“I think he’s seen a shrink,” Scott returned. “Nari counsels him all the time.”
“Nari gives him cookies,” Millie retorted, shivering. “Come on, let’s get out of the cold.” Scott took her hand, which probably wasn’t a great idea in front of the HDD headquarters. But at this point, she just didn’t care.
“What’s in the envelope?” he asked.
“My termination papers.”
He stopped them cold, and Roscoe ran into the back of her legs. Only Scott’s strong hands grasping her arms stopped her from falling over. “Millie?”
“I received notice of my termination,” she said, her brain going numb. “There’s a whole procedure, and I do want to fight it.”
Scott claimed the envelope. “Oh, we’ll fight it. Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s going to rain.”
She walked with him to his SUV in a daze. Soon, they drove away from the city. “Where are we going?”
“I want to drop by and see my mom, if that’s okay,” he said. “I want to ask her about Julie.”
Millie pressed a hand to her solar plexus. She’d forgotten all about Julie, the poor woman. There were more important things than a job. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight her termination, however. Then another thought hit her. “Your mother?” she asked.
He grinned. “You’ll like her.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll like her,” she said. How could she not? The woman had raised Scott.
“She’ll love you,” Scott murmured.
Somehow, Millie doubted that. She didn’t fit the mold of the perfect politician’s wife. Not a politician to date, Scott unquestionably exuded polish. Oh, he might be rough and tumble and dangerous, but most people didn’t see that side of him. They saw the smooth lawyer. He’d probably earn a hundred percent of the vote if he ever ran for office. A politician’s wife didn’t have time to be inventing better bandages or dog bowls. “You said that your mom had a trust fund?” she asked.
“Yes. Her family came from the Russell Mustard Company.”
“Wow.” Millie just looked at him. “You’re the heir to the Russell Mustard fortune?” She loved Russell Mustard. Everybody did. Supposedly, the family had sold the company about twenty years ago for buckets of cash.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that’s me.”
She recognized his wealth, but he had far more than she’d realized. He was wealthy, like Richie Rich wealthy. “I see. Do you have a trust fund?”
He silently watched the road for several heartbeats. “Yes. A large one.”
Great. How different could they be as people? Millie shopped at the discount store usually. So now she had to go meet some society lady who would look down her nose at Millie, and who most likely wouldn’t want Millie anywhere near the heir.
They were so not a good fit.
They made the drive in silence, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts as Roscoe snored loudly from the back seat. He punctuated his snores with a growl once in a while as if he were chasing rabbits in a dream. Every few miles or so, he’d fart.
“That alcohol really messes with his system,” Scott muttered, opening a window.
Millie rolled hers down as well and tried not to laugh. “God, no kidding.”
Clouds gathered darkly above them, but so far no rain had fallen. They reached Old Town, Alexandria, and the historic charm of the neighborhood entranced Millie despite her misgivings. They reached a luxurious condominium on one side of the Potomac and parked in an underground parking area.
She jostled Roscoe to awaken him and helped him from the vehicle. He stood groggily for a moment, shook his whole body, then brightened. She could swear he smiled.
They followed Scott to the elevator, hopped inside, and rode up to the top floor. Oh man, this was worse than she’d thought. The elevator opened to an expansive and opulent vestibule with marble flooring, understated wallpaper, and one double doorway. Thank goodness she’d worn the uncomfortable suit. Roscoe looked around and headed right toward the door.
Scott followed, reaching for her hand. “Come on, Millie.”
Oh man, she had to get her hand free. They couldn’t walk into his mother’s zillion-dollar penthouse holding hands. They were just too different.
He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door. “Mom, we’re here,” he called.
