh, Andrew Morrison?" I responded, actually feeling awkward because I was hoping, Jordan's mother and her guests, would avoid me at all costs.

His eyes light up in recognition, confirming he's heard the name before.

"Ah," he chuckles. "Brilliant man, excellent designer." He adds, turning his attention to the woman tugging at his arm.

Whatever he was going to add was lost but at least he didn't appear disgusted at my father's name, nor at me.

The conversation was light, while the mood of some were heavy but Jade's and Jordan's constant banter, kept us going and I only spoke when I was directly asked a question.

One thing I realize, they didn't bring up anything work related around the table.

Thankfully Jordan's grandmother spoke to me at intervals.

"This ring was made for you," she suddenly smiled at me.

Staring at her, I followed her gaze, that's resting on the wedding band, Jordan gave me.

"It's beautiful," I admitted and turned to her. "Do you know why Jordan wanted to give me this?" I asked.

Frowning, she shook her head.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jordan's grandfather listening keenly.

"Your marriage!" I retorted. "He admired your relationship over the years and wants the same for us, to overcome every difficulties life throw our way." I repeated the words Jordan said on our wedding night.

Leaning closer to me, "one of my secret ingredients, was not stifling him." She whispers, "give him some space, sometimes." Mrs. Branson chuckles.

"Tonight is sports with Vinnie and the boys."

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