by Lindsey Hart
Jesse sighed. “Seriously, mom, you don’t understand. This isn’t what you think. It wasn’t conventional. Even if it was, don’t you think Sam would have sold me out long before now?”
“Jesse!”
“I know, I know.” He put up his hands in a gesture of peaceful defeat. “I’ll admit that’s a low blow. True, but low.”
“It’s not…”
“Mom.” Jesse leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I couldn’t tell you and dad because I didn’t know until last night.”
“What?” his mom gasped. “Are you… like, doing one of those mail order bride things? You didn’t get everything confirmed until yesterday? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“First of all, I think the term, mail order bride, is a little outdated. Secondly, uh- not exactly.” Jesse closed his eyes and hoped his mom could wait until he was done before she jumped in with her two cents. More like four cents or eight cents. Heaven forbid it was ten, because he’d be lucky if he got out of there in time for dinner before her lecture was done and it was just past ten in the morning. “I- well- of course you remember Sydney.”
His mom’s face changed, blanking out. She didn’t understand. Sydney had been gone for nearly ten years and he hadn’t brought her up. She’d added her to his social media, but she didn’t say a word about it when she did it. She’d never mentioned Syd, because she had enough mom sense to realize how painful that was for him.
“Of course I remember,” she said softly. “She was such a nice girl. It’s too bad she moved away to San Francisco and you guys lost touch. I thought you’d be friends forever.”
“Yeah- well- uh- okay. So- in college, the last day of college actually, we went out to celebrate. We took a taxi home since we lived in the same place. Um… things got a little out of hand. Okay, more than a little.”
His mom’s lips formed into a round O of shock and her eyes went wide. Like, really wide. Wide enough that her whole face looked like eyes. Eyes the size of basketballs.
“Okay, mom, I’m not having that conversation,” Jesse rushed on. “You’re my mom and it’s just too weird. So, don’t even try. It was a mistake, what happened. She packed up and left the next day.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. But the night before- well- after it happened- er- I thought it was pretty good for her even though it was the first time for the both of us and I was-”
“Overconfident?”
Jesse nearly choked. “No! God, mom! I was going to say drunk. I was pretty drunk. I told her that we had a bunch of life to live and this was the start of it all, seeing as we were both graduating, and that if she was still single in ten years, I’d marry her myself.”
“And yesterday was…”
“Her thirty-second birthday.”
“And it’s July. It’s been ten years since you graduated.”
“More than ten years,” Jesse agreed. He watched as the light of understanding finally lit up his mom’s eyes.
“Oh. Oh… Jesse… what have you done?”
“What have I done?” he asked, open-mouthed himself. His eyes were probably bigger than basketballs. “What do you mean? She’s the one who wrote it as her damn status. She was calling me out where everyone could see it.”
“But I’m sure not everyone knew what it meant.”
“No, no one did, but it was up there, flashing like a damn billboard for me to see. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore it?”
“Well… maybe. I- well- it’s been ten years. She’s moved on. You moved on. You both had a lot of life in there and now- now you’re telling me that you’re getting married to someone you really don’t even know anymore?”
Jesse was glad he was sitting down. All the wind rushed out of his sails and damn, those sails had been flapping in the breeze of his ungodly optimism. He was pathetic. That was the truth. Moved on? Fuck, he didn’t even know what that felt like. He still felt like that kindergartener who breathed in the sunshine hair of the girl he was completely enamored with. He couldn’t even conceive of a world without Syd in it. He’d lived that world for ten years. He’d always held out hope that one day Syd might move back, or something might work out somehow. It was a one in a million shot and he knew it, but hey, so had his company taking off.
He’d hoped, when he started getting all the media attention, that Syd might hear about him and give him a call. A text. Reach out on social media, but she’d been radio silent.
Nothing.
For years.
Ten years.
“Look, mom, I know this is crazy. I know what it sounds like, but the truth is-”
“You love her.”
He stared at his mom for so long that the silence got uncomfortable. He stared at her until his eyes dried out and he remembered that he had to actually blink.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’ve known that you’ve been in love with that girl since you were old enough to know what that means. I figured that after she left, you’d either go and get her back one day or you’d stay single for the rest of your life.”
“Mom!”
“What? That’s not a bad thing, honey. I’m just saying. I’m your mother. I know you. You might think you’ve hidden it all these years, but I knew. Your dad even knew. Sam probably knew.”
“No! Not Sam.”
“Well, I’m not going to tell him, if he doesn’t know.”
“He used to call her Skydney.”
“He does it just to bother you. He’s always loved you and I think he feels that because he’s the bigger brother, he had to be something you wanted to live up to. It was a lot of pressure for him.”
Jesse, through some galactic sized miracle, managed to stay quiet and not voice his thoughts about how badly Sam had screwed that up. His mom would only sit there and defend him until she sucked up all the oxygen out of the room and they both got blue in the face from lack of air.
“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.
&nb
sp; “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.
Like, with his hand.
Except that she was pretty sure that Jesse was capable of getting a lot more than his hand. He could have any woman he wanted. She hadn’t exactly missed the fact that he was now obscenely rich or that his company for a new brand of moisture wicking underwear for both women and men, had really taken off. As in, his name was on billboards and magazines.
The damn company was called something along the lines of Samson’s tighty unwhities. Or maybe it was Steel Gotch. God. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but it had some stupid name like that, and her brain was hurting. All she wanted to do was go home.
After refusing to pick out a ring, which told her that either Jesse was playing one hell of a prank on her, or that he was dead serious- a horrible thought that she refused to consider because it scared the bejesus out of her, she was taken to a dress store and again, Francis not Francis, told her to pick something she liked and somehow, magically, they’d produce it for her up in Philly.
