“I’ll let the designer know.” After a brief moment of hesitation, I add, “I’m dating her.”
“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for years. I’m glad you’re finally giving yourself a chance.”
“What do you mean?” I stop in front of the window, frowning.
“Since Sarah died, you’ve closed yourself off. You—”
“Mom, I’ve been busy. Raising a daughter and running a business isn’t easy.” Why did I ever think sharing this piece of information was going to be a good idea? Now I’ll never hear the end of it. Fact is, though, Mom genuinely worries for me. She tried more times than I can count to set me up with some bimbos—daughters of members of her bridge club.
Between Mother’s matchmaking attempts and those of the Bennett clan, I’ll take the Bennetts every day.
“That’s not an excuse,” she continues. “You make time for the people you want in your life, like me and Julie. If you’d wanted to make time for a woman, you would have.”
My mother rarely confronts me about my personal life—usually preferring to set me up behind my back—but when she does, she’s spot-on.
“Moving on is not a bad thing,” she continues. “Like I did with Gerald.”
“Mom, let’s not talk about this again.”
Three years after my father’s death, Mom announced she had a boyfriend. At first, I thought it would never last because Gerald is the opposite of Mom in every way. Where Mother is concerned with appearances and following rules to a T, Gerald is a laid-back guy. He’s a buffoon of sorts, but he makes her happy, so I’ve come to like him, even though his sense of humor completely escapes me. My mother had her fair share of pain, and she deserves to be happy. She handled pain much better than I did; she didn’t fall into a black hole. I always thought it was because she had time to say her good-byes to Dad. He died after a two-year battle with leukemia, whereas I lost Sarah to a car accident.
“How are Julie’s etiquette classes going?” Mom’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Fantastic.” The lie rolls off my tongue without effort. Mom insisted that twelve was the ‘proper age’ to start taking official etiquette classes. She’s been teaching Julie on her own for years and feels it’s time for formal lessons. Having been through that crap myself when I was a kid, there’s no chance I’ll put my daughter through it. It was so boring and over-the-top I wanted to poke my own eyes out. But Mom doesn’t have to know that. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, which calls for a change of topic.
“When are you leaving to go to the Hamptons?”
Mom’s best friend lives there, and they’ve been visiting each other regularly for as long as I can remember.
“Oh, I won’t be going anymore. Bette is coming to Boston this year. I signed us both up for Krav Maga. It’ll shake things up.”
“Krav Maga?” I ask, suddenly on alert. “Isn’t that a self-defense technique? Did you check with your doctor about this first?”
“You don’t have to baby me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”
Yeah, I bet Pippa’s dad said the exact same thing right before he landed himself in the hospital.
“Well. I’ll leave you to your own business,” she says quickly, in an obvious attempt to get me off her back. “But consider this. If your seventy-year-old mother deserved a second chance at love, so do you,” she continues.
A second chance… The words feel like a knife to my ribs. I hadn’t thought about it like that. I’ve been so focused on making sure I’m not asking Pippa for something she’s not ready for that I haven’t stopped to think about anything else. She and I are kindred spirits, and yes, maybe on the lookout for a second chance. Caring is dangerous, though. The more you care, the more debilitating the loss. I learned that years ago. But Pippa makes it impossible not to care for her. After last night, I want more than ever to be part of her life.
The woman is irresistible, and I can’t get enough of her—talking to her, kissing her, making love to her. Every time I make her laugh feels like a small victory. Pippa Bennett will be one spoiled woman for as long as I’m here.
Chapter Fifteen
Pippa
After my shift is over, I hurry home and dress to impress, even though I’d much rather stay at home, order some food, and curl up on my couch with a steamy romance book. I’m putting on the finishing touches when my phone rings. I beam when I see Eric’s name on the screen.
“Hello, handsome,” I say.
“Hi back. How are you feeling? How’s your dad?”
“Dad is okay, I think. And I’m tired, but I still have to go to a charity event for a few hours,” I say as I apply my signature red lipstick for such events.
“You can’t get out of it? Your dad is in the hospital. I’m sure they would understand.”
“They would, yeah, but I don’t want to disappoint them. I’m the guest of honor, and it would be bad form not to show up. It’s for a good cause.”