“I know you do the one-night stands, Mason. But that doesn’t mean I have to,” I said.
“I don’t even give a shit about that anymore! Yes. I do one-night stands. I love them. I think settling down is bullshit for many reasons. But at this point, I’d just settle for you screwing someone other than her,” he said.
“Well, I don’t feel that way. Setting aside the fact that I feel like I’m too old to be out there partying and finding these women who want to strip down, I also don’t feel like having random weekend flings with other women.”
“Are you even hearing yourself? You still sound like that lovesick twenty-year-old who got fucked well at a party and couldn’t get his dick back,” he said.
“Have you ever stopped to consider the fact that maybe I don’t like one-night stands in the first place? That I never did?”
“With as much pussy as you licked in your dorm room bed beside me while I was sleeping your freshman year of college? I highly doubt that,” he said.
“You’re thirty years old, Mason. I’m twenty-eight. I have my own multibillion-dollar company. I did nothing at random. I didn’t pick my investors at random. I didn’t build my headquarters in a random city. I don’t even eat random food. Why the hell would I want to screw around with random women?” I asked.
“I think you’ve officially lost your mind.”
“And I think you’re still stuck in college.”
“Is that why we haven’t seen each other? You think I’m too immature for you now that you’re some hotshot billionaire?”
“No. I haven’t seen you because I’ve been too busy acting like an adult.”
Mason snickered. “Well, just be careful with her. I know what I saw. On several occasions. Olivia cheated on you then, and she’ll do it now.”
As my drink was set down in front of me, I decided to down it as fast as I could and get out of there. I didn’t want to open up old wounds, I didn’t want to hash this out with Mason, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be reminded of the pictures he sent me.
The pictures of her smiling with another man in a damn coffee shop.
9
Olivia
“Mom?”
“Is that my daughter I hear?” she called out.
“Olivia? That you?” Bernard yelled across the house.
“I didn’t know he was going to be here,” I said.
“‘He’ has a name, you know,” my mother said as she came around the corner.
“Sorry. Just been a long week,” I said, sighing.
“Anything I can do to help?” Bernard asked as he poked his head out of the kitchen.
I hugged my mom close, eyeing Bernard carefully as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him. He was a nice enough guy. He had made my mom happy for the past two years, and he was kind, I guessed. But I’d known my mom as single her entire life. My younger brother had taken to Bernard almost immediately. There was something about him I didn’t like, though. Something about the way he interacted with my mother that made me question his motives sometimes.
The smile he put on my mother’s face was undeniable. But there was something in my gut I couldn’t shake.
“I’m so glad you’re here, honey. Thank you for coming over,” my mother said.
“Of course, Mom. You sounded a little frantic on the phone, though. Is everything okay?” I asked.
Bernard walked down the hallway, standing at my mother’s side. “Your mother got a very interesting phone call this morning. It’s had her in a tizzy all day.”
“Well, sometimes my mother gets like that,” I said defensively.
“Sweetheart, not today. I need you to listen to me, okay?” my mother asked.
“Who called, Mom? What’s going on?” I asked.
She looked over at Bernard before drawing in a deep breath. “It’s your father.”
I shrugged. “What about him?”
“He’s looking to get in touch with you,” my mother said.
I felt my world tilt. I felt myself swaying on my feet. Bernard reached out and gripped my arms as my mother took my hand. They both led me into the living room and sat me down on the couch, Bernard with one of my hands in his and my mother cupping my other hand.
“My father? You spoke to my father?” I asked.
“Actually, we’ve been speaking for a few months now,” my mother said.
I whipped my eyes over to her. “What?”
“Hear her out, Olivia,” Bernard said.
“That’s what I’m doing,” I bit out.
“When your father originally called me out of the blue some months ago, I was adamant about him not contacting you,” my mother said.
“Good. Because I don’t want to talk with him,” I said.
“But he’s been calling regularly since then, and he really does want to see you,” my mother said.
“See me? Hell no,” I said.
“Olivia—”
“Bernard, this doesn’t concern you,” I said.