Because He Watches Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Nine) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

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Because He Watches Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Nine) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) Page 29

by Hannah Ford


  “I don’t care about the money,” she told him, meeting his gaze and holding it. Her chin lifted in the defiant way that she had when someone doubted her fighting spirit.

  “I know,” he said, stroking her cheek. “But I do care about the company I’ve spent my life building. I’m not going to lose it all now.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  He sighed. “Just be you. And try to understand that I’m under some stress right now, especially with my mother’s unannounced visit. The last thing I need is that woman getting under my skin and having my mind twisted in knots. I need to be at the top of my game.”

  “I won’t let her hurt you,” Nicole said. She squeezed his hand again.

  “I believe you’d be quite the match for her, actually,” Red grinned. “And she might be just arrogant enough to underestimate you.”

  Nicole smiled. “Everyone underestimates me, I’m used to it.”

  ***

  “So lovely to meet you,” were the first words out of Red’s mother’s mouth as Nicole and Red greeted her at JFK Airport, while Red’s limo driver lugged two large suitcases to the trunk of the car.

  Nicole was surprised at how different the woman seemed from how she’d imagined her to look and act. Based on Red’s descriptions, Nicole had thought his mother would look severe, deranged, like someone from a horror movie.

  Instead, she found his mother to look and act a lot like any normal mom. In fact, she hugged Nicole warmly right away. Nicole could smell her flowery perfume as the two of them embraced. “So nice to meet you,” Nicole said.

  “Please call me Erica,” his mother replied brightly.

  She didn’t even look old enough to be Red’s mother, Nicole thought. She was dark haired but fairer skinned than Red, and although her hips were wide, Erica Jameson seemed to be in very decent shape for a woman in her late fifties.

  The biggest telltale sign of her age was the slight sagging of the skin around her cheeks and chin, and the wrinkles in her neck. But they were small details, and the fact was, Erica looked fantastic for any woman at any age. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a ruffled white blouse, and a black Gucci purse was slung over one shoulder.

  Red gave his mother a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Nicole could sense his discomfort from the way his shoulders were hunched and the stiffness of his jaw. He’d been very quiet and closed off on the ride to the airport, but Nicole didn’t blame him.

  She’d seen him ignoring his buzzing phone as texts and phone calls came in—he made a comment to her about waiting for Monday to deal with business. But Nicole knew it was killing him to have to worry about both his mother’s visit and the troubles with his company at the same time.

  Nicole just kept smiling and put on a brave face, even though deep down the fear and anxieties were still there for her. She didn’t like seeing Red in so much distress.

  “I’m so excited to spend time with both of you,” Erica said, as the driver opened the door for them to climb inside.

  “Great,” Red said, his voice displaying little enthusiasm. “We’ll get you back to the house, you can take some time to recover from traveling and then I’ve got a wonderful restaurant booked for an afternoon bite to eat.”

  “Actually, I’ve made us other plans,” Erica said, giving Nicole a wry grin and a wink.

  Red’s face turned grave. “Other plans?”

  The driver turned around in his seat. “Where to, Mister Jameson?”

  Erica answered for him, leaning forward in her seat. “West 45th Street.”

  The driver glanced at Red, who merely gave a slight nod and sat back, his lips pressed together tightly. Nicole tried to take his hand but he moved it to his knee instead.

  “Is it a surprise or can I ask where you’re taking us?” Nicole said, trying to sound chipper.

  Erica began rummaging in her purse. “I hope I didn’t lose them…” she muttered, as the limousine started moving slowly forward into traffic.

  “Lose what?” Red asked.

  Erica looked up at him with a little grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  Just then his phone began buzzing in his pocket, but Red ignored it.

  “Aren’t you going to answer that?” his mother asked.

  “No, I wasn’t planning to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m trying to give me attention to you, and to my fiancé.”

  “That’s nice, honey. But still, I think you should answer. It could be an important business call.”

