I start to laugh, which is a good distraction since I really have no intention of getting into my past sex life with her. “Have you ever seenWashington Crossing the Delaware? The Met has the original. It’s the size of a wall. We really should?—”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, but just because you mentioned it, I’m not a member.”
She peers up at me, waiting to see how I’ll react, as if I’d judge her for that. I set my glass down on the table. Brushing my hand over her cheek, I cup it, making sure she’s looking into my eyes. “Everyone should seeWashington Crossing the Delawareat least once in their life?—”
I’m whacked on the chest. “You are outright insufferable, you know that, Warner Landers?”
I’m too busy laughing to respond, but I missed a moment I’m already regretting. “I do know, and when I forget for only a second, I have you to remind me.” She laughs, but it’s light as she looks down at the ring on her finger, catching the slimmest of light in the hall where we’re standing. “Hey, Sass?”
When she looks up, I’m forgiven. There’s no malicelingering in her eyes. Thinking back over the past few days, I don’t think there ever was. It’s the opposite now. The way she’s looking at me like I’m the one who can save her inspires me to pick up where we left off yesterday. Lifting under her chin, I lean down to kiss her.
“I was hoping you’d be here, Warner.” The familiar voice sounds my alarm before I have a chance to open my eyes.Incoming. Incoming. Incoming. As soon as I do, I take a firm hold of Delaney’s hand, holding her close to my side. “Mother, I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Mother?” Delaney whispers under her breath beside me.
Shit.
CHAPTER 18
Delaney
Shoulders back.
Chin up.
Hands clasped on my clutch in front of me and not on her son. And just when things were getting good, too . . . his mother arrives to complicate our lives. As if they weren’t already. I almost giggle, but I hold it in.
He kisses her cheek and returns to stand next to me. “How are you, Mother?”
“Why do you have a black eye, Warner?” No hello. No how are you back. Not even the cliché answer of fine.
“Bar fight.”
“What?”
“I’m kidding, Mother. Long story. I’ll tell you about it later. It’s been a while.”
As if nothing prior matters, she says, “Kaley Wrennick has made a disaster of the Upper East Side Social this year, but who am I to complain? The committee put us out to pasture after last year’s event when they handed the reins tothe ‘next generation,’ as they called it. All of us were shocked and insulted, to say the least. Darly Scoffield and I started that event. A little respect would have been nice.”
I stare at his mother in shock as she takes only one breath during that entire diatribe. Similar blue eyes, a bit darker than his, and her platinum blond hair, though not natural, look nice against her golden skin tone. She’s very pretty, but that doesn’t surprise me since anyone with eyes and ovaries would be attracted to the man next to me. He’s gorgeous and had to get those genes from somewhere. I suspect his father played a role, but I’ve not seen him to know.
I bet she has a standing reservation at the club to meet the girls for a round of tennis and then drink the next round while picking at overpriced Cobb salads after flirting with the tennis instructor.Whoa!That was a lot. I’m sounding like her now. I shake myself out of that because I’m not sure Mother Landers is the woman I want to emulate.
Warner sips his drink and then grins. It’s not the smile I get, but it’s not condescending. Cordial? A smile he probably wears to exchange pleasantries. So unlike the man I’ve gotten to know. He says, “Well, I’m sure when it fails, the committee will be begging you to run it again. Otherwise, you’re doing well?”
Why does he ask questions like they’re casual acquaintances?
“I’m good.” The moment I’ve been dreading arrives. Her gaze lands on me like a ten-ton truck as she looks me over.
Two issues.
One, I’m not her daughter-in-law.
Two, we’ve never met.
So this is how the plan falls apart. This is where we come to the end of our fake relationship before it has achance to get to the prize at the finish line. When Warner shows no intentions of introducing us, I go for it. Wrapping my arms around her like we’re best friends from the Upper East Side Social club or committee, charity, whatever it is called that she’s upset about.
Dammit.I’ve read her name in Page Six, but it escapes me when I need it most. Her body is stiff and manages to become solid as a rock as fear rounds her eyes when I lean back with my hands still holding her by the arms. “It’s so good to see you again, Mother.”
