Page 3 of Naughty Heart

His wife.

“Mr. and Mrs. Westwood, I’m so sorry to interrupt your plans. I didn’t know you had a family gathering this morning. I’m Noelle.”

Noelle.

I knew I wasn’t crazy. She had a Christmas name.

Noelle closed the distance between herself and my parents, extending her hand to them. My dad was pleasant and happily shook it. Even though she did the same, my mom looked like she was being poisoned.

After introducing herself to my parents, Noelle turned her attention to me.

I offered a half-hearted smile and said, “I’ll give you a call.”

She beamed at me. “I left my number next to the bed.”

Right.

I was going to need that if I planned to contact her. Of course, I wasn’t convinced I intended to do that.

I walked Noelle to the door, and the second I closed it behind her, my mom sighed, “Larry, you better start, because I’m not sure I can do it without losing my mind.”

My brows pulled together. “Start? Start what?”

My dad sighed. “We need to have a talk, Malcolm.”

“Well, my plans for this morning just walked out the door, so I’ve got the rest of the day. What do you want to talk about?”

“Your ridiculous behavior,” my mom exclaimed.

So much for not losing her mind.

“What your mother is trying to say is that we’ve had a discussion about you and the way you’ve been acting for the last few years, and we need to see an improvement,” my dad explained.

I shot them a questioning look and threw my hands up as I shrugged. “An improvement in my behavior?” I headed toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’m an adult.”

“And you’re acting like a spoiled child. What are you even doing with yourself?”

“I’m just having a good time, Mom,” I reasoned. “I go to work and do my job. It’s the week after Thanksgiving, and I’m enjoying a few days off. I don’t think there’s any harm in that.” Grabbing a glass out of the cabinet for myself, I asked, “Do you want anything to drink?”

My parents shook their heads, and it was my dad who spoke. “We’re not here to socialize with you, son. This is serious.”

“What do you mean? I’m technically on vacation right now.”

“And if you don’t shape up soon, it’s going to turn into a permanent one,” my mother warned me.

I narrowed my eyes, quickly realizing this wasn’t just some friendly visit. Of course, I suspected my parents had something they wanted to discuss with me, but it wasn’t until this very moment that I recognized how serious this was. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions here, but are you telling me that I’m in trouble for taking a few days off? I worked right up until the Thanksgiving holiday. Am I not entitled to a few days off?”

“Oh, please, Malcolm. You do just enough at work to appear busy. That’s not going to cut it any longer.”

I downed half the glass of water I’d poured myself, set the cup down, and crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s going on?”

“We are trying to run a successful business. We want to have a legacy to leave behind,” my dad declared.

I already knew this. “What makes you think that you aren’t?”

He shook his head. “We are. We know we are. The problem is that we thought you were the one who was going to take the reins, eventually.”

I didn’t like this turn this was taking. “Was?”