I pull away from the hug, putting distance between Gavin and me. “I’ll see you around.” I turn away from him without another word and get past my doorman with a quick greeting.
I don’t relax until I’m safely alone in my apartment, away from the temptation that he presents.
My mom bursts into my office right before lunchtime.
“Hi, Mom. I didn’t think you were coming in to the office today.”
“I’m here to take you to lunch,” Mom says imperiously.
I was afraid of that.
Not that I don’t love my mom; she’s amazing. She’s always supported me, letting me know that I could pursue whatever career I wanted. When I finally got up the courage to tell her I wanted to be more involved in the auction house, she cut the cooking lessons and started taking me to the office, to “have lunch with your father.”
More often than not, Dad was too busy for the lunch, so Mom would take me around the different departments, talking to staff so I could learn the business from every angle.
Eventually, she started saying she was too busy doing her charity work for the cooking lessons, telling Dad he better take both of his children to the office. Dad said he didn’t have time to babysit, and Mom said she wouldn’t be responsible for what she did if he called raising his children babysitting ever again, looking more menacing than I had ever seen her, or have seen her since.
Dad took me to the office after that. And I got to learn auctioneering from the best. I try not to drag Mom into work issues too often, because I want to show her I can do this myself. But I haven’t forgotten how much she did for me.
Still, I don’t have time for lunch with anyone right now. And Mom’s lunches last approximately 82 percent longer than regular lunches.
“I was just going to eat some food at my desk while working today. I have to get the Harrison catalog done this week and I have a sale tonight.”
“If you won’t eat with your sainted mother, then as your boss, I’m ordering you to a business lunch. To discuss business.”
Damn it. Mom is an equal owner in the company, so this is technically an order. “Well played, you crafty woman.” I save my progress and grab my jacket and purse from my coat rack.
Mom is as generous as she is crafty, so she doesn’t gloat.
We go to a restaurant in the building, so at least we won’t waste transportation time. And we’ve been so often we know the offerings by heart, so no precious minutes wasted on staring blankly at the menu.
“How was your night last night?” Mom asks casually after we put in our usual orders.
Wait a minute...this isn’t mother-daughter bonding time; this is an expertly executed ambush. And I fell for it, because I am not worthy to cross swords with this woman.
“It was good,” I say carefully. I wish the waiter would come back with a menu I could hide behind. I paste a neutral smile on my face, feeling as wary as Nancy Drew walking into a mysterious old house, not knowing what might be around the corner.
“What did you do?” she asks, eyes pinning me to the seat and daring me to lie. All while having the most benign smile on her face. It’s scary.Thisis the content I wished she had taught me. Not how to make her really good dal makhana.
“I went to a charity dinner and ended up helping with the auction itself. You should have seen the amateur they had doing it. Job security for us though, eh?” I’m babbling, but I can’t help it.
Maybe I’m not ready to give in yet. I refuse to give her the piece of information she wants the most from my night: that I was with Gavin. Willingly. Sort of.
“And who did you go with?”
“Plenty of people were there.” I deliberately misunderstand. “Gina Rodriguez was there. She said she would stop by Loot. And I saw a few other clients.”
“But who were youwith? Who did you go to that widely publicized event with?” Mom’s eyes narrow as she goes in for specifics.
Okay, I give in. There’s no use fighting; she has the superior intelligence source today. “I went with Gavin Carlyle,” I mumble. With about as much dignity as when she caught me staying up late to read auction catalogs in high school.
“With Gavin Carlyle?” Mom’s eyes sparkle in excitement. That’s not the anger I was expecting.
“Well, yeah. It was a business thing. Sort of.” I don’t think she knows it was because I trespassed, and I don’t think I’ll be the one to tell her.
I won’t be telling her about the almost kiss either.
Her eyes dull a little. “A business thing? Not a date?”