  He folded his arms. “What were you looking for in your purse?” he asked.

  Erica smiled, once again giving Erica what felt like a secret look, as if they were already the best of friends. “I’m just going to wait a little longer before I ruin the surprise. I think you’ll both enjoy it, though.”

  Red turned and stared out the window of the limousine. The way he looked now reminded Nicole of that horrible first night they’d spent together in the mansion, when he’d suddenly become strange and distant from her. She’d seen him sitting in his chair in the study, staring out the window and drinking as if he’d just heard a friend had died. That was the same night he’d been so cruel to her, and later, he’d thrown plates and glasses all over the dining room.

  Nicole broke herself from her morbid reverie. “Miss Jameson—I mean Erica—what do you do for work?” she asked, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence that had descended over the car.

  “I’m a nurse,” Red’s mother said.

  “Oh, wow, that’s amazing.” Nicole meant it, too—she deeply admired caregivers and teachers, people who spent their lives dedicated to helping others first.

  “I’ve been a nurse since I was twenty-six years old and haven’t stopped yet, even with a son who’s made sure I never have to work another day in my life if I don’t want to.” Erica smiled at Red.

  “She’s a very hard working lady,” Red said, his gaze landing everywhere but his mother. “Taught me a lot about having a great work ethic.”

  Erica waved his comments off. “I’m nothing special, really,” she said to Nicole. “I’m just a mother and a nurse. A simple person, really—always have been.”

  “I think you’re sweet,” Nicole told her.

  His mother looked surprised. “Sweet? Did you hear that, my darling son? Your wife-to-be thinks I’m sweet. I haven’t heard that term used to describe me very often.”

  Nicole shrugged, feeling strangely embarrassed. She was trying to figure out if Erica made her uncomfortable because of the stories Red had told her, or because of something that Nicole sensed about the woman.

  Red patted Nicole’s leg. “Nicole sees the best in everyone.”

  “You do, don’t you?” Erica said, her dark eyes locking on Nicole’s.

  “I try to.”

  The older woman nodded sagely. “It seems to me that you’ve been given a gift, darling. A positive outlook is worth more than all the money in the world.”

  Red grimaced a little, just a flash—but Nicole noticed it. Erica, however, just nodded her head, as if agreeing with herself. Then she began rummaging through her purse again.

  The driver glanced at them in his rearview mirror. “Excuse me, ma’am, but what address on West 45th?”

  Erica closed her eyes. “Oh, I forget the exact address. Driver, do you know where the Lyceum Theatre is?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Red stared at his mother. “The Lyceum Theatre? Why are we going there?”

  She didn’t answer him. After rummaging a bit more rummaging, she gave a shout of happiness. “Here they are! I was starting to think I’d left them at home. That’s what I get for carrying a purse filled with junk.” Erica pulled three tickets out of her bag, somewhat bent and battered.

  Red took them from her. “Venus in Fur,” he muttered, reading the tickets, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of it. What kind of play is it?”

  “It’s g
otten rave reviews,” his mother said. Then she looked at Nicole. “Are you a fan of the theatre?”

  Nicole wasn’t sure what to say. She’d been to Legally Blonde and Wicked, but somehow she wasn’t sure that was the kind of theatre that Erica was talking about. “I’d love to see a show,” she said, not sure how else to answer.

  “You see, Red? This girl’s a keeper. Up for anything.” She winked at Nicole slyly.

  Red handed the tickets back to his mother. “I wish you’d at least mentioned the idea to me beforehand.”

  “You’d just have come up with an excuse not to go. I know my son too well.”

  Red looked at her. “And I know my mother too well. What’s the play about?”

  “It’s about relationships,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I thought it to be very appropriate subject matter, given your recent announcement.” Erica took the tickets from him and put them back in her purse. “Not that you bothered telling me about your engagement. But you let the world know through the tabloids, as usual, so I suppose I should be thrilled. And I am thrilled.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Red said, sighing. He looked weary already, Nicole thought.

