She blinked, mumbled something, then finished her second glass of wine.
It was a victory, and he relaxed, setting into the dinner, enjoying being across from Abby even when she seemed nervous and distracted, even when he also wished they’d stayed home.
“We won’t be able to keep Jacinda permanently, but she’s recommended another nanny – her cousin, actually. I suggested she contact you to arrange an interview.”
“We don’t need a nanny.”
“It doesn’t hurt to have a back-up.”
“Did you have a nanny?”
The question was so fast, he didn’t have time to prepare for it. He shifted in his seat a little.
“Gray?”
“Sometimes.”
She furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”
He gripped the stem of his wine glass, the cool of it going some of the way to counteracting the sudden, surprising heat that panic had doused him in. “When my mother needed a nanny, she arranged one. Usually that coincided with her latest marriage.”
“Latest marriage? How many were there?”
“A few.” The answer was deliberately a shut down, but Abby leaned closer, her eyes scanning his face so he felt that electricity hum again, and this time, it had nothing to do with desire.
“I guess she’s an optimist then.”
It was the perfect statement to end the conversation. He could simply grunt or smile and let it go. But instead, he found himself responding, as though he actuallywantedto talk about this. “My mother is physically unable to be alone. After my father died – whom I believe she did truly love – she was married again in under a year.”
“I’ve heard that having loved once, you’re more likely to love again.”
“Perhaps. But with my mother, it was as I said. She hated to be alone. She derived her worth from partnership.”
Abby frowned. “Why?”
“Great question.”
And suddenly, hewantedto tell her about his mom. It felt important that she understand. “She chose men who made her feel good. Men who flattered her and appeared to adore her.”
Her eyes dug into his from where she sat, across the table. “But did they love her?”
“Hard to say. Maybe. I was a child.”
She tilted her face thoughtfully. “But you suspect not?”
He took a sip of his own wine. “I think they loved her money.” The quip felt flat. A line furrowed between her brow.
“Why?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Abby toyed with her napkin. “Your mom’s money isn’t connected to your business?”
“Max and I went out on our own when we were still teenagers. We wanted more…stability…than our mother could provide.”
She lifted her brows. “Really?”
“She was very wealthy, but successive marriages whittled down that wealth. We watched her make bad decisions, be cavalier with her future, her lifestyle, and just decided we didn’t want that for ourselves. Actually, I don’t know if we ever made a decision, it was sort of something that just changed in both of us, so that as soon as we could, we set up Fortescue Inc.”