“I’ll let you choose the restaurant,” Caroline added with a deceptively sweet edge to her tone.
“There’s a diner on Seventh Street. I’ll text you the address.” There was no point in delaying the inevitable. The weighty black AmEx in her wallet solidified Jamie’s fate. At least this way, she would have home field advantage.
One o’clock rolled around and despite a successful ambush of the school board director, Jamie felt as if she was the one being exposed for taking money from underprivileged children. White strips of paper laid discarded in a heap on the table, the result of her nervously twisting and untwisting a stack of napkins into shreds.
It was lunch time; the diner was overrun with blue collar workers looking for a quick and hearty meal before heading back out to reality. The bell chimed and Jamie’s eyes flew to the door. Caroline blew in like a tornado, turning heads with each swing of her Chanel clad legs. She walked with the determination of a runway model, a side effect of being told she was perfect her entire life. She oozed confidence and wealth, sticking out amongst the working-class crowd like a sore thumb.
Annette wrinkled her nose, dropping a Shirley Temple on the table. “I take it that’s her?” she asked out the side of her mouth.
“Unfortunately,” Jamie said, shrinking down into the booth. As much as she dreaded this little family reunion, she was most nervous about Annette meeting Caroline. She was even more terrified of how her mother would react to Annette.
“There you are, James. When I suggested you pick the restaurant, I wasn’t expecting something so, quaint.” Pulling the designer sunglasses from her face, Caroline turned her head from left to right, taking in the black and white checkered linoleum walls covered with yellowing photographs in glossy black frames. Her nose was turned up so high her head might as well have been in the clouds.
“They have good food.” Jamie flashed Annette an apologetic glance, before smiling tightly at her mother.
“But do they have vodka?” Ah yes, vodka, Caroline’s main source of sustenance, but Jamie understood her mother’s semi-alcoholic tendencies. If she were married to a man like her father, she’d be a day drinker too.
Annette shifted, placing her body between Caroline and Jamie in a protective stance. “I’m afraid not,” she supplied, her back ram-rod straight.
“Of course, not.” Caroline narrowed her eyes. Jamie could see the wheels spinning in her mother’s mostly empty brain as she tried to figure out who the imposing force shielding her from her daughter was. “I’ll have water then, flat, as I supposed sparkling isn’t an option either.”
“I can drop an Alka Seltzer in it if you’d like,” Annette shrugged.
Jamie choked back a laugh as Caroline shot Annette an unamused look. This was why she insisted on meeting here. Annette was a momma bear through and through. Her presence confirmed that Jamie made the right choice. Money wasn’t everything. It didn’t help her when she’d lost her baby. It didn’t save her when she wanted to kill herself, and it didn’t teach her how to love and be loved.
Caroline couldn’t intimidate her or make her feel less than, not at the diner, not with her guardian angel standing watch.
“You wanted to see me, Mother?” Jamie asked as her mother slid cautiously into the booth.
“Yes, James.” Caroline folded her hands on the table. A look that could only be described as sheer and unadulterated panic flashed through her eyes before she quickly lifted her palms, grimacing at the ever-present layer of syrup that now coated her delicate skin. Jamie should have warned her, then again, this was more fun. “This place is disgusting,” her mother shuddered.
“They have great pie.”
Jamie’s mother tilted her head to the side in that way she sometimes did when she was biting her tongue. It was for show. Caroline didn’t have a filter and Jamie knew it was a matter of time before whatever awful thing she was thinking came out of her mouth. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Jamie didn’t have to wait long.
“Do you think pie is the best idea, James?” Caroline held her hands up in surrender. “Look, I know curvy is trendy, but you need to be careful. Remember Grandma Manning? The women on your father’s side of the family are a little more on the round side, which means you have to work twice as hard to stay fit. It’s genetics.”
