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“We have actually met before,” I reply, taking her hand as she offers it. “I’m Damon Chevalier, Alex’s friend.” I spent a fair amount of time at their house in Wellington when I was younger, before she and Mason divorced, and Mason moved to Christchurch. She was often off filming, but when she was home I was often there, as Alex and I were inseparable as teenagers. I haven’t seen her for years, though, so I’m not surprised she doesn’t recognize me.
“Damon!” She looks at me with new eyes. “Yes, of course! Goodness, you’ve grown into such a big boy!”
I give her an amused look. “Well, I haven’t been called a boy for about ten years, but yeah, I guess.”
She smiles. “I’m showing my age. It’s just that my memories are of the two of you tearing around the garden on bikes and then lounging in front of the TV on the PlayStation eating chips.”
“We still do that. It usually involves the latest Call of Duty and a family pack of Doritos.”
She chuckles. “Alex keeps me updated on what you’re all up to, so I know that’s not true. He told me you’re helping him out with THOR.”
I’m surprised that Alex has told her—I didn’t think they spoke much, and the comments he made about her at the office were quite scathing. She’s still his mother, though, so I guess he’d rather talk about his work when he does have to speak to her than about his personal life.
“Yeah, I came down a few days before the wedding.” I cock my head at her. She’s very pale, and it’s not only because of her carefully applied foundation. “I’m very sorry to hear about Ryan.”
She meets my eyes, her brows drawing together. “Do you know, you’re the first person to say that?”
I shrug. “Breakups are tough.”
“They are. It’s been very hard.”
“And even harder having to go through it with a spotlight on you, I’d imagine.”
She nods, then gives a bright smile. “Enough about me. Tell me about my daughter. Alex said you drove her down—that was nice of you.”
“It was a pleasure,” I reply, trying not to blush. “Belle’s lovely, and a great credit to you.”
“Not so much to me. Sherry’s the one who should get all the credit.”
“You’re her mother, Kaitlyn. You were with Belle for her formative years. That has to count for something.”
She bites her lip. “Belle,” she says softly, “I remember the day you called her that. She was all of six. Such a gorgeous little girl.” She looks across at her daughter. “She’s turned into a beautiful young woman. I miss her so much.” She stops talking and swallows hard. I frown. I don’t know what happened with the divorce proceedings, but it was her decision to leave, surely? Why did she go if she wanted to watch her kids grow up?
I follow her gaze to Belle, and watch as Freddie goes by her with two guests, giving her a wink as he passes. I look back at Kaitlyn to discover her watching me with a twist to her lips.
“Are you two having a thing?” she asks.
“Me and Freddie?”
She laughs. “You and Michelle. Actually, I should call her Belle, shouldn’t I? Well, are you?”
“No.”
“But you want to?”
I hesitate, and it’s my undoing—her eyebrows rise, and her eyes fill with delight.
“Oh, how wonderful,” she says. “Does she know?”
“I’m not her type,” I reply.
“Really? Who is her type?”
“Someone like that.” I gesture at Freddie, who’s delivered his guests and has now returned to talk to Belle. He looks young and cocky, just the sort of guy that might attract a girl of Belle’s age. My suit has a timeless, fitted cut that I love, but he’s wearing the tight pants that are trendy now, and although my haircut isn’t exactly old fashioned, Freddie has a high-top fade with a shaved line, and an earring. I’m only twenty-six, but I feel like his grandad.
Kaitlyn snorts, though. “He’s just a baby. Belle would walk all over him. She needs a man who’ll stand up to her and keep her in line.” She winks at me.
I’m saved by Alex, who walks up at that moment. “Keep who in line?” he asks.
