AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don’t need it,” I said sharply. “I know Flynn. I’ve got that part handled.”
This was, of course, a giant lie. I mightknowFlynn, but I’d never understood the man. Still, no dossier was going to give me any additional insight.
What I knew for sure was that my usual methods with clients—building a relationship, figuring out what they truly wanted, and making sure they got a fair deal—were not going to work here. Not when we had a lifetime’s worth of misunderstandings and antagonism between us…
And one incredible night of the opposite.
Instead, I was planning to go for shock and awe. Throwing out my most generous, most unrefusable offer first so there’d be no need for any back-and-forth.
“Okayyy,” she said hesitantly. “So I’ll pull together comps and keep an eye on everything else in progress. I’m assuming you’ll be working from there for the time being? Mr. Schaeffer implied you’d be out of the office for a long while.”
I clamped my teeth together to keep from shouting an expletive into my poor assistant’s ears. “Conrad’s wrong. I plan on being back in New York with a signed contract in a week at most.”
The smile was obvious in her voice. “Ah, there’s the Rainmaker talking. Go get ’em, JT!”
After ending the call, I added the stupid office nickname—Rainmaker, gah—to the vat of shit I was irrationally angry about.
That anger was the reason I’d chosen to drive to Maine instead of flying to Portland and taking a helicopter to Honeybridge, like my father often did. I needed to take out all that negativity on the winding two-lane roads and let the sun and wind wash it away before I gave in to my desire to tell my boss where to shove it.
As much as I disliked certain things about Honeybridge, I couldn’t fault the natural beauty of the place. Skirting the edge of an enormous lake in the middle of the Maine woods, where the moose outnumbered the people three to one, it was half a day’s drive—or a billion light-years, depending on your point of view—from the city I called home. And as I cruised down the sun-dappled road, inhaling the deep, heady pine scent that was like no other fragrance in the world, I couldn’t help but leave a tiny portion of my New York stress behind.
Before I had a chance to put the top down on the Porsche and really enjoy it, however, my phone rang again.
“Jonathan, darling, how are you?” My mother’s voice was loud enough to make me jump and nearly knock my iced coffee over. “Things here arewonderful. Rarely have I had a better day.”
I contemplated ending the call. Dealing with Patricia Wellbridge’s socialite melodrama was a frustrating experience at the best of times. Since I’d had to cancel my trip to an all-inclusive Mexican resort (and deal with the theatrical rantings of my friend with benefits, Massimo, who’d now be enjoying the trip without me) before banishing myself to this place, it was safe to say this was not remotely the best of times.
And given the mounting evidence that my mother had been involved in that banishment—the sharp uptick in her hounding to “come home for a nice visit, darling,” added to my parents’ brief visit to the city recently and multiplied by Patricia’s need to control things she had no business controlling—my anger ratcheted high enough to make the steering wheel leather squeak in my tight grip.
We’re getting rid of anger, I reminded myself.Anger is not productive here.
“Mother,” I said carefully. “I’ve got to be honest. I’ve had better days. In fact, I need to get on a very important business call right now.”
I wasn’t proud of the lie, but if I stayed on the phone with her for long, it wasn’t going to end well.
“Nonsense.” Her laughter sounded breathless, and she punctuated each word with aloud puff of air. “Nothing’s… more important… than family.” She panted heavily. “In fact… most ofyourfamily… is coming home… for the summer kickoff this weekend. Redmond. And Thomas. Your brother, Reagan. You know yourbrotheralways makes an effort to get back home.”
Easy enough for Reagan since I wasn’t sure he’d ever officially moved out. My brother was a sweet guy but way too caught up in my parents’ social sphere.
“Good for them,” I grumbled. “But I really do have to go.”
“I understand! I understand! You’re focused on your career. You’re a Wellbridge.” She heaved another breath. “Success. Is in. Your blood. Butfamilyis our strength, sweetheart. Why, your father, the Senator, often says—ooofumowowow!”
She let out a bellow like the warbling wail of a loon, and I sat up straighter in my seat, my temper yielding to concern.
“Mother? Are you alright?” I demanded. “Are you having chest pains? Should I call—”
“No, darling, I’m fine! Just doing my yogaerobics. It’s a newer, morerefinedform of yoga. I’m simultaneously meditating to lower my heart rateanddoing cardio, all while talking to you,” she said proudly.
Yogaerobics? Had she made that up herself?
“But if you’re doing cardio, doesn’t that defeat the whole…” Belatedly, I remembered why it never paid to engage with my mother. You couldn’t have a productive conversation with a person who refused to hear you and could never admit they were wrong. It was as useful as… well, as screaming your frustration at the inside of your car.
Which I badly wanted to do just then.
“Never mind,” I sighed.
“Where are you, sweetheart? You sound perturbed. Are you perturbed? You’re not still driving, are you? Driving while perturbed can besodangerous. And I do believe it’s illegal in Maine.”