Leave it to Jamie’s mom to find a way to use science to call her fat. It was like she had a PhD in how to chip away at Jamie’s self-esteem. “Mother, I am perfectly healthy and fit. I refuse to starve myself because then, I’d be as unhappy as you.” The ridiculousness of the situation hit her in that moment. She was worried this entire thing was some grand ploy to lure her into Jared’s arms, when in reality, it was just another way for Caroline to dig her claws into her daughter. Jamie stood to leave.
“It’s not so bad,” Caroline said with a shrug, “you get use to it.”
Her words momentarily stunned Jamie, causing her to plop back down into the booth. Absently, she wondered if her mother was talking about the being hungry part or the unhappy part.
“Both,” Caroline said, answering her unspoken thought.
Annette came back with the water and somehow, Jamie managed to pick her jaw up off the sticky table.
Do not pity her.
Do not pity her.
Do not pity her.
She chanted. Caroline wasn’t a victim of circumstance. She chose Archer just as much as he’d chosen her. They were a match made in elitist heaven.
“Have you ladies decided what you want to eat?” Annette asked.
Jamie ordered a salad, to keep the peace, and Caroline wrinkled her nose, informing everyone within earshot of her plan to go to a real restaurant when they were finished there. Ryder’s mom rolled her eyes and walked away. It was probably best Caroline didn’t order anything. Annette, while generally agreeable, would have without a doubt fucked with her food.
“Why are we here?” Jamie asked, cutting to the chase. She needed to get back to the station, and back to her life post Manning Empire.
“I want you to talk to your father,” Caroline stated flatly.
Jamie blinked slowly, deliberately. Talking to Archer wasn’t the problem. Archer was the problem. Nothing was ever simple with her father. Everything was a negotiation and he didn’t have anything she wanted.
“James, be reasonable. Everyone has a—”
“—role to play in the Manning Empire,” Jamie finished. She knew the company song by heart at this point. “I’ve played my part. I’m done, and tell Daddy to stay out of my personal life.”
“But what about your trust?” Caroline huffed, slapping the table in frustration. She didn’t even flinch at the stickiness this time.
“I don’t want it.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being out in the world alone. Unhappy is better than alone, believe me.” It was the nicest thing Caroline ever said to Jamie. Completely backwards and flawed, but for Caroline, it was almost sweet.
“Mother, I’m not alone. I have Kensie, and Chris, and Parker, and a man who loves me.”
“Kensington is on the fast track to becoming Mrs. Knight. Christopher, well, this isn’t about him. That boy of yours is nothing. Jared is handsome, and smart, and well off. You could do worse.”
“Ryder is smart, sensitive, and talented.”
“I.e. he’s broke,” Caroline scoffed.
“Everything isn’t about money,” Jamie countered.
“Oh, but James, it is, and the sooner you grow up and realize this boy, as fun as he may be, isn’t what’s best for you, the better.” The two women stared at each other, a standoff of sorts, neither willing to concede. While Jamie appreciated her mother’s dysfunctional attempt at compassion, this conversation was over.
Annette returned with a plate of lasagna and dropped it down in front of Jamie before turning to glare at Caroline. “My son is the only thing she needs,” she growled.
Jamie was shocked by the ferocity in her tone, but also something inside her fel
t warm, cherished, a feeling her mother never once evoked. Caroline’s eyes darted between Jamie and Annette and back again before understanding wrinkled her brow—rather, should have wrinkled, but Botox.
“Now I get it.” A bitter laugh escaped Caroline’s throat, the sound both high pitched and incredulous. “Did you know my daughter gave up five million dollars to be with your son?” Jamie didn’t miss the possessive tilt to the word “my”.
“You did what?” Annette shrieked, looking down at Jamie. Grasping at her chest, she scooted her way into the booth. The bell above the door rang again. Pots and pans clanked and clacked in the kitchen. The lunch rush was in full swing, but Annette just sat there, staring at Jamie as if she’d grown a second head.
“Not you too,” Jamie groaned.
“Listen, Kitty Cat,” Annette began, wrapping an arm around Jamie, “my son is a catch, and you two are perfect for each other, but five million dollars is a lot to walk away from without some serious thought.”
