“That’s not a problem,” I say airily.
“Try to have it catered, so it doesn’t look like your usual Chinese takeout disaster,” he says dryly.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Evie
The moment Justin leaves, Nate asks me into his office. I go in, my tablet ready.
“Yes, Mr. Sterling?” I ask, in an extra-prim voice I don’t care for and would normally never use. It’s just that I feel like I have to in order to ensure we maintain a proper professional distance.
“My mother’s coming to Los Angeles. Right now.”
“She’s what?” I thought I wouldn’t have to meet anybody from his family until later, at the party Barron was talking about. I was planning on figuring out a way to gracefully get out of it somehow. Maybe smearing my face with radioactively glowing biohazard material the day before.
“She’s expecting dinner tonight. So call a caterer, and tell them to make it something fancy. Maybe rack of lamb or something.”
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I’m not ready to meet Nate’s mom. Not even a little. And dinner? At home?
“Is she going to stay with you, too?” I ask, my voice thick with panic. I can’t act like we’re living together when we’re not if she’s actually going to be there.
“Yes.”
No, no, no! “Did you tell her we’d like to have some time to ourselves? That’s what newly married couples do.”
“She hasn’t seen me in a long time, and I think she wants to make sure I’m okay.”
“You’re okay?” What does the woman think I’m going to do
to him?
“I have a history of dating women who are a little, uh, unstable.” Nate scratches his chin.
Oh. My. God. I guess his mother must know about Georgette. But really, does she have to stay with us? Doesn’t she know most new wives don’t want to share a roof with their mothers-in-law?
Before I can vocalize my objections, Nate adds, “You should hire some movers and get your things over to the house. At least your clothes and daily stuff.”
“Right now?” I run a hand over my hair. Can we hire movers so fast? But I don’t have that much stuff. Most of the furniture is Kim’s, and my bed would look out of place in his Malibu mansion. “What about Kim? I can’t abandon her. She’s my roommate.”
“I’m not saying you should abandon your roommate. But do you want my mom to walk into my place with none of your things around? She’s going to wonder, and believe me, she doesn’t miss much.”
Of course not. A woman doesn’t marry into this family and raise two boys by missing things.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I blurt out. “She won’t be spending her time in the…master bedroom.”
Nate closes his eyes briefly. “No, I don’t think she will. But sex is something we need to discuss.”
My face flames. I’m so not ready to discuss this out loud—in his office, of all places—when I can barely wrap my head around the fact that we’re married! “We already did.”
He raises both eyebrows like he can’t recall this discussion actually happening.
“In the car. On the way to work,” I remind him. “Obviously I’m not going to do it with you if we’re going to be finished with each other in six weeks.”
“Even if we are only going to be married for six weeks, you can’t possibly expect me to go without for that long.”
Oh, please. Of all the… But then I remember the statue in his living room. In the pose I saw—the sausage one—the guy’s face is twisted, as though he’s in some intense agony. Well, I guess having it turgid for too long would be uncomfortable, but…
“Can’t you just…um”—I swallow, debating how to say it without feeling awkward and embarrassed—“…self-serve?”