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I take a big old coward’s step back. If I let him kiss me now, it won’t be because someone’s watching and we need to keep up our “cover.” It will be because I want him to, and I can’t want him to. I just can’t.
I’m lying to him. Oh, it’s for his own naïve good, but I’m still lying.
“I think we should keep this professional,” I say, but the words come out all breathy.
One brow cocks over those warm eyes of his. “I’m not sure that’s going to work for us. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve got this crazy chemistry thing going on.”
I shake my head. I don’t believe in chemistry things. What’s going on is nothing more than horniness and the availability of an attractive partner of the right persuasion. That’s all it is. There’s not some mystical thing that happens between men and women. “And we have a business going on.”
“And you learned your lesson,” he says, the words an obvious reluctant acceptance. He backs off. “I’ve learned these things tend to fall into place. So I’ll be patient. I think you should help me on one of my interviews. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning.”
A light comes on in the background, and I realize my mother is staring out at us. She’s still in jeans and a sweater, her purse on her shoulder because she’s just walked in.
I climb through the window, feeling like a teen who’s gotten caught with a forbidden boyfriend. He’s forbidden all right, and that’s why he’s not going to be my boyfriend. “Hey, Ma. This is Heath. He went with me to the party tonight. We’re going to be working together. Heath, this is my mother, Diane Jensen.”
Heath has to bend in two to get through, but he’s smiling when he makes it. He holds out an overly large hand. “Mrs. Jensen. I’m Heath Marino. Nice to meet you.”
My mother shakes it, but her eyes are narrowed on him. “Are you planning on screwing my daughter over?”
Heath takes that question with a cool I wouldn’t have thought he had. “Not at all. I’m entirely in her hands. She’s already stolen forty percent of my company and held the first investor meeting without me, while I was left in a pool of sharks holding a flatulent… I don’t know. It was a dog of some kind, or a really big rodent with excellent hair. I mean it was shiny like someone loved it. And I’m pretty sure that collar had actual diamonds on it. My point is if anyone is being taken advantage of, it’s me.”
My mother’s smile is reluctant but genuine. “See that it stays that way. Now off with you. It’s after midnight. Nothing good happens after midnight.”
“Good night, Mrs. Jensen. Good night, Ivy.” He gives a jaunty salute. “I’ll see you in the morning. Bring a box of tissues. These usually get emotional.”
I’m not sure why we need emotions to train an AI, but I watch him go, and then my mother is locking the door behind him, turning every dead bolt and finishing with the chain that would keep absolutely no one out.
In her mind, we’re locked away from the rest of the world now and it’s safe.
I know it’s not. I know the world is here with us every second of the day.
“How much did CeCe give you?” My mother wastes no time.
This again. I hate this. My mother loathes CeCe, and I don’t get it. “None of your business. I’m going to bed.”
I turn because I can see she’s had a couple of glasses of wine or a few beers, and that’s usually when she wants to argue. My mother is not a drunk by any definition, but on the infrequent occasions when she’s tipsy, she veers to the aggressive.
“Can’t you see this is how she controls you?”
I whirl around. “She doesn’t control me at all. That’s what you don’t understand. You’re the one who wants control. CeCe only wants what’s best for me.”
“Turning you into another her is what’s best for you? Turning you into a person who lives to do nothing but grab money from hardworking people?”
“It’s called building a business, and I never grabbed a dime of your money, Ma. If you recall, I worked my way through school.”
“No, you got lucky,” she argues.
I’m so tired of this. She believes because I don’t work with my hands or have an MD or a career she sees on TV, that I don’t really work. She can’t conceive of coding as building something. “Good. I got lucky. I’ll get lucky again.”
Her face flushes. “Or you’ll ruin everything again. Do you have any idea how your father would feel about his daughter constantly taking handouts from some rich bitch? He would be so ashamed.”
