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“He’s charming, of course.”
“Do you love him?”
She gasped, affronted. “Would I marry anyone I didn’t?”
Only four other times. “Would you take care of him through thick and thin?”
“Jason, Geoffrey is ten years younger than me and in perfect health. Neither of us are on our death beds.”
And his mother was missing the point of the question completely, probably on purpose.
“Would you do anything to comfort him if he lost something priceless?” He couldn’t compare Gia’s unflagging support of her family after Tony’s death against his mother helping her next fiancé through a missing cuff link or whatever. The questions were soaring right over his mother’s head because she valued things far more than people.
She laughed off his questions. “I’m sure I’d find the appropriate words for such a moment and hand him a double Scotch. Where are you going with this?”
Jason winced and gave up explaining it to her. She had limitations, and he wouldn’t change her. But one thought resonated in his head over and over: If he let Gia slip through his fingers, he’d probably wind up with a new wife every five or ten years, each one much like Samantha.
The thought sickened him.
But he couldn’t control everything between them. He certainly couldn’t make her love him.
Fuck.
“When is the party?”
“Tonight at eight o’clock.” She rattled off an address, somewhere off of Mockingbird in Highland Park.
Old money. Naturally.
“I have a meeting at four thirty. If it wraps before then, I’ll be there.”
“Lovely. Don’t disappoint me.” Samantha hung up.
Jason ended the call and shook his head.
He felt sorry for his mother because she would never know anything deeper than the joy of pretty, shiny things for sale. She’d never really feel her heart. Moreover, he didn’t want to be like her. He wanted what Gia’s parents had.
He wanted Gia.
How could he impress that upon her when he saw her this afternoon? All his usual ideas—jewelry, handbags, shoes—took him in the wrong direction. She wouldn’t care about any of that. She wouldn’t take a trip to an alley with him, much less anywhere tropical and fabulous so that he could romance her unless she wanted to be with him.
Other than her divorce settlement, she didn’t seem to care about money. In fact, now that he thought about it, her agreeing to spend eighteen days with him for the cash seemed out of character.
Unless the money wasn’t for her at all.
He pounded on the steering wheel with a sigh. Oh, hell. He’d been so stupid.
But at least he knew what to do now.
A few errands and a lot of anxious waiting later, Jason pulled up at the park, locked his car, and headed toward their meeting point. The sun shined brightly, the thermometer edging toward the seventy-degree mark as the last of autumn fought against a winter that would soon encroach. A few leaves still clung to the trees. Ducks swam in the nearby pond. Kids ran and laughed across the little stone bridge near the granite bears that served as monuments. He’d grown up here and always thought of this place as a little slice of heaven, a refuge in the city.
Now being here just ate at his guts.
Jason glanced at his watch. Right on time. He looked around for Gia, leaning against a little railing, hoping like hell he’d made the right decision.
As he second-guessed himself, Gia approached in a pair of faded jeans, a simple coral-hued T-shirt paired with a beige cardigan, and flip-flops. What she didn’t wear was her wedding ring or a smile. Jason couldn’t stop the anxious slide of his stomach to his toes.
He didn’t want a goddamn divorce.