Yeah. That was so not happening.
“What am I going to do with you?” Francis not Francis asked from the front seat.
He carefully navigated the black SUV back into traffic, away from the dress shop he’d pretty much had to force her into.
“Not drag me around the city hungover as hell,” she ground out, “just for starters.”
“Not my problem. I have my instructions. I’m sticking to them.”
“Yeah, well, how about you get your boss on the phone and we talk this out like normal people?”
“No can do. Orders.”
Sydney sighed, the kind of sigh that filled up the entire SUV. “Well, if you can’t get him on the phone then take me to the stupid jet and let’s go. Let’s waste a fuck ton of resources flying across the country just so I can tell him to his face that this was all a shitty, stupid, drunk mistake.”
The SUV lurched over to the side of the street so fast that cars honked all around them, and Sydney was tossed nearly across the backseat into the opposite window, even with her seatbelt on.
Francis not Francis slammed the vehicle into park and wrenched around in the driver’s seat, his mild-mannered face not nearly so mild mannered any longer. Sydney righted herself and shrank back against her seat. She wished, not for the first time, that she’d brought her Taser with her. She had one hidden in the cupboard in the kitchen, though she was pretty dang sure that procuring one from a pawn shop out the back was seriously not legit.
She didn’t bring it out for just anyone.
Okay, she’d never brought it out.
Once.
There was never anyone special enough to deserve it.
For Francis not Francis and his rich as hell boss, a Jesse she didn’t even know, a guy who got super rich by selling expensive as hell underwear, she might have to make an exception. If she ever saw her home again.
Given the way that Francis not Francis was currently scowling at her with a look so black it could turn even the devil’s heart to stone, it was looking less and less like she was going to come out on top of the whole screwed up situation.
Remind me to throw my phone into the damn toilet before I go out drinking, just so I can’t drunk text. Drunk message. Drunk Post. Whatever.
“Listen here, little miss entitled pants. Wipe that look off your face and keep your hands where I can see them. There is no way in hell that you’re going to pepper spray me.”
Holy shit. The guy was a bloody mind reader. If only he knew she wasn’t thinking about something as innocent as pepper spray. Or even hair spray. She didn’t have anything in her purse but a pack of gum, a few stray tissues probably too wadded up to be of any use, her wallet, her phone, and her house keys.
Sydney shifted uncomfortably in the seat. “Yeah, well, you can’t just come here and take me. My mom will wonder where the heck I’ve gone.”
“You have a cell phone. Get it out and use it.”
“I… you shouldn’t even be here. That shit I wrote online wasn’t serious. I was drunk-”
“I don’t care what you were,” Francis not Francis snarls, and holy shit, he’s pretty scary when he’s not all butlery. Like he might actually be an old bodyguard dude in training. The kind of guy who doesn’t have to be big to kick a person’s ass with some karate action. Or maybe his gun does all the talking.
Okay. Getting a tad bit carried away here.
“What you’re going to do, fancy pants, is text your mother. Tell her what happened. Tell her you’re on your way to reconnect with an old friend and he’s paying your way for the week. I don’t know. Tell her whatever you want. Make something up. Just do it. I don’t care. Maybe you should have thought of that before you started writing all sorts of stupid things online like a careless, inconsiderate, little brat. What you are not going to do is hurt my boss’ feelings.”
“Oh, your poor spoiled boss,” Sydney retorted because she was so past being done with the bossy butler type dude. Turned out he was a grade A asshole. “He has all the money in the world. Cars. Houses. Freakin’ whatever he wants, he can get. I don’t think he’ll be disappointed that a girl he grew up with and never bothered to get in contact with since we graduated, wrote something stupid online in a drunk moment of blacked-out weakness that she doesn’t even remember. Go tell him to find a supermodel. I guarantee she’ll have better tits.”
Sydney swore she almost had Francis not Francis smiling. He somehow hung on to a shred of decorum and turned his near amusement back into a crinkly frown that ruffled his brow and etched the corners of his eyes into deep lines.
“Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“About yourself in third person?”
“No. Never. Look. I just want to go home. Drive me there and leave m
e. Tell your boss that I’m not interested, and I made a mistake. That I was blacked out and I would never, in any sane or rational moment, ever put something like that out there.”
“That’s so? Maybe it was your subconscious talking.”
“Or maybe it was the drink.”
“Maybe it wasn’t.”
“Can you just drive me home?” Sydney crossed her arms over her chest. She pushed out her lips in a petulant pout.
“Nope. You dug yourself in. You’ll dig yourself out. I’m not going to be the one to go back to Philly and break that poor kid’s heart.”
“I’m sure. I’m sure he’d be really heartbroken.”
Something in the back of her aching brain tugged and fuzzed, like the way the hairs stand up on the back of a person’s arms. Her brain was doing that. Minus the hair. And the arm. It felt weird, like the old dude’s words brought something to the surface that she’d never really thought about and didn’t want to begin thinking about.
“I’m taking you to the airport now. You’ll like the jet.”
She let out a growl that had absolutely no effect, as Francis not Francis seemed pretty damn happy with himself. He turned around in his seat, put the SUV in gear and guided them back into traffic.
All she could do was pout.
A few hours later, when the jet landed in Philly, Sydney had to admit that he was right, the old bastard who basically had kidnapped her and not listened to a single word of protest or reason. She had enjoyed the jet. It was pretty sweet flying in a private plane.
She actually resigned herself on the ride over to what she assumed was Jesse’s house. She’d go there, tell him it was all a mistake, make him understand, and demand he fly her back home. She wouldn’t even have to tell her mom that she was gone. She didn’t want to tell her a single thing, because she knew her mom had always really liked Jesse. Like, way too much. More than she even liked her some days.