Page 22 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

AIMEE

A imee sits in the back of the car Patrick sent for her and waits for him and Courtney.

It’s mid-May, and that means it’s time for San Fran Rom Fan Con.

And it’s time for Aimee to finally meet Courtney.

She stays with her mom in their new house and spends almost every weekend with Patrick.

While things have been going well for the two of them, Patrick wanted to be cautious about Courtney and Aimee’s introduction.

Especially considering how Courtney found out about Aimee.

I know I shouldn’t judge, but what kind of a mother talks shit about her ex’s new girlfriend within earshot of her kid ? Knowing the kid hasn’t met the person, yet .

Aimee can only imagine what Courtney heard her mother say about her.

The kid probably hates me already. Yeah, she and her mom aren’t close but that’s still her mom. Courtney may not dislike me, but she surely has some misinformed notions about me .

Patrick walks out with two carry-on bags and a foldable rolling tote bag, no doubt for all the books and swag Courtney plans to get. Aimee gets out of the car and greets him with a juicy kiss.

“Mmm, that was nice. Give me another before the kid comes.”

“I’m already here, daddy,” Courtney says behind him.

She and Aimee make eye contact. Aimee smiles, and Courtney smiles back shyly. She comes from behind her father and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Courtney.”

“Hi, Courtney. I’m Aimee.”

“This is nice,” Patrick says.

He has the jitters again .

Aimee titters at Patrick.

“Are you laughing at me, baby?” Patrick asks.

“Yes, I am,” Aimee teases. “Your tells for when you’re nervous haven’t changed since we were kids.”

“I could never get anything passed you.” Patrick kisses Aimee on the cheek.

“I still can’t believe you too have known each other since you were younger than me. That’s really cool,” Courtney says.

“It is.” Aimee smiles at Patrick.

“What was daddy like as a kid?”

“Not that much different, honestly. He was sweet, generous, kind, and silly. He loved flowers and taught me some stuff about them, and he loved museums and art—and he still is and loves all those things.”

They all get into the car.

“Did he do that thing where he smiles and looks down when you give him a compliment?”

“Yes, he did.”

“He did that when I said he was the best daddy in the whole world when I was seven.”

“That’s so sweet, pattycake.” Aimee takes Patrick’s face in her hand and playfully squeezes it.

He takes her hand and kisses her fingers.

“Oh, my God! Is that your nickname for my dad?”

“Not since we were kids, but yeah.”

They get in the car and during the ride, Courtney asks a few more questions about Aimee and Patrick when they were little. Ms. Courtney is sipping a soda and almost does a spit take after Aimee told her about the time Patrick sang to her.

“He did what?”

“At least, he tried to. Your daddy can’t sing worth a lick.” Aimee laughs.

“It was definitely the thought that counted with that one.” Patrick chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

An hour later, they arrive at LAX and board a private jet, courtesy of Braxton Hamilton.

Aside from real estate, Patrick doesn’t own anything too big.

He has money, but he doesn’t flash it with ostentation.

He’s more subtle. Aimee enjoys that about him.

But he did want to treat her to the experience of a private jet, which she also can appreciate.

Not long after takeoff, Courtney is out cold. Patrick explains that she was so excited about the trip she stayed up all night doing last-minute planning. She’s filming a special segment for her show, and she wants to meet so many people and buy so many things.

“She’s a sweetheart. She did seem a little shy around me, but at least she seems to be open to giving me a fair shot,” Aimee says.

Patrick strokes her face with the back of his hand. “She’s very open. If anything, she was just as nervous as you were.”

“I’m not sure what she heard her mom say, so I wasn’t sure how she would see me. Not to mention, I’m the first woman her dad has introduced her to. There was so much riding on this.”

“I understand. Sheila and I had a talk with her, and Sheila expressed regret over speaking badly about you where Courtney could hear her.”

“She did?”

“She did once I told her she’d no longer have a personal trainer.”

“How are things with her since the move?”

“Better, she seems to have realized that there is no chance between us, and more importantly, she now understands that I don’t play about you.”

Aimee looks at him with hooded eyes. “If Courtney wasn’t here, I’d take you to the bathroom,” she says, her voice low and husky.

Patrick smirks. “You trying to join the mile high club, baby?”

He looks at Aimee with bright, hopeful eyes. He takes off his seat belt and leans over, waving his hand in front of Courtney’s closed eyes to make sure she’s still asleep.

“Patrick, don’t.” Aimee giggles as she whispers.

“Yes, daddy, don’t,” Courtney says with her eyes still closed.

“Sorry, baby.”

“Yeah, sorry, Courtney.”

“It’s okay. Daddy will be paying for my therapy.”

