“I don’t know how this is going to work out. I sent someone for her this morning, to pick her up and- uh- take her shopping then bring her here.”
“You what? Oh my god, Jesse, that’s not the way to go about it! Throwing money at her.”
He found himself shrugging. “Yeah, well…” he stared down at his hands, which were clasped between his legs. “I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t sure how to take that after ten years of silence. I thought maybe just showing up on her doorstep would be too much.”
“But wining and dining her and giving her a ride in the company jet might what? Soften her towards you? Impress her? Give her a taste of what her life with you could be when she’s taken care of? She’s not exactly that type of woman.”
“Ugh mom!” Jesse pushed off the desk and started to pace the room anxiously. At this rate, he was going to be the one to use up all the oxygen and they hadn’t exactly installed those masks that came down from the ceiling like they did on planes to rectify the problem.
His mom just stared at him with those huge brown eyes. She blinked a few times. Rapidly. A sheen of moisture misted them over and he groaned.
“Please, mom. This is going to be fine. I just need you to keep it under wraps until I get Syd here and I talk to her and find out what she meant. That message could have just been a joke. I don’t think so though. She wouldn’t find that overly funny. I just… I need to get her here and figure it out before I can tell you anything else. I didn’t even want to tell Sam, but I was so shocked last night and he was being an asshole, as usual, so I threw it in his face and then I promised him to secrecy, but he couldn’t even do that for more than a few hours.”
His mom stood slowly and stalked over. She wrapped him up in a tight hug that he had to stand there and take, and eventually reciprocate since he didn’t want her to burst into tears. He just hoped no one was walking by, because seriously, how much would anyone respect him then?
Thankfully his mom pushed back and gathered up her purse, a pretty clear indication she was leaving.
“Call me tomorrow,” she commanded before she turned and walked to the door. Of course, she couldn’t leave it at that. She wouldn’t be his mom if she could. “And come around to the house for breakfast tomorrow. You’re looking too thin. Maybe if you actually have my waffles for the first time in ages, you’ll understand why your brother couldn’t keep it a secret when I questioned why he was acting so strange.”
“I almost feel sorry for him,” Jesse quipped.
His mom shot him the mom look, the kind that could wither even the stoutest, bravest, toughest soul. “Tomorrow,” she flung at him before she made her grand exit.
The only thing Jesse could do was wait until that glass door shut. He needed a minute to himself and he wasn’t going to get it sitting at his desk where everyone walking by could see him. He could have left, but he didn’t want to risk getting ambushed in the hall when he tried to make his escape.
Instead, he stalked over to his desk, ducked down, and crawled underneath. He took his cell with him and flipped it open, expecting a few messages.
There was nothing yet.
Which tied his stomach, his chest, and even though he didn’t want to admit it- his heart, into knots. Syd apparently wasn’t ready to go quietly.
He hadn’t really expected anything less, but still, a guy had a right to hope.
He had to give his head a shake when he realized how screwed up all of this was. He was willing to admit that blabbing to Sam last night might have been a huge mistake. As in, he’d fucked up royally. Yeah. That royally needed to be there.
He was going to have to wait a few hours until Syd arrived at his house before he’d get to find out just how badly. And now that his mom knew?
He was pretty dang sure he was never going to hear the end of it.
Ever.
CHAPTER 4
Sydney
After she’d dressed and agreed to go with Francis not Francis, or Jeeves- whatever, just so that he’d finally leave her in peace, Sydney was driven to a ring shop. She was told to pick something out that she liked, which she refused to do. Francis not Francis didn’t like that. She’d hoped to convince him, by being on her worst behavior, to take her home and tell his boss to go fuck himself.