Page 30 of Where the Music Grows

She looks up at me, her expression somewhere between horrified and amused. “He brought his mom.”

I stare at her for a second, waiting for the punchline. “Wait...what? Like, his actual mom? To your date?”

“Yes! His actual mom!” Lisa throws her hands up. “He said she ‘just wanted to meet me.’ Like, no warning, no heads-up—she just showed up at the restaurant and sat down at our table.”

I let out a snort of laughter before I can stop myself. “Oh, my God. What did you do?”

“What could I do? I had to sit there and make small talk with his mom while he acted like it was totally normal!” She shakes her head. “And then—get this—he asked if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner. In front of his mom!”

“No.” I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to laugh.

“Yes! And she just nodded like it was a totally reasonable suggestion! Like, ‘Oh yes, dear, take this nice girl home with you.’” Lisa mimics a sweet old lady voice that’s only half-convincing. “Like she approved of us having sex!”

I lose it, laughing so hard my sides hurt. “Lisa! Why do you keep going out with this guy? I told you he was bad news!”

“I don’t know!” she groans. “He’s cute! And charming! And apparently incapable of having a normal date without involving his mother! And he’s like one of the few eligible bachelors in town.”

“Okay, but this is the third strike,” I say, still chuckling. “You’re done with him now, right? Please tell me you’re done with him.”

She sighs dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. I’m done. No more Colin.”

“Good. Next time you’re considering giving him another chance, just remember: Mom might show up. She might bring condoms to help move things along.”

Lisa groans again, burying her face in her hands. “Ugh, why do I even bother dating in this town? It’s hopeless.”

“It’s not hopeless,” I say, nudging her shoulder. “You just need to stop giving guys like Colin second chances—or third chances.”

“Says the girl who hasn’t been on a date in...how long?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Not dating is a perfectly valid life choice.”

Lisa rolls her eyes but doesn’t push. If anyone knew why I wasn’t dating, it would be front page news.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I almost ignore it—probably just another notification—but something makes me check.

I recognize the number.

My stomach drops.

“I need to take this,” I say, already moving to go out the back door.

“Go ahead. I’ve got this.”

“Hello?”

“Miss Parker.” The voice is smooth. Professional. And instantly recognizable.

“Mr. Langley.” I grip the phone tighter. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“I’m afraid there’s been a development.”

A development. That’s what he calls it. Like it’s some neutral business transaction and not my life crumbling apart.

“What kind of development?”

“Additional expenses.” He clears his throat. “The search has proven more complicated than anticipated.”

Of course it has.