AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Success, domination, and seeing me follow in her footsteps.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I guarantee you this: your mother is going to be gushing over me by the time this lunch is over.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“I would accept a second date as payment.”
“Why would I agree to that?”
“One, because you’re trying very hard and almost succeeding with this act of yours. The whole pretending you’re not charmed by me and powerfully attracted act, that is. Two, because if your mother doesn’t like me, I’ll give you an entire month of quiet.”
She considered. “I want it in writing.”
“Such a business woman,” I said. I pulled out my phone. “Give me your phone number. I’ll text it to you.”
She looked skeptical, but snatched the phone from me and entered her number. Our fingers brushed when she handed it back.
“Soft skin,” I noted. “Somebody moisturizes.”
She jerked her hand away, but I noticed her discreetly run a fingertip across herself where we’d touched. Sometimes, it was a game of inches, and I was far more patient than she was probably expecting.
Inch by glorious inch, I’d thaw her heart, steal it, and then get bored and set it aside like I always did. But nobody enjoyed the game more than I did.
6
ELIZABETH
Enzo’s was an Italian bistro with a pretty outdoor area to sit in the back. The tables were all set up under dark wooden trellises dripping with vines and little pops of colorful flowers. My mother sat at the back of it all. She wore an expression stern enough to drain the color from the nearest flowers. It was as if they were afraid to draw her attention, and I wasn’t sure I blamed them.
Travis waited until the split second before we were in view of my mother to slide his hand against the small of my back. He also started walking closer by my side. My stomach sank. I foolishly imagined I’d be able to control the situation. To control him. The clarity of my mistake hit with the force of a sledgehammer. I’d underestimated him. He may try to pass himself off as a carefree, borderline bumbling idiot, but there was a clever cunning to the man. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I walked right into it.
“Who is this?” my mother asked. She had long, silver hair that she wore in a ponytail. She wore a pantsuit with just enough style to assure anyone who looked her way that she had money, but not a single flourish that might imply she was frivolous or materialistic. I had no doubt she appeared exactly as she wanted to appear. She was a precision crafted instrument made for one purpose only. To brutally succeed, no matter the cost to herself or others. And she’d left a path of scorched Earth and seven figure companies in her wake.
“This is—” I started.
“The boyfriend,” Travis jumped in. The hand I’d been trying to discreetly shake from my back slid around to my waist.
I gaped at him in disbelief.
He replied with a little tug, bumping our hips together in a playful way, almost like he was just jokingly telling her first when we’d agreed that would be my right.
The overwhelming majority of me wanted to take him by the wrist, drop my hips, and flip his ass to the ground. But I knew how that would seem. I’d look weak for getting roped into something like this in the eyes of my mother. She’d chide me later for being foolish enough not to see. I had to play this very carefully. Maybe if I “admitted” we were romantically interested, I could downplay the intensity and hope this blew over. Mother had been harassing me about not dating for years, but I strongly suspected it was a trap. She wanted me to take the bait, and then she’d explain how I was never going to succeed making such directionless choices.
I sidestepped out of Travis’ grasp. “Boyfriend is a strong word,” I said carefully.
“So is love,” Travis countered. “But we use it anyway, don’t we, sugarbums?” he somehow managed to smile at me with a perfect twinkle in his eye as he flashed a row of straight white teeth. He even took my fingertips between his thumb and forefinger while I was too dazed to react. The damn man was too handsome. It was as if he’d fallen in love with himself and couldn’t imagine anyone possibly seeing him otherwise. You could feel his self-love practically radiating out and trying to infect everybody. He made confidence into a contagion, and it was horrifying to behold.
My mother was not one for facial expressions. A woman in control does not wear her emotions on her face. She stores them for calm analysis and acts accordingly. But even my mother’s finely sculpted eyebrow twitched upwards. “Love?” She croaked the word like a frog’s last gasp after getting caught under a boot. I quietly stashed that moment away to revisit. I’d never seen my mother look so surprised or taken off guard. No matter how much of a mess this man was causing, I could at least thank him for that moment.
