“You’re not busy, are you, sweetie?”
I stifle a sigh, not sure why she bothers calling when she thinks she might be interrupting. “I have a few minutes. What’s up?”
“Well, your father and I were talking.” My stomach dips unpleasantly. The bubbly excitement in her voice can’t mean anything good for me. “And we’d love to take a trip out to New York to see you!”
“What?” I immediately dial down the panic, adopting a more nonchalant tone. “You really don’t have to do that. You were just here last year.” They helped me set up everything in my new office… the one they think I still rent. The nice, luxurious one that you don’t bang your knees and elbows on every day trying to navigate.
“We haven’t seen you since then. I know you were busy over the holiday season and couldn’t visit, so we figured we’d come to you.”
Guilt courses through me at the reminder I lied to them about why I didn’t come for Christmas. It wasn’t that I was too busy with work. It was that I was dead broke and in the process of vacating both my old office and the apartment I could no longer afford. The place I’m living in now is a real dump in comparison, but beggars can’t be choosers.
“Mom, that’s so sweet of you, but I don’t know. I’m so… busy,” I end with lamely.
“We won’t be in your hair, I promise,” she brushes me off with a laugh. “We’ll do some sightseeing, maybe catch a show, and just touch base with you a few times.”
Her cosmopolitan act doesn’t fool me. She and Dad have never caught a show in their life. That kind of entertainment isn’t available in their small town in Ohio.
I bite my lip, wondering if I should finally confess, then decide against it. I don’t want to destroy the image of the successful businesswoman they have of me. I need that dream to stay alive for someone, need their faith in me. It’s what spurs me on most days.
“I’ll make it home for Christmas this year. No excuses.”
She makes a clucking sound. “That’s over seven months away. I have to see my baby before then.”
I snort. “Your baby? I’m twenty-six years old.”
“You’ll always be my baby.”
An email notification pops up in the lower right hand area of my screen, and I have to stifle a groan. “Mom, I’m sorry, but a client just contacted me.”
“No problem, honey. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Oh, before you go, I landed a big wedding today. The son of a billionaire. It’ll be a huge paycheck for me and I’ll finally be able to pay back some of the money you lent me.”
“That was a gift. You don’t owe us anything.”
The kindness in her voice intensifies the guilt. “I’d still like to. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you.”
I hang up and open the email from Danielle and her latest suggestions of things she wants for her son’s first birthday party in a few weeks. Face painter. Balloon artist. A private garden in the city.
The first two I can make happen, but the third? Where does she think I’m going to get access to one of the few private parks in Manhattan? The building she lives in certainly doesn’t have one, and what she’s paying me won’t buy entry to one either.
I rub at my temples, mentally crafting a reply that strikes a tone between I’ll do my best to make it happen and Lady, you’re out of your damn mind.
What I need to be focusing on is tomorrow’s meeting. That’s where the real money lies. A way to save my business and get me back on track.
Thank God Gabriel didn’t hold my rejection of him at the bar against me. But also thank God I had rejected him. I can only imagine what kind of clusterfuck that’d be if I’d slept with the groom.
I’d never be stupid enough to do that.
Chapter Three
Gabriel
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
I grimace, glad Connor can’t see my face over the phone. “You heard that from halfway around the world?”
“Word spreads fast.” I can just imagine him grinning, his blue eyes crinkled cheerfully at the corners. He’s never let a day get him down.
“And who broke the oh so joyous news to you?”
I set my phone down on the marble bathroom counter and put it on speakerphone while I run a comb through my hair. Wouldn’t want to look bad for Macken- I mean Serena.
“Dad told me during our weekly check-in. He wanted an update on how the new call center is doing here, and at the end he tacked on a gruff Gabriel’s engaged to Serena Montague to make the buyout go smoother,” he says in a pitch-perfect imitation of Dad.
I laugh at his impression, because otherwise I might sob at the reminder I’ll be married soon. “Yep. That about sums it up.”
“So you were sacrificed for the cause?”
Sacrificed is a good word. Lets me play up the martyr angle more. “I’m trying not to think about it too much,” I tell him. “It’ll be bad enough when the day comes.”
“Maybe you’ll fall madly in love with her,” he jokes, but it falls flat on my ears.
“Not likely, buddy. She’s got the hots for Archer.”
“What?”
I sigh. Once again, I just don’t measure up to my older brother. At least my younger one isn’t in competition right now from the Philippines. Well, not for any potential brides anyway.
“She made it pretty clear she thought it was him she’d be marrying, not me.” I’m not taking it too personally, but it’s still a kick in the nuts.
“Sorry, man.” His voice holds genuine sincerity, the same way Mom used to sound. “What did Archer say?”
“I don’t think he knows. And don’t tell him.” The whole thing’s embarrassing enough as it is.
“Why not?”
“Because he either won’t care and it’ll be awkward, or then he’ll be the martyr and I’ll somehow get blamed for it. Besides, Dad’s probably saving him for someone richer.”
“Yeah?” he laughs. “Then who does he have in mind for me?”
I rack my brain for a girl we went to prep school with. Connor was a sophomore when I was a senior, so there has to be someone. “How about Amanda Harcourt?” Her father was a network executive at NBC back in the day, and I’m sure he’s only moved up the ranks since then. “Then we’d have the media on our side.”
“Now you’re thinking strategically. It’s actually a little scary.”
I chuckle, slightly miffed that he thinks I’m incapable of strategy, but I know he doesn’t mean anything by it.
I take him off speakerphone and head back out into the living room, grabbing a water bottle out of the fridge for the road. “Listen, I need to get going. I have a meeting with the wedding planner.”
“All right. But seriously, congratulations. I hope you and Serena can make the best of a crappy situation.”
God, that’s so like him to stay optimistic. Every good part of Mom rubbed off on him. It’s why I make sure to keep in touch with him, no matter where he is in the world.