“Exactly, James,” Caroline cooed, awkwardly grabbing her hand. Caroline didn’t do the doting mother, but she was a competitive bitch. The sight of another woman comforting Jamie was enough to make her pretend.
Jamie slipped her hand from her mother’s grasp. “I don’t want Jared. If Ry and I broke up tomorrow I still wouldn’t be with Jared, not for money or for the Manning Empire, or because I don’t want to be alone, but because that money comes with strings. I’m done being Daddy’s little puppet.”
“You feel that way now. I get it. I was you. You think I was in love with your father when we married?”
“I guess.” Jamie never really thought about it. Her parents weren’t the lovey-dovey type. They weren’t affectionate unless it was for show. She’d never run into them in an embrace, never caught them kissing, never heard sex noises from outside their door. In Jamie’s head, they only ever had sex twice, once when she was conceived and once when her brother was.
“Of course, not. He’s ten years older than me and I had a beau, but I knew my place, and the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who gave me mind-blowing orgasms wasn’t my future.”
“Mother,” Jamie cringed, dropping her forehead on the sticky table.
“What? That’s what you see in this Ryder, isn’t it?”
“What they have is more than sex,” Annette said, rubbing Jamie’s back.
“Kill me now, please God, just kill me.”
“James, stop being dramatic. You’re twenty-five years old. This is life. Think of it as a TED talk.” Jamie lifted her head and let it drop back on the table over and over. The thought of her mother giving anyone a TED talk was laughable. “Jared can take care of you. You can quit your little job and make time to do the things you love, like shop, and travel. This life isn’t all bad.”
Annette snorted at that. “Kitty Cat loves her job.” She knew Jamie better than her own mother did.
Her mother’s lips pursed like she smelled something sour. “Kitty Cat? Really? A stripper name, James?”
“Kitty Cat,” Annette confirmed, with a raise of her chin. “She’s happy. She’s telling you she’s happy. Why wouldn’t you want that for her?”
“Happiness is overrated. Look at me, I haven’t been happy in twenty-eight years and I’m doing just fine.”
Goddamn it, Jamie thought to herself. She promised she wouldn’t let her mother weaken her resolve, but that was the saddest thing she’d ever heard her say. “I am not you, mother. I’ll never be you, and I know that’s disappointing, but I have to live for me.”
Caroline regarded her for a beat, then slipped her Chanel sunglasses into place. “I guess we’re done here. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She rose, straightening her tweed blazer, also Chanel. “Annette, I would say it was a pleasure, but that would be a lie.” With that she was gone.
Annette rolled her eyes. “Never leave my grandchildren alone with that woman.”
“Honey, I’m home,” Ryder called. The front door slammed shut behind him. Shuffling the takeout bags to one hand, he used the other to lift his guitar over his shoulder and set it on the stairs. The house was quiet.
The guys had been at the bar revamping their set for their upcoming show at the University of Oregon. Afterwards, Javi left for his nephew’s first birthday and CT made one of his rare pilgrimages home.
Ryder and Jamie had the house to themselves for the first time and he planned to take advantage of every second.
“Kitty Cat?” he tried again. The smell of baked goods wafted through the air, tipping Ryder off as to the whereabouts of his girlfriend. They hadn’t spoken much that day. She left before he woke up and the only communication he’d received was a text saying she was meeting her mother for lunch, which he guessed was why she was baking.
“In the kitchen,” Jamie answered and Ryder couldn’t help the grin glued on his face. The sound of her voice made his heart do back flips. Yes, he realized that made him a complete, fucking pussy and no, he didn’t care.
Jamie stood at the counter, hunched over a mixing bowl that she must have brought over from her place. The only bowls the guys owned were good for cereal and not much else. Ryder sat the food on the kitchen island and wrapped his arms around Jamie’s waist. Her hair was piled high onto her head. She wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers were rolled onto her hips.
“That smells good,” he said into her hair. The scent of her fruity shampoo was the best welcome home he’d ever received.
