Mr. Big Love: The Mr. Big Series: Book Two

by Lund, S. E.

  LUKE: That doesn't mean anything. If anyone gives anyone 'the word' in that couple, it's her giving it to him.

  ALEXA: Hmm. Maybe you should come with me.

  LUKE: I can pick you up if you like. I'll call John and we can reschedule our meeting.

  I hesitated.

  ALEXA: No, I don't want you to reschedule your meeting. I can face this alone. You go ahead and meet with John. It's about that joint venture you two were going to go into together, right?

  LUKE: Yes, but we can reschedule until later if you want.

  ALEXA: No, I can handle this myself. I want us to be on good terms. We may not be loving to each other, but we should be able to be civil.

  LUKE: Okay, but if you change your mind, let me know. I'll be happy to brush off John until later today or even tomorrow.

  ALEXA: You're too good to me. I’ll be fine.

  LUKE: Okay. Love you.

  ALEXA: Love you back.

  "You nervous?" Candace asked, while she finished a piece of toast with peach jam and drank her cup of hot tea. "Think Dragon Lady's gonna fry you to a crisp or something?"

  "Yes, I'm nervous as all hell, but I have to do it."

  "That's the spirit. Go there and be your amazing self. She'll have to realize that you're perfect for Luke. If all else fails, tell her that Luke's happy with you and that should be good enough."

  I shrugged, not feeling quite as certain as Candace, but she was always the optimist.

  After I finished cleaning up and we had talked out every possible outcome of the meeting with Mrs. Marshall, I sighed and picked up my bag.

  "I guess I should go face the music," I said and went to slip on my shoes. "Or the dragon fire, whichever the case may be."

  "You'll be fine. Just keep smiling through it all, pretending to agree with everything she says, and then do what you were going to do anyway. That's what I always do. Works for me."

  I bent down and kissed the top of her head while she sat in the recliner and flipped through channels.

  "You always know the right thing to say," I said and squeezed her shoulder. "See you later. Wish me luck."

  "Break a proverbial leg," she replied and blew me a kiss.

  I blew one back and left the apartment, texting the limo service while I did so the driver knew I was ready. When I got to the street, the limo was waiting, the driver at the rear passenger side. He opened the door and tipped his hat.

  "Thank you," I said and entered the limo, still not used to having a driver take me everywhere.

  "Where to, Ma'am?" he asked, glancing back at me in the rear-view mirror.

  I gave him the address on 5th Avenue, and we drove away from the apartment building, merging into a sea of cars that comprised a busy early afternoon in Manhattan. As I watched the passing scenery, my gut was all butterflies and I had an urge to tell the driver to turn around and take me back to the hotel. I'd never been alone with Mrs. Marshall, and I was frankly afraid of her. They called her Dragon Lady for a reason.

  She had a fiery temper and expected to always get her way.

  I dug my fingers into my palm and tried to distract myself. I had to be a grownup and meet with my future mother-in-law. I couldn't avoid her forever.

  Now was as good a time as any.

  The building the Marshalls owned was an end unit on 5th Avenue. It wasn't just one floor. It was all five floors. Eleven bedrooms and eleven bathrooms. A rooftop patio. When the limo stopped in front of the building, I swallowed back my fear and thanked the driver.

  "I'll be about an hour, I expect. Just having lunch with my future mother-in-law," I said and forced a smile.

  The older man wearing a suit and hat, gave me a sad look. "My sympathies." He smiled, and then I finally smiled back.

  "Thanks," I said with a light laugh. "They call her Dragon Lady for a reason."

  "Good luck. Just text me and I'll be outside in five."

  "I will."

  I turned to the front entry way and saw that there was a security camera in the corner over the door and a buzzer that must have been the doorbell. I pressed it and glanced up at the camera, smiling.

  "Hello," I said, feeling strange. "It's me."

  Within a moment, the door buzzed and clicked open. I went through the entrance and every surface was marble. There was a flight of stairs leading to the front door of the apartment. I stood before it, noting the perfect decorating, the rich dark wood of the table beside the door where there was a sign for mail and packages.

  I knocked on the door and waited, my heart beating a little faster.