  “Not at all,” Erica said. “I don’t dwell on the past like some do. I’m just happy to be here with you two lovebirds now.”

  Watching Red interact with his mother, Nicole felt as though she were watching a bullfight. Erica, the matador, was poking Red with her dagger, leaving one hole after another, and yet Red was still on his feet, staggering. You hardly noticed the wounds, they were so small, and Erica was so fast in delivering the blows. Yet they wounds were there, if you looked closely enough.

  Nicole felt helpless to intervene. This was a dynamic that went all the way back to the beginning of Red’s life, and the interplay between the two of them was far too subtle and confusing for her to get in the middle of, especially after just meeting the woman.

  At the same time, she could see Red was already worn out after just a few minutes in his mother’s company. Nicole took his hand in her own, even though he resisted at first. She squeezed firmly to let him know he could count on her.

  He gave her a squeeze in return and they exchanged a knowing smile.

  Nicole noticed that Erica was watching them with an enigmatic expression. The older woman smiled in a robotic way, her gaze darting down to where Red and Nicole’s hands were clasped.

  The silence in the limo was getting uncomfortable again, but thankfully they arrived at the Lyceum Theatre. Just above the entrance, Nicole saw the title of the play in big bold letters. VENUS IN FUR.

  It was such a strange title, she thought. It told you absolutely nothing about the play itself.

  Red instructed the driver to be back and waiting for them in an hour and a half. And then they were heading into the theatre, which was already bustling with people. The Lyceum seemed like an older, more intimate setting than what Nicole remembered when she’d attended Wicked and Legally Blonde. The stage seemed small, and the seats were tinier and closer together.

  They were escorted to the front row of the balcony.

  Erica seemed to think it was a wonderful view, reminding her of the opera, she said.

  They had the playbills now, which was the first time Nicole or Red had a chance to find out what this show was even about. When she read the description, Nicole had to stifle a gasp. The first thing she saw was that it was called one of the “sexiest” shows in history. And the last thing she wanted to do was go to a sexy show with Red Jameson’s mother.

  Then she saw that the play was loosely based on an “erotic novel.”

  Her eyes widened. Next to her, she could feel Red stiffening with frustration as he also read the playbill. He turned to his mother, sitting to his right. “What kind of show did you bring us to?” he hissed.

  “It’s gotten rave reviews.”

  “You said that already.”

  “Have you turned into a prude, my dear boy? With all of your wild parties and the stories in the tabloids about you and your young lady friends, I never imagined you’d blush like a schoolgirl over a racy stage play.”

  “It’s rude to bring people to a thing like this without at least asking them,” Red told her.

  Nicole heard Erica’s tittering laugh. “Don’t act so innocent, Red,” his mother said. “You could probably have written this yourself, using your own memoirs.”

  “What are you trying to insinuate?” he said, his voice rising ever so slightly.

  “Nothing. I’m just poking fun. Please don’t make a scene.”

  “Fine.” He turned away from Erica, crossed his legs and grabbed Nicole’s hand in his own, leaning in and whispering. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be, it’s fine,” she replied, smiling and kissing his cheek.

  And then the play began. Someone came out on stage and asked everyone to turn off their cell phones, because cell phones would actually be used on stage during the performance.

  A moment later the curtain came up and it started.

  Nicole was surprised to find that the play was actually enjoyable. At first, she wasn’t sure what to think of it. The entire performance consisted of just two characters and very little in the way of props or scenery to transport you into the world they inhabited. And yet, through their amazing chemistry and dialog, the two actors managed to do just that.

  Although she was truly enjoying the play, Nicole was all too aware that just a seat away, her future mother-in-law was watching this very same piece.

  Venus in Fur was spicy, it was erotic and it got psychologically dark near the end.

