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“You still love her,” Hank said quietly.
“We have a son.” Mick took a breath and told him everything, producing the check Lena had given him.
“That’s quite a tale.” Hank ordered them another round, studying the check intently. “Well, if you came here looking for advice, I have plenty, but you have a lot of things in play.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You’re going to have to deal with your mother and that’s going to lead to a run-in with your father.”
“Will you give me a professional recommendation if things go south?”
Hank chuckled. “I’ll have you working for our biggest competitor by lunch if that happens. The thing is, that would mean leaving Greece.”
“I know.” Mick sighed. “Dammit, I want to stay. Not only do I love this project, I need time to get to know my son and win back his mother. I’m getting ready to marry her and don’t even care about a pre-nup. I know her, inside and out. There’s never been anyone but Lena and while we’ve had a rough time, I believe she loves me too.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“What?” Mick wasn’t sure what he meant.
“Why are you sitting here talking to me instead of wining and dining the beautiful woman you’ve been without for… how long?”
“Almost four years.”
“Go.” Hank waved an impatient hand. “There’s nothing for me to tell you. I disagree with your feelings about the pre-nup, but you have good instincts. If you don’t think you need it, you know better than anyone.”
Mick sighed. “Then why do I feel so confused?”
“Love.” Hank grinned. “Women will do that to you no matter what, and the right woman will never stop.”
“Does Sheila still make you confused?”
“Every minute of the day,” he laughed. “But she’s worth every second of it.”
“Shit.” Mick drained his beer. “I might need a few days off.”
Hank nodded. “Good thing I’m here to pick up the slack then.”
“I’m sorry.” Mick hesitated; this might be problematic.
Hank waved a hand. “The project’s on hold anyway, so go. Do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.” Mick dug out his keys and headed to the rental car. He had work to do, and in a few hours, a phone call to make.
Mick dreaded calling his mother, but he had to. It was a little after six in the morning in San Francisco, but she was usually up doing yoga, Pilates or some other trendy workout regimen, so he sat out back and dialed her number. It was late afternoon, siesta time here in Greece, so the beach behind the villa was deserted and he waited impatiently for her to answer.
“Michael.” Her prim voice made him scowl even though she couldn’t see it.
“Mom.” He tried to keep his voice level.
“I’m on my way out, dear. Did you need something?”
“Tell me about the money you gave Lena.”
The silence on the other end of the line told him she didn’t want to talk about it, but that was too bad.
“That was a long time ago.”
“She was carrying my baby and you scared her so badly she didn’t even think she could tell me.”