  When the door opened, I was foolish enough to imagine that Mrs. Marshall would answer to greet me, but of course I was wrong.

  It was a maid. In a uniform.

  She smiled at me. "Alexa?" she asked.

  "Yes. Alexa Dixon. I'm here to visit with Mrs. Marshall."

  "Come in, please," the maid said. "I'm Maria. Mrs. Marshall is busy at the moment but if you'd come in and wait in the living room, she'll be with you in a few moments."

  Maria held the door open and ushered me inside. "Thank you," I said and came farther in. I glanced down at the perfectly shiny hardwood floor and saw a boot tray beside the closet, so I removed my shoes.

  "Please give me your jacket," Maria said and so I did, placing my backpack onto the floor and taking off my coat. She took it with a smile and went to the large mirrored closet in the entrance. I picked my backpack up and waited for Maria to lead me wherever.

  She hung up my jacket and then closed the doors, pointing to the hallway. "Follow me."

  She led the way down a short hallway to an elevator. We got inside and it took us up to the top floor. When the door opened, I almost gasped out loud.

  The entire floor was the living room and it was practically wall to wall windows. Because of the position of the building, the floor afforded a wonderful view of the city.

  "Wow," I said, unable to hold back my comment. "This place is amazing."

  Maria smiled and pointed to the four sofas which were arranged across from each other in a square, with a huge coffee table in the middle.

  "Please have a seat. Lunch will be served in fifteen minutes. Mrs. Marshall is on the phone but will join you shortly."

  "Thank you," I said and went to the window. "I'll just stand here and admire the view for a while."

  Maria nodded and went to the kitchen area, which was off to the side. There was a man in the kitchen arranging food on trays. He was wearing a chef's hat and white jacket.

  She had a maid and a chef...

  The furnishings were very high end -- even little old Country Mouse me could recognize that. Huge paintings covered the interior walls, and there was a grand piano in one corner of the floor. I wondered who played. I could imagine Dana as a young girl sitting at that piano, taking lessons. I walked over to it, drawn to such a beautiful piano. It was an old Steinway, shiny black. There was some music there, and I glanced at it. Reverie by Debussy. The piano keyboard was open, so I touched the keys and played the first bar, struggling to read the music. The sound was fantastic, and so I pulled out the bench and sat down, deciding if Mrs. Marshall was going to be a few moments, why not?

  I hadn't played piano for a long time, years in fact. Neither Candace or I could afford to buy even the cheapest piano and pay someone to haul it up to the apartment, so I went without. Gingerly, I played, searching out the keys from instinct, having taken lessons for several years. The piece was beyond my skill level, but I managed to play the first few bars.

  It was of course at that moment that Mrs. Marshall entered the room.

  "Do you play?" she asked.

  I took my hands off the keyboard and stood up, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

  "Not really," I said. "I took a few years of lessons when I was young, but we moved to a house where we couldn't keep a piano and so my lessons stopped."

  She clicked her tongue. "How sad," she said. "Grant and I always made sure to have a piano so bot
h our children could take lessons."

  "Really?" I said, trying not to sound impertinent. "Did Luke take lessons?"

  "He did, for five years. He was very good, of course. What can you expect, given his mother? She was a prodigy."

  "Well, my parents did provide us with lessons, but we moved to this tiny base and had to live in temporary housing and there was no room for a piano, so..." I shrugged, like it was beyond our family's control, which it was.

  "How unfortunate for you." She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "To be deprived of a music education is so sad. Come. Lunch is ready."

  I pushed the bench back in and followed her back to the dining area where there was a huge dark wood table set with two place settings at one end. Her place was at the head, of course, and I was beside her. Everything looked so high end to me -- the china, the silverware, the crystal glasses. It looked like something in a decorating magazine.

  Not that I read decorating magazines, but I occasionally saw them in the grocery store showing some amazing dining room set up. Of course, with the kind of fortune the Marshalls had, they could afford the very best. Of everything.

  "Have a seat," she said and pointed to my place. I did and sat down, taking the folded cloth napkin off the plate and laying it on my lap. I had the sense that I wasn't going to enjoy myself, even if the food was amazing, which I expected it would be. Everything was just way too formal for me.