  The fact that the play centered around sadomasochism, and the desires of a man to be either victimized by a woman, or to enslave a woman—did not go over Nicole’s head. She knew that Red’s mother had intentionally chosen this play to send a message, to push her son’s buttons. Perhaps she’d meant to let them know that she was all too aware of Red’s extra curricular activities in the bedroom.

  Whatever the case, Nicole decided not to let the woman get to her. Nicole actually liked this damn play, whether she was supposed to or not.

  On the other hand, Red was positively fuming. Nicole could feel the heat and anger radiating off of him throughout the show. He was sitting in his seat, unmoving, unsmiling, simply waiting for it to end.

  And when it ended, he got up and started for the exit without comment. When they got outside to where the limousine waited, Erica asked him if he’d enjoyed the play.

  “I was blown away,” he said with obvious sarcasm. “How did you know I’d love it so much?”

  She shrugged. “A mother’s intuition.”

  “I thought they called it manic depression these days,” he snapped.

  Erica ignored his cutting remark. “Did Venus in Fur give you and Nicole any interesting new ideas?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow. “It must be difficult to keep things fresh after years of playing Don Juan with every available woman from here to Los Angeles.”

  Red was about to retort, but Nicole cut him off. “I’m so glad you brought us to see Venus in Fur, Erica. It was a wonderfully acted play. I was riveted.”

  Erica sniffed. “Such a nice young girl. Red should count himself lucky to have snagged you.”

  Nicole squeezed his hand again, letting him know he didn’t need to defend either of them to his crazy mother. This seemed to calm him slightly. He gestured to the car. “Should we head back to the house now?”

  “I am getting a little tired,” his mother admitted, relenting and getting into the car. When the three of them were inside, Erica patted her stomach. “I didn’t realize pornography would make me so hungry. Do you find it works up the appetite, Nicole?”

  Nicole smiled back at her. “I don’t really understand the question.”

  “She’s very coy, isn’t she?” Erica said.

  Red didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed and the color was blooming in his cheeks.

  Nicole felt herself getting an
gry, mostly on his behalf. The more time she spent with Erica, the more she realized what he’d had to deal with his entire life. “I’m not being coy, Erica,” Nicole said, after a moment. “I truly didn’t know what you were asking me.”

  “Never mind. I’m so glad we all enjoyed the show. I was certain the two of you would relate to the material, and I’m trying to be more open-minded these days.”

  “Enough,” Red said in a low growl.

  “What?” His mother looked shocked at his tone.

  “I said, enough of that talk.”

  She opened her mouth again, but from the look on Red’s face, seemed to reconsider. Instead, she laid her head back and closed her eyes, folding her hands on her lap. “Some people can be so touchy,” she muttered, as the car headed for Connecticut.

  ***

  “I want her gone,” Red said, when the two of them finally had some privacy. They were in the master bedroom, and Red was changing into a pair of dark Armani pants and a white dress shirt.

  Nicole was about to go to the master bathroom for a nice shower. But Red was suddenly in the mood to vent, after a sustained uncomfortable silence that he’d maintained the entire ride home. He’d spoken but once or twice, telling his mother where her room was located and helping her with her things.

  “Didn’t you say you’re leaving for Germany tomorrow morning anyway?” Nicole reminded him, running a hand through her snarled hair, trying to untangle it a little.

  “I don’t want to listen to any more of her little digs. Didn’t you hear her?” he asked, buttoning his shirt. His eyes were blazing.

  “I did.”

  “And taking us to Venus in Fur as a little snide comment on our sexual proclivities?”

  Nicole laughed.

  Red stared at her. “You think it’s funny.”

  “A little bit. I liked the play, I didn’t care what your mother thought it implied about me.”

  “You haven’t dealt with her yet—not really. This is just the beginning,” he fumed, fixing his cuffs. “Once she senses your weakness, she’ll chip at you and chip at you. She never stops, it’s in her nature to pick at other people’s wounds.”

 

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