Page 13 of Last First Date

"Isn't this nice?" She smiled. "How long has it been since you and I have been out to dinner alone?"

"A while," I answered.

"It's been too long. Now that you're here, we'll have to make this a habit."

"We'll try," I said.

"How is the house-hunting going?"

I shook my head. "Not great. There's not a lot of places that suit my needs."

"You mean a penthouse apartment."

"Yeah, something like that. I need space. I need amenities. I want privacy."

"If you're after privacy, there's plenty," she smiled. "I have a good friend. She's a realtor. I know she can find you something. There are some new homes being built out by Santa Clara. Maybe you can have a home custom built for you."

"That's an idea," I said. A custom-built home might just be the answer to my predicament.

"I know it's not the same as living in Manhattan with the hustle and bustle, but this town has its charms," she added. "You just need to give it a chance."

I nodded, not wanting to hurt her feelings by dismissing her suggestion outright.

The waitress returned with two glasses of red wine, filling our glasses before she retreated back toward the kitchen. My mother raised her glass, waiting for me to do the same. I reluctantly obliged.

"Here's to having my son home and a bright future."

I forced a smile and took a drink.

"Avery!"

She looked to her left and waved at a couple. "I'll be right back," she whispered. "That's the couple that just bought one of the new commercial buildings."

I watched her walk away, doing her usual kiss on the cheek as she greeted the couple. She waved me to join them, but I shook my head. I had met enough people this week.

I pulled out my phone and checked email. I started drafting emails to a few of my planners, along with my assistant. My thumbs flew over the keyboard on my phone as I began outlining details for a meeting I wanted to have next week. I flinched as a shrieking laugh cut through the low murmur of table conversation. It was my mother. She had a laugh that could shatter glass.

The couple she was with were laughing too, their toothy smiles glinting under the warm overhead lights. My mother's attention was momentarily torn away, and she glanced at me from across the room, her smile unfazed as she jerked her head, inviting me to join them.

I shook my head once again, earning a scowl from her. I went back to my phone. My mother appeared a minute later.

"You can't keep treating people this way, Knox," she said in a hushed voice. "You live here. It doesn't hurt to try and make friends. You're representing the family."

I sighed, pocketing my phone. "Mother, I'm not here on vacation. This isn't a social visit. I have a company to run."

She pursed her lips, her eyes studying me before she reached to grab her glass of wine. "And part of running a company is fostering relationships, is it not?"

I couldn't argue with her there. But these weren't business relationships. These were the townsfolk, friends of my mother’s who had watched me grow up and now needed something to gossip about.

"Fine," I conceded after a moment of silence. "Next time."

"It isn't like they are hounding you," she went on. "You've been moping since you got here. This isn't a prison."

"Take it up with Grandpa," I retorted, the words sharp and unapologetic. "He's the reason I have to work like this. If you want someone to blame, blame him. I could have done all of this from Manhattan, but he insisted I be here."

She flinched and I immediately felt guilty for being so harsh.

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