“Thank you. It’s the base for my cheesecake. Basically, a thin brownie,” she explained, still distracted by whatever it was she was doing with the bowl.
“I love cheesecake.” Ryder’s hands traveled up her ribcage and he was pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He rolled her nipples as his tongue glided down the shell of her ear.
“Ry,” she half-moaned, half-whined. “Do you realize how hard it is to beat cheesecake batter with a hand mixer? You feeling me up is making it exponentially more difficult.”
“I’ve got faith in you, Kitty Cat,” he grinned, continuing his assault on her tits.
“You’re a dick.”
“And you’re making my dick very hard.” He pushed his hips into her ass to drive the point home.
At that, she chuckled, powering the little whirling torture device down and turning in his arms. “How was your day Dear?”
“It was kind of epic,” he said, because it kind of was. “We spent the day working on new shit and smoking some of the dankest weed we’ve had since Cali.” Acapulco Gold. Javi got it because he said it was Mexican, like him.
“This all sounds so epic,” Jamie teased.
“Let me finish.” His voice was garbled. He wanted to tell her about his day, but he also wanted to fuck her into next week. His dick was stealing the blood from his brain and they had about a ten-minute window before Jamie was face down, ass up. Cheesecake, be damned. “Anyway, you know when you’re high and you just talk about random, fake-deep shit?”
“Yes. You guys are the kings of it,” she said adding a splash of vanilla into the bowl.
“Well, yeah, true. Javi was going off about the Saved by the Bell episode, when Jessie was addicted to caffeine pills.”
“The ‘I’m so excited… I’m so… I’m so…”
Ryder chuckled at her surprisingly accurate impersonation. “Yeah, that one. Javi was going on and on about how he felt like Jessie, between working at his brother’s shop and band shit. Like he got why she resorted to such extreme measures—”
“It was caffeine, not crack,” Jamie deadpanned.
“Will you let me finish?” Ryder admonished, yanking hard on her messy bun. Her head snapped back, leaving her neck exposed. He licked, then bit her flesh, sucking until it turned a bright shade of pink.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” she giggled.
“Promise?” he said, biting her again. The sound of her giggle made his dick ache. He wanted to spin her around and fuck her ov
er the counter, but he still hadn’t managed to tell her his good fucking news.
Jamie ran her thumb and index finger across her lips, zipping them. “I promise.”
“Anyway,” he paused dramatically, “that’s when CT came up with the idea of us quitting our jobs and doing music full-time.”
“Wait, what?” she asked, pushing him back. “You’re what?”
“I’m quitting my job to play rock stars with my friends,” he smirked.
Jamie’s mouth popped open, her lips made a little “O” shape, that he couldn’t help but kiss. “Is that… smart?”
“Who the fuck knows?” he shrugged. “But we are tired of turning down gigs because we can’t get time off. We’re selling a shit ton of t-shirts and Sex God is doing okay on iTunes. CT said he’d cover rent and bills here for a year so we can give this a real shot.”
Ry and Javi asked the same questions themselves when CT first brought it up, but the more he talked, the more they were convinced. CT was loaded. He didn’t flaunt his wealth. He’d driven the same old school Mustang for as long as Ryder had known him. He lived off his wages from the gym, only dipping into his trust when they weren’t enough to cover overhead expenses. The drummer was impulsive, sure, but he was also smart as fuck. He made his own way in this world so the fact that he was willing to use Carter Thayer’s fortune, to further CT and Lithium Springs’ dream, gave Ryder the motivation he needed to call Liz and tell her he wouldn’t be back.
“Holy shit,” Jamie gasped.
“I know and that’s not all. I stopped at that place you like, the Indian Fusion restaurant, whatever that means, and got your over-priced Tandoori Chicken, because I’m responsible.” He laughed, but there wasn’t anything funny about how much that shit cost. He knew a little place around the corner that gave twice the food at half the price. “My roommates are gone and I figured we can celebrate my unemployment and you being five million dollars poorer by fucking in as many rooms as we can before they get back.”
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