  From out of a separate room came another man dressed in a suit and tie. He carried with him a bottle of what looked like white wine, a towel draped over his arm.

  A sommelier.

  I could have shaken my head. Mrs. Marshall was either trying to impress me, or the rich really were different.

  A maid. A chef. And a Sommelier.

  "I have a lovely Vinho Verde for you today, Ma'am," the man said. "It's an Alianca 2017 from Portugal."

  "Oh, thank you, Marcus. That sounds perfect."

  Marcus removed the cork and poured a small amount into Mrs. Marshall's glass. She smelled the wine and then tasted it, nodding appreciatively at Marcus when she swallowed.

  "Very nice. Thank you. It's a very good choice."

  "You're very welcome, Ma'am."

  He proceeded to pour us both a glass. Then, he placed the bottle in an ice bucket on the table beside Mrs. Marshall.

  I would have shaken my head at the production of it all, but didn't, wanting to leave a good impression on Luke's adoptive mother. It wasn't his fault she was a snob.

  Next, the chef and Maria came into the dining room, bringing food with them. The Chef placed a bowl and plate down in front of Mrs. Marshall and Maria placed one in front of me. It was a bowl of some kind of cream soup. Looked like asparagus, since there were two perfectly placed heads of asparagus on top of the soup.

  "Ma'am," the Chef said and turned the bowl, so it was perfectly positioned. "Please enjoy this cream of asparagus soup. Fresh asparagus brought in to the grocers this morning from Sunningdale Farms."

  "Thank you, José," she said.

  Mrs. Marshall watched while Maria placed my bowl down and then smiled.

  "Shall we?"

  I glanced at her, wondering what she meant. Did she want us to say Grace or something?

  I smiled and waited for her to lead. She picked up a spoon and began to eat.

  I sighed with relief and did the same. Mrs. Marshall took a taste of the soup and then made a sound of appreciation.

  "It's delicious, José. Thank you."

  "You're welcome, Ma'am. My pleasure."

  The two left Mrs. Marshall and me alone.

  "This is delicious," I said and smiled at Mrs. Marshall. "In fact, it's the best I've ever had."

  "It is good, isn't it? José is so talented."

  We ate in silence for a moment and then she put her spoon down and took a drink of wine.

  "So, tell me, Alana, about your upbringing. I know your father was in the army, but where were you born?"

  I glanced at her, shocked that she still couldn't seem to remember my name after all this time or the fact that my father was in the Air Force.

  "Well, I was born Alexandria Marie Dixon in Ramstein, Germany, where my father was stationed with the Air Force. After that, we traveled all over the US until he retired and became manager of a small regional airport in Portland."

  I knew she probably already knew everything there was to know about my family, but she was trying to make conversation, even if she did get my name wrong.

  "Oh, yes, of course, Alexandria. Your mother conceived you when they were on their honeymoon in Alexandria, Egypt." She smiled curtly at me. "What a life you must have led, traveling so much. What kind of schools did you attend?"

  "Many small schools, until I did my undergrad at the U of Oregon. Then, I got a scholarship to do my MA and PhD at Columbia, and that's when I moved here. The rest is history, of course."

  She smiled again and Maria came and removed our empty soup bowls.

  "You'll love this next dish," Mrs. Marshall said, leaning forward. "It's a lemon shrimp pasta salad. One of José's best creations. I swear that man is a genius. We're so lucky to have him."

  "Sounds delicious," I said, smiling, glad that we'd moved on to food instead of my less-than-rich upbringing.

  José and Maria brought in our plates and the food did look delicious -- linguine pasta with shrimp and vegetables in a creamy lemon sauce. The aroma wafted up at me when Maria put my plate down and I was impressed.

  "Thank you, José," Mrs. Marshall said with a smile. "It looks delicious."

  José bowed and then he and Maria left us.

  "Please, enjoy," Mrs. Marshall said and waved at my dish. "It's simply the best."

  I picked up my fork, not sure which one to us, and then saw that I'd picked up the wrong one. I quickly put it down and picked up the proper fork.

