She’s gorgeous, but you don’t think you’re her type

Fortunately, Sofia takes after her mother, so much so that she almost looks like a younger copy of Mrs. Franopoulos. Her thick curly hair is a deep black, framing an olive skinned face with sharp cheekbones, thick lips, bold eyebrows, and a nose that you think is supposed to be called roman or aquiline or something like that. She’s wearing a sleeved red blouse with small ruffles, a black skirt, and stockings. You notice that she wears a cross on a chain around her neck, just like her mother.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” you say, extending your hand. Sofia takes it and shakes it warmly.

“Charmed,” she says. She glances at her mother, but you can’t read her expression.

Mrs. Franopoulos turns to her husband. “Come help me in the kitchen, glyke mou. Dinner is almost ready.”

The older couple leaves the room and Sofia smiles at you sheepishly. She gestures at the couch.

“Won’t you sit?” she asks.

“Sure.” You take a seat at one end of the couch and Sofia sits at the other, leaving plenty of room between you.

“Do you… know why you’re here?” she asks.

That catches you off guard. “Uh… for dinner? Your mother was very insistent.”

“Well, yeah, that too. But do you know why?”

You shake your head.

“My mother thinks you’d make a good husband,” she says, shaking her head and chuckling. “This isn’t the first time she’s invited a man to dinner for me to meet. At least she warned me this time.”

“Huh.” Things suddenly make a lot more sense to you now.

“Yeah.”

“And are you looking for a husband?” you ask.

“Not particularly.” She smiles at you. “But it keeps my mother happy.”

As she smiles, you finally notice a small piercing hole on the side of her nose that she’s attempted to cover with makeup. You also notice the telltale bump of an eyebrow piercing with the barbell removed. Now that you’re looking, you think you can also see the edge of a tattoo peeking from the edge of her skirt. Lastly, the chain with the cross on it is just a little too short for her neck, and looks too uncomfortable to be worn regularly. This woman, as much as she appears to be a sweet and dutiful daughter, is hiding a lot from her family.

You decide to make a wild guess, knowing that if you’re right it will make you look pretty cool. “So I take it your parents don’t know about your girlfriend?”

Sofia sits suddenly upright. “How did you…”

“Just following the clues,” you say, feeling like the world’s greatest detective.

She reaches out her hand and grasps your arm. “Please, you can’t tell them. It would break my mom’s heart, and my dad… Please, it would be a disaster.”

“Don’t worry,” you say. “I’m really not the type to start drama.”

Sofia calms a bit. “Thank you.”

“How long have you been keeping your relationship a secret? It can’t go on forever, can it?” you ask.

She sighs “As long as they’re paying for grad school, I don’t really have a choice. Once I’ve completed my program, then we’ll… we’ll have that conversation.”

“That makes sense, I guess. I’m sorry you’re in that situation,” you say. Then, before you can stop it, that Machiavellian urge that led you to subjugate Karina just this morning rises in your chest and forces words out of your mouth. “Would you rather be completely open and honest with me or completely open and honest with your whole family?”

She blinks at you. “You seem like a nice enough guy, and I’m definitely not ready to tell my family. Especially not my grandma. I choose you.”

You suppress a grin. She thought she was just answering about being in the closet, but with the way you worded that, you’re pretty sure it’ll apply to everything.

“Show me a picture of your girlfriend,” you say.

Sofia pulls out her phone, scrolls a bit, and hands it to you. You see a chubby white woman with glasses, her auburn hair buzzed in a masculine cut, wearing a sweater and laughing at the camera.

“Her name is Juliette,” Sofia says.

“Do you have a picture of the two of you together? Something sexier.”

“Uh, hold on.”

Sofia scrolls a bit and shows you another photo. It’s of the two of them in a club, with wild makeup and holding glowsticks. Sofia is wearing a scandalously low cut shirt and miniskirt while Juliette has a black leather corset that pushes her sizable chest up and forward. It is, you admit, very sexy.

“You should send that to me,” you say.

“Okay,” Sofia says, handing you her phone so you can’t put your number in it. “Why?”

“Just part of being open and honest with me.”

“Okay.”

After a moment, Mr. Franopoulos sticks his head into the living room. “Dinner is ready at the table. Who would like wine?”