She glances out at the mountains. The sun’s sinking lower and casting them in hazy shadows while turning the fluffy evening clouds a deep orange. It’s a beautiful evening.
“Your father and I are talking about retiring,” she says, startling the hell out of me. “Hayes is settled and happy. You—you’ll be happy. And we already know you’ve been drifting away from the family business. We’ve seen youhappydrifting away. We can’t run Razzle Dazzle forever, and it’s best to leave while we still have some say in our successors. Living in the spotlight—it’s not something we meant to do for so long. Between Begonia due soon and finding out I already have a grandchild… It’s time.”
My mother is apparently full of surprises tonight. “Does Hayes know?”
“I’m sure he’d suspect as much if he wanted to contemplate our plans, but I have little interest in distracting him from what makes him happy.”
“He’ll be happy for you.”
She smiles. “I know. But it’s lovely that he has someone else to be happy for first. I honestly enjoy that. There’s nothing—nothing—as satisfying as seeing your grown children happy and at peace.”
I watch her closely, looking for any tell that she’s trying to subtly manipulate me into questioning my own intentions to walk away from life in the spotlight and live here with Emma and Bash.
But if she’s thinking any negative thoughts, she’s hiding it well.
“How extensive was your background investigation into Emma?” I ask softly.
“Oh,verythorough,” she assures me. “I know…entirely too much…aboutallof her family.”
I almost laugh.
Pretty sure my mother just told me she accidentally saw my girlfriend’s brother naked.
But I manage to keep a straight face while I wait for her to fill in any other details she wants to give me.
“That wedding video was horrific,” she says.
“That’s never felt like a strong enough word.”
“I don’t know that thereisa strong enough word.”
I glance around the small patio and toward the back of the house. Begonia’s chatting with her chef. Keisha’s just grabbed Emma, who looked like she was possibly headed my way, and is engaging her in a full-body conversation as only Keisha can. Hayes is likely still entertaining Marshmallow and Bash.
“Her ex is a complete shithead,” I tell Mom.
“Sweetheart, he’s far worse than that.”
“You have dirt on him?”
“Have I been shielding both of my sons from the worst that the press has to offer for years by making sure the press and gossips who couldn’t be reasonable knew that I would end them if they didn’t find a way to back the fuck off of insulting my children? Of course I have dirt on him.”
It’s official.
My mother can never meet Sabrina.
Also, she’s leveled up in superhero status in my brain.
“Do you need it?” she asks.
I hate my answer.Hateit. But I’d hate myself more if I replied any differently. “Yes.”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and dictates a text message to her assistant.
It’s short.
Send Jonas the packet.
“Is there anything else I can do to help?” she asks.