Aimee takes Patrick’s hand and gestures for him to follow her to the back of the plane.

“Yes, please take your adult talk elsewhere. Thank you,” Courtney adds, her eyes still closed.

Aimee and Patrick chuckle.

When they get to the bedroom in the back of the plane, Patrick squeezes Aimee’s hand.

“Baby, we can wait until we have a private moment at the hotel.”

“No, it’s not that. Um, with everything going on concerning Sheila, I didn’t have much of a chance to tell you about Wesley Trammell.”

“The author?”

“You’ve read his books?”

“No, but Courtney is a die-hard fan. She talks about the brother all the time. I was actually going to ask you if they could be introduced.”

Crap!

In hindsight, Aimee probably should have seen this coming.

Wesley’s books are super popular with teens and tweens, especially Black girls.

Channelle Thomas, the main protagonist in Wesley’s series, The Mchawi Chronicles is a fourteen-year-old girl, so she appeals to a lot of young adult and middle grade fans.

“Well, Wesley and I dated, and we broke up last year. Or I broke up with him last year, and he didn’t take it well.”

“How not well are we talking?”

“He cried.”

Patrick purses his lips. “I see. So, are we in for a scene when we see him?”

“I would hope not. He tried to get me to change my mind, but I let him know that wasn’t happening and he stopped. I expect things to be awkward because we haven’t spoken or seen each other since the breakup.”

“Okay. Well, hopefully Courtney’s presence will help.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The landing, car ride to the hotel and drop off at the convention center all happen in a blur.

Soon, they’re walking to the room that’s been designated for authors to pick up their books, merch and swag.

Each room is alphabetized by the authors’ last name, so of course, Bridget is miles away in the M–Q room while Aimee, Patrick—her assistant—and Courtnry head to the R–V room.

“Aimee!” Wesley calls out.

Aimee turns around, and before she can say hi, Wesley’s lips are on hers. Soon, he’s on his knees.

“I’ve been thinking about everything you said, and you were right. If you take me back, I will not take you for granted, and I will make sure to carve out time for us. What do you say?”

Aimee’s eyes are the size of saucers, and she’s speechless. What ? Why ... uh … huh ?

“Wesley, get your ass up.”

Aimee hears Bridget behind her and lets out a relieved breath. Aimee was so shocked she couldn’t think of what to say. That’s never been a problem for Bridge.

Bridget continues berating him. “Aimee has a man, and he’s standing right there with his daughter.”

Wesley looks at Bridget, then briefly at Patrick and Courtney. He stands sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks at Aimee and gives her a weak smile.

“I was … uh … I … um …” Wesley stammers.

Aimee looks at Bridget, hoping she’ll say something to end the excruciating awkwardness.

“Fuck, this is awkward,” Bridget says.

Thanks, Bridge .

Patrick

Patrick looks over at Courtney and nudges his head toward a stand selling hot dogs and soft pretzels. He hands her some cash, and she nods and walks over.

“See, what … I … uh …” Wesley tries to explain himself.

On the one hand, I feel sorry for the brother, but on the other hand, wouldn’t it have made more sense to check in with Aimee ? You know, make sure she’s not with anyone before making such a bold declaration ?

“Wesley, it’s okay. Just go,” Aimee says.

“Okay, sorry. Bye.”

Patrick has never seen someone rush off so fast in his life. The secondhand embarrassment he’s feeling is cringe-worthy. He can’t imagine how Wesley feels. Hopefully, this didn’t put a damper on Courtney’s love for his books.

Patrick, Aimee, and Bridget just stand there for a minute. Bridget starts to chuckle.

“Bridge, it’s not funny,” Aimee whines.

“Yes, it is. Man, Lyric was right about you having that good good cause you got brothers begging you to take them back, left to right.” Bridget laughs some more.

Lyric wasn’t lying .

“Hush, Courtney’s coming back.” Aimee shushes Bridget.

Courtney returns. She offers Patrick a hot dog. He takes it while she nibbles on a pretzel.

“I see Mr. Trammell left,” Courtney observes.

“He did,” Patrick replies.

Everyone stands around quietly for a minute until Bridget says, “Aims, go get your stuff, and all of you stop being weird. It’s going to be okay. We’re all going to have a fun weekend and sell a lot of shit. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Patrick, Courtney, and Aimee reply at the same time.

“Sorry I cursed in front of you, sugar,” Bridget says to Courtney.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Courtney, this is my best friend, Bridget Nelson. Bridge, this is Courtney,” Aimee introduces them.

“Nice to finally meet you, Ms. Courtney.”

“You too, Ms. Nelson.”

