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"Your mom is a wonderful woman."
"She is. There's no one better."
He continued to sit there, waiting for me to say something to break the awkward silence. He finally stood. "Well, just thought you should know." He turned to leave.
"John," I said, standing. "My mom deserves nothing but the best."
He nodded and held my gaze. "I agree."
I admired a man who didn't back down in an uncomfortable situation. "In that case, you should know that she loves Italian food and doesn't appreciate fancy or fussy."
He smiled, and his shoulders relaxed. "Good to know. No other warnings? No threats?"
>
"Do I need to?"
"No."
"Good. I didn't see the need since you already know that I have several construction sites where a body could easily be buried in cement."
He chuckled. "Understood. And Jax? I got this. Don't worry."
I knew he meant not only about my mom, but also our building contract. I shoved my hands in my pockets. "I know you do."
After John left, I turned to stare out the large window behind my desk, staring down to the sidewalks below. It would be strange to see a man in her life after so many years, but she deserved to be happy. My happiness lay before me, encased in steel beams and concrete floors—indestructible—unlike the fragility of the human heart.
From my vantage point, I could look over the streets and avenues bustling with businesses almost unable to keep up with the new economic turn. While I wasn't the only investor in the rejuvenation of downtown, I could see my efforts in every direction. Seeing the improvements and knowing I'd had such a large hand in it offered me immense satisfaction.
Usually.
Today had been a colossal collision of unwelcome events, starting with the delivery of the wrong cabinetry for one building almost finished and a broken water pipe in another. Then came the news of Alan Phelp's unwillingness to sign a contract, followed by John’s revelation that he wanted to date my mom.
I knew today's shitstorm, as irritating as it was, was only a temporary setback. They were almost to be expected when you were in this line of work. I had an excellent team in place to manage all of these crises.
No, the fault for my earlier shitty mood was much deeper and much less understandable. It lay with a beautiful blonde with stunning sapphire eyes.
Half angel, half seductress.
Pastor's daughter.
The first explained why I wanted Grace unlike I had ever wanted a woman before. I couldn't forget how she felt in my arms, how her curves fit against me exactly right, how her scent pervaded my senses. It wasn't just her pretty face, with its creamy skin and dark blue eyes that sometimes sparkled with mischievousness, either. I'd dated many beautiful women. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It was more that she didn't take herself so seriously. I'd been drawn to her sense of humor, even when it had been at my expense. And her response to my kiss was so genuine, giving as good as she got.
But, the unexpected knowledge of who she also was, the daughter of a clergyman, caught me off guard. In my estimate, it either made her the quintessential "good girl," or the stereotype rebel who wanted to rub her dad's nose in her dubious deeds. My gut told me it was the former. Which made her off-limits. Grace was not the kind of woman I could have some fun with knowing I'd discard her later. I knew it. Her dad knew it. And by her own admission, thanks to some schmuck who'd told her about my relationship viewpoint, she knew it, too. Although it hadn't kept either of us from yielding, however briefly, to the other.
Still, wasn't that the definition of temptation? Wanting something you know you shouldn't have? Kissing her had been like tasting the forbidden fruit, and of course, now I wanted more. I was used to nights with only a handful of hours of sleep, but for the past two nights, those hours had been interrupted by memories of her. And worse, if she were that close to Derek's new wife, I'd probably encounter her in the future at some point. That would definitely make things awkward.
"Mr. Carter? Your two o'clock appointment, Ms. Hart, is here. And Clarissa is on line one for you."
Fuck, just what I needed. "Put little Miss Charity off for fifteen more minutes," I barked into the intercom on my desk phone. I paused a second before I realized I was taking my grumpy mood out on her. "Please."
As if today hadn't been shitty enough, now I had to deal with yet another person out to see how much money they could get from me. The story of my successful life. I tried to be supportive of charities so long as all I had to do was cut a generous check.
But my secretary, Eleanor Jablonsky, or Ellie as she liked to be called, had scolded me that I was too stand-offish and uninvolved while organizations happily took my money. I didn't see why I needed to be more invested in them; the organization had the dough they wanted from me, and I had a tax write-off and the fleeting feeling of doing something good. But Ellie was determined to 'humanize' me—her words. I believed I was plenty human; I merely valued my privacy and saw no reason why my face had to accompany that of the checks I wrote.
But in her motherly way, Ellie had convinced me that I should know where my money went and be sure it was a worthy expenditure. "How do you know the animal charity you give to isn't providing electric blankets to cows?" she had challenged. I suggested the deed be passed to the head of my accounting department, but that wasn't good enough. "You oversee every business expense. Don't you think this should be important to you, too? Who knows? Maybe you'll discover there's a world out there beyond your work."
She'd leveled her stern gaze at me, and I'd surrendered. I don't know why I couldn't say “no” to this woman as I did to countless others. Maybe because she was old enough to be my grandmother, and I didn't want her to have a stroke or heart attack from arguing with me. Maybe because she didn't listen anyway.
