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He screwed everything up by screwing my best friend.
It wasn’t a week afterward that I’d gotten the call about my mom being in the hospital. A “small” heart attack felt the same as a big one to me, especially when it came to my mom. I’d flown across the country in a heartbeat, leaving everything behind.
What I would never admit to my mom was that it was actually a breath of fresh air to be away from New York City. She knew I had broken things off with Charlie. But only just the what, not the why.
It was hard enough to admit to myself that my fiancé had decided to sleep with my best friend. It would’ve been even worse to tell my mom about it.
I heaved a sigh and closed up a box we’d filled. “TO DONATE,” I marked it. It was filled with little knickknacks my mom had collected over the years. Some of them I’d given to her, but I feigned ignorance when she wondered about them and put them in the box. She didn’t need extra belongings and memories weighing her down as she made her move.
This house was heavy enough.
I couldn’t say I had great memories growing up here because I didn’t. But it still didn’t feel good uprooting my mom when I knew she didn’t want to leave the house. Though it didn’t change the fact that it felt like the worst, I knew it was for the best.
I packed a few more boxes before returning to my childhood bedroom to sleep. My mom hadn’t changed anything, and my photos, yearbooks, and stuffed animals loomed as I heaved myself into the bed. It definitely felt strange, like I was staying in some kind of living memorial to a different time, which was fine. I would have to deal with this, too, amid everything else, because I was saying goodbye to this home just as much as my mom was. Despite whatever I told myself, it didn’t help ease how much it sucked. With a loud sigh, I tossed and turned, my mind running non-stop over everything that happened in my life as I tried to sleep.
3
Heather
“Screw you, Charlie! Get the fuck out of my life, both of you.” I woke up from my dream the next morning with tears in my eyes. Those were my last words to Charlie—my ex-fiance whom I thought was the love of my life. And my best friend, who stabbed me in the back. My heart was pounding like a speeding train on the tracks. I wished the pain would all go away.
I tried to bring myself together and force myself out of bed, refocusing my attention and energy on my mom instead. As much as I am trying to accept my new reality, I hope she accepts hers: that her career was over, and she had to move on to the next step in her life.
Of course, I didn’t realize how laughable the thought was until I found that my mom had left the house without so much as a note. It only took a little sleuthing to discover that her phone and keys were gone, as was her car.
She didn’t answer my call. Unacceptable—that’s what this was. She would’ve been just as indignant—and she had been—when I’d ignored her calls as a teenager.
I knew exactly what she’d decided to do: take Graham Hilborne up on his million-dollar offer to care for his kid even if she medically shouldn’t be doing that anymore.
It just took a quick search online to figure out where my mom was. I drove my rental over to Graham Hilborne’s house—or would it be more accurate to call it a manor, estate, or resort?—and parked behind my mom’s car. This was ridiculous. Either my mom fell for the offer of three million dollars, or her former employer worked behind my back to offer her even more cash to return to work. Either way, she was obviously here—going against her doctor’s orders and my wishes—and putting herself at work again.
Both of our cars looked junky next to this monstrosity of a place. Sure, the place could’ve easily deserved its own spread in a magazine, but it didn’t mean I thought it looked nice. Personally, it could’ve used some toning down. From the perfect landscaping—not a blossom out of place nor a weed in sight—to the imposing bricks and spotless windows, this was surely the home of a billionaire. It was a place that looked like someone kept throwing money at it.
Graham Hilborne wasn’t allowed to throw money at my mom to take care of his kid. I was here for her, and I wasn’t about to let it happen. I was more than ready to stand up for my mom.
I rang the doorbell, beat on the door itself, and hesitated only a moment more before throwing open the door. Did I regret scaring the crap out of the housekeeper who was approaching the door to see who was there? Absolutely. But I tried not to care. I was here for my mom, who needed to rest and recuperate after her heart attack. She might have spoken dozens of niceties about how much she loved this kid and her father, but it didn’t supersede her health needs.
The truth of the matter was that my mother needed to rest. But she wasn’t going to find that rest if she continued to work after her doctors told her she needed to stop.
“I’m looking for my mother,” I said with a tight smile, fighting to stay polite. This poor housekeeper probably had no idea what was going on. “Carol Rainey.
“Yes, she’s here,” the woman said. “But it’s irregular for her to accept guests while working, so I’m going to have to ask you to wait here while I get authorization.”
“Excuse me.” I snagged the woman by the wrist as she turned to go. “What’s irregular is that Carol isn’t supposed to be working here. She’s retired.”
“Unhand my housekeeper.” I loosened my group out of surprise, and the woman darted away. A tall—and, okay, handsome—man strode into the foyer, and in spite of myself, I took a step backward. That’s how tall he was—imposing, really.
“My mother is here,” I said. “Carol Rainey.”
“My nanny,” the man said.
“Wrong,” I said. “My mother, who is retired, officially and medically.”
The man scowled. “You must be Heather.”
This wasn’t the picture I had in my mind when I imagined Graham Hilborne. I’d imagined someone svelte and kind of slimy. This man was…all man—tall, broad shoulders, muscular, dark, and handsome with green eyes that you could lose yourself in—the opposite of Charlie, who was blond and trim and secretive.
I shook myself from my daydreams. This was ridiculous.