  "Oh, that one's for dessert, dear," she said and sounded perfectly pleasant correcting my etiquette. "You'll love it. It's a beautiful lemon chiffon cake with fresh whipped cream and strawberries."

  "Sounds fantastic."

  I watched Mrs. Marshall twirl her pasta on the side of her dish and eat, and followed suit, very self-conscious about how I ate. Usually, I'd be cutting my pasta up and making it easier to eat, but I tried my best to eat the proper way. The food was marvelous of course and I complimented it and José's cooking.

  "I've never tasted anything better," I said to Mrs. Marshall.

  "It is good. José makes his own fresh pasta. And those shrimp," she said. "Fresh today. Of course, you and Luke must have had wonderful fresh fish and seafood on your trip."

  "We did," I said and smiled. "We had the very best freshest seafood I've ever eaten."

  We talked for a while about the trip and I told her a few stories about the rough seas we'd seen when we crossed the Pacific. She made appropriate faces of concern and interest. I thought everything was going so well.

  Then, when we had finished oohing and ahhing about the lemon strawberry chiffon cake with the delicious whipped cream icing, and when coffee was brought out to us, we moved into the living room.

  She sat on one of the sofas, and I sat on the one beside her so that we weren't directly facing each other.

  "This is such a magnificent view," I said and sighed. "It's a real Manhattan view. What I always imagined when I considered moving here."

  "It is, isn't it? We have another house in Yonkers, but we like being in the city. We converted this from multiple apartments to a single apartment about thirty years ago. It's perfect for us. We can have family and guests say with us whenever we want. There was more than enough room here for Luke and Dana growing up. One day, I imagine this will be Luke's or Dana's."

  I sat digesting my delicious food, drinking coffee and feeling excited that finally, we seemed to be getting along well.

  Then, she raised the real reason she invited me to the apartment for lunch.

  "My dear," she said and placed her cup onto her saucer. She loo
ked at me directly, her gaze intense. "I hope you can see the kind of life Luke and Dana had growing up is nothing like the one you had."

  "You're right," I said, a sudden knot in my gut. "It's completely different from mine."

  "That's why it's such a mistake for you two being together. You don't belong in this world, Alexa. You'll only hold Luke back. I invited you here so you could see how wrong you are for him. Since he met you, he's given up his dreams of going to space. Can you not see that he's just on the rebound from his broken heart? You're just a consolation prize right now, and he'll move on as soon as he recognizes it."

  "You're wrong," I said, my heart pounding. "Luke loves me. He said that his desire to go to space was because he was running away from his heartbreak. Meeting me made him realize he didn't really want to leave Earth."

  "I'm sure he thinks that, but in truth, he's making a huge mistake. You're not our kind of people, Alexa. If Luke marries you, he'll be disinherited."

  "What?" I sat there, gape-mouthed.

  "That's right. If he marries you, he'll be out of the will. He won't inherit a cent. Surely you can see that would be a terrible thing."

  "It's a terrible thing that you'd disinherit him simply because he wants to marry me." I stood up, too upset to stay there and listen. "And now, I think I've seen and heard enough. Thank you for the delicious lunch."

  She didn't get up.

  "Think about what I said. Luke will resent you if you persist and he loses all that money. I'm sure he could do an awful lot in the space industry with the money he'd get from us when we die. Don't be a burden to him. Don't make him regret marrying you."

  I grabbed my backpack and put on my shoes.

  I didn't say another word.

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke

  While Alexa was out at Candace's making her breakfast, I got up and took a run around the park, needing the exercise to work off the alcohol I drank the previous night. When I got a text from Alexa, I was surprised that she agreed to go alone to visit with my mother.

  Even I didn't want to do that, but she was stubborn.

  I had a shower, packed up my laptop and took my briefcase downstairs to the car. I was going to meet with John at a restaurant we both used to eat at when we were in college, thinking up plans for Chatter. It was like old times and I felt happy to be free as a bird, able to do whatever I desired. I got us a booth at the back of the restaurant and waited for him to arrive, ordering a cup of coffee while I waited. I went over my notes on the latest business we were thinking of starting together -- a software company that would allow for better communications between astronauts while on space walks.