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“I didn’t know you had a son,” I begin as I start the car. “And before you reply to that, I have to tell you, youdolook beautiful.”
Her lips tip up into a smile. “Thanks. You look good in a suit yourself.”
“I try not to wear them often,” I confess as I pull away from the house.
“I don’t advertise Caleb,” London says. “He’s no secret, and at one point, it was a hot topic in the press—me being an unwed mother—but that press has died off, and I like keeping Caleb out of the spotlight altogether. I know that I can’t shelter him forever, but for now, he’s not the topic of interest, and I’m happy to keep it that way. He goes to a good private school and lives a pretty normal life.”
I raise a brow and turn to her as I slow at the security gate. “Come on.”
“Okay, it’s as normal as it can be. He plays soccer, has play dates with his friends, and goes to the movies. And I am with him as much as I can be.”
“Which is why you come to the office at nine and leave by two.”
I feel like an ass. I assumed she kept those hours because she was the boss, and shecould.I pegged her as spoiled and indulged and, therefore, a slacker.
“I want to be the one to take him to school and pick him up. I don’t have a nanny. Not full time, anyway. Quinn helps out a lot, and she travels with us if I have to go out of town for work. She’s great, and the job works for her and her college schedule.”
“He’s a cute kid.”
Now that makes her light up. “Thanks. I might be biased, but I think so, too. And smart. Holy shit, he’s smart. I can’t get anything past that kid. Anyway, I’ll stop gushing about him.”
“You’re a mom.” I still can’t quite believe that. “It’s your job to gush. My momstilllikes to talk about her kids.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“I have two sisters. They’re twins and older than me. Technically, they’re half sisters. My mom had them with her first husband, but my dad adopted the girls right after they got married. If anyone heard me refer to them ashalf, I’d get my ass chewed.”
“As it should be,” London says with a nod. “So, you’re the baby of the family.”
“Of the immediate family. But I have about a dozen or so cousins, and we’re all really close. We were kind of raised as siblings. You’re the baby, too.”
“Yes, Rome is less than a year older than me.”
“What’s up with the city names?”
That makes her laugh as she fiddles with the handbag in her lap. “It was my mom’s idea. We weren’t conceived there or anything weird like that. She just loves those cities and wanted to name us after them. Dad didn’t care.”
“Where’s your mom now?”
I feel her turn to watch me. “You don’t watch the news much, do you?”
“Not really,” I admit.
“My mother is in the south of France with her new husband, who happens to be five years older than me. Jacque. I’ve never met him.”
“Wow. You don’t speak to your mom?”
“Once a year. On my birthday, she calls to sing to me. On Caleb’s birthday, a delivery comes with way more toys and crap than he needs. On Christmas, I get diamonds of some kind. This necklace was last year’s gift.”
Her fingers clasp around the large diamond pendant just under her collarbone.
“Aside from that, no. She’s pretty wrapped up in her own life, having fun in Europe.”
“You don’t sound too torn up about it.”
London clears her throat, showing the first sign of any emotion during the entire conversation. “My parents didn’t raise me. Mrs. Olson did. She was my nanny from the day I came home from the hospital. She raised both Rome and me until we were in college. I speak to her often and see her several times a year. Sometimes, she and her husband vacation with us.”
I nod, getting a better picture of how London grew up, and it only gives me more respect and appreciation for how she’s chosen to raise her own son.
