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“He does,” Alex said. “He also knows that if I say I’ll give him an update tomorrow, it’s only that—an update. Keeping his business is worth it to me to burn a little midnight oil.”
“If we moved the business south like I’d wanted, we could better support people like Frank.”
Now that he’d started dating someone living north of here, his father decided to resurrect his idea of moving Wellington south? Is that what had him so grumpy tonight?
“But you know land is cheaper here. Going north, we could start capturing more of the Chicago-area and southern Michigan markets.”
His father frowned but nodded. “Maybe.”
A maybe was always better than a no. Also, Alex hadn’t come here to talk business—that wasn’t fair to his mother. He looked to her and smiled, trying to steer the conversation back to including her.
“So, Mom, tell me about this charity event you just did with the Lions Club.”
“Lions Club? Oh no, last weekend was with the chamber. But you would have loved it, dear. They had several expensive bottles of bourbon in the silent auction.”
“Did you bid on any for me?”
She looked to his father. “Did we?”
Nathaniel shifted in his seat. “Uh no, not last weekend. So, Alex, did you think any more about vacation?”
Damn, they’d almost made it through an entire meal without anyone bringing it up. And sure, chilling on a sunny beach later this month sounded nice, but he could do that anytime. Right now, he wanted to explore this thing that had blossomed between him and Mia over the weekend.
“We’re going on vacation?” his mother asked.
“Over the holidays. I told you that,” his father said, scowling.
Uh-oh.All was not butterflies and rainbows in the Wellington house. So that’s why his father had been a little on edge tonight. As much as he’d love to hear his beloved parents start their usually mild bickering, now was as good a time as any to finish his meal and make an escape. If he hurried, he might even be able to work in a quick call to Mia and see how Brooklyn’s band concert had gone tonight.
Alex finished his last bite of dinner and pushed back from the table.
“Sorry, Dad, I kind of forgot about it. Been a little preoccupied, trying to coordinate repairs for the Rover while juggling a few major year-end municipal orders. Can I let you know next week?”
“You can let me know Sunday. We’re planning a family dinner with my brother and his wife. We’ll expect you here.”
Alex arched a brow. It’d been a while since his father had felt the need to guilt him into attending family functions. He hoped Uncle Zeke was doing all right. “I’ll do my best.”
“But I thought Alex’s book signing was this weekend,” his mother said.
“No, Mom, that’s the following weekend. Wait—were you guys thinking of coming?”
She reached over to place her hand on his. “Of course, sweetheart. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Pride blossomed in his chest.
“That means a lot to me. Thank you. I’ll send you the address and times.” He gave his mother’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“Okay, dear.”
Alex headed for home after that, his villa a comfortable twenty-minute drive. Not too close to his folks, not too far, but just right. He’d bought it new, a spec home that had been the right price in the right place at the right time. Specifically, after his brief marriage to Caroline.
He’d wanted to start fresh, and this villa had been the perfect blank canvas for that. Alex had hired a local interior designer to furnish it, since he was on the road too often to come up with all that on his own. It was masculine but not lumberjack, modern but not cold. To him, it felt comfortable. Functional.
But after spending the weekend in Mia’s cozy Craftsman, walking into his modern villa felt about as welcoming as walking into his investor’s lobby. Clean, orderly, and with zero personality. In another word,boring. Funny how he’d never noticed it before. Also, he now realized, there was not a single Christmas decoration in sight. Mia would be so disappointed if she saw his place.
A smile tugged at his lips at the memory of their kisses. Friday could not come fast enough.
He made the calls he needed to make for work, then checked the time: 9:45 p.m. Too late to call her? Unsure, he texted and asked if she was still up. When she replied, he traded his office for the living room and hit the call button.