“No, I’m Auntie Bridget.” Bridget smiles.

Courtney smiles back. “Okay.”

“Now, if you all will excuse me. I’m going to find my kids.”

“Tell LJ and Tanya to stop by my table.”

“If I can find them, but no worries. They’ll be at the panel.”

Aimee seems calmer . It’s clear she was not expecting Wesley’s reaction, how could she ? How could any of us ? It’s a good thing for all of us Bridget was here .

The rest of the afternoon goes by swimmingly. Seeing Aimee in her element makes him so proud of her.

This is everything she’s wanted.

One woman came up to the table in tears. The Prince’s Journey helped her with her grief when her mother passed away, and she asked for a hug. Aimee hugged her for two minutes with a line full of people.

When the line dies down, Courtney speaks up. “Aimee, can I interview you for an episode of my show?”

“Sure, honey, but I thought it was only for kids.”

“It is, but since you and daddy met when you were kids—and he was the inspiration for the prince—I thought it would be fun.”

“Okay, but my book isn’t for kids.”

“Oh, I know. We’ll talk about how you came up with making daddy the prince and why you love writing. I’m guessing you’ve loved it since you were a kid.”

“I have.” Aimee smiles.

“Great! We can do it on the San Fran Rom Fan Con recap episode.”

“Sounds good, sweetie.”

“Oh, Becca Chambers’s line isn’t super long. I’m going to get my book signed.” Courtney gets up, and right before she runs off, she gives Aimee a hug.

Aimee hugs her back, and soon she’s off.

“Did you see that?” Aimee beams at Patrick.

“I sure did. And you were worried she wouldn’t like you.”

“I’m so glad I was wrong.” Aimee wipes a tear.

“I’m going to get us something to drink. You need anything else?”

“No, I have everything I could possibly need.” Aimee winks.

Patrick leans over and kisses her on the lips. “Be right back.”

“Okay, don’t take too long. The panel is starting soon.”

“I won’t, baby.”

Patrick heads over to the vending machines and is looking at the selection when he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. He turns around, and it’s Wesley.

I really hope this fool isn’t trying to fight me over Aimee because I’d hate to have to kick his ass and catch an assault charge .

“Patrick, right?”

“Right.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I …” He takes a breath.

And looks down at the floor in embarrassment.

“When Aimee and I were dating, my books started popping off like never before, and I started accepting offer after offer. Make an appearance here, do a Q&A there.” He shuffles his feet, still looking down.

“I worked so hard, and things were going well, but somewhere along the way, I lost sight of her. And she didn’t appreciate it. I put my future ahead of us.”

Damn, this is eerily familiar .

Wesley takes a breath, clears his throat and continues, “I took her for granted, and that was a huge mistake. A mistake I thought I could fix with a grand gesture, and that turned out to be?—”

“Awkward and weird,” Patrick says.

“Yeah.” Wesley finally looks up. “Damn, you’re a good-looking dude.”

“Thank you,” Patrick says, brows furrowed, not quite sure where this is going.

“Naw, seriously, bruh. You’re like, ridiculously handsome. I didn’t get a good look at you before cause of all the?—”

“You kissing Aimee.”

“Yeah.” Wesley looks closer at Patrick. He looks at the T-shirt he has on repping Aimee’s brand. It features her logo and website on the front and back. “How often do you work out?”

“Six days a week. Look, Wesley, I don’t know where this is going, but if you’re trying to proposition me and Aimee … I mean, we’ve discussed her with me and another guy, but?—”

“What? No, man. I guess it’s just dawning on me that I don’t have a chance in hell at this point. I mean, shit, bruh, look at you. All big and buff with the shiny bald head.” Wesley notices Patrick’s watch. “Is that a Watch by Braun!”

It is. The watch Patrick’s wearing is by Hans Braun, a German watch company and maker of super expensive time pieces. They make Rolexes look like Casio.

“Yes.”

“Damn, nigga. You look like that, and you’re rich too? Fuck, there ain’t no way in hell.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t. I’m very serious about Aimee, but I get it.

I fucked up with her too. And I had twenty-two years to regret it.

Now that she’s mine again, there’s no way I’m letting her go.

That woman is going to be my wife.” Patrick takes a ring box out of his pocket. “I’m giving her forever.”

Wesley nods in understanding. “Smart man. I wish I had been that smart at the time. I can’t front. I miss the hell out of her, and the sex! Goddamn, it was always so fucking good.”

“Wesley.”

“Yeah?”

“Too far, bruh.”

“Sorry. Take care of her, man. Aimee’s a real one. You’re very lucky.”

“Thanks.”

The two men shake hands, and Wesley exits.