Page 24

“My money is your money, Ship.”

“That is not true. And don’t call the airline and bump him up to first class, like you did last time, either. I mean it. He can fend for himself; he’s in his twenties now.”

“If he needs anything, you tell him to call me.”

“I will do no such thing.”

I roll my eyes as I bounce on the balls of my feet, putting my hands in my pockets as I wait for her. She glowers at me, but we both know what I’m waiting for.

“We’re going toChatham’s,” she says in exasperation. “Happy?”

I nod, satisfied. “I’ll call them and get you the best table.”

“Mr. Jones?—”

“Oh, come on now. You know I adore spoiling you. Mostly because you object to it so much. Have a night out with your son without worrying about the cost of everything for once.”

“I wasn’t worrying about that,” she protests. “You pay me very well.”

“That’s not the point. I want to treat you. I’ll call them.”

She gives a heavy sigh that only makes my smile grow, as she hands me some packages and the mail.

“How’s the new occupant doing?” I ask, glancing back at the aquarium where my new octopus has been installed for the past week. She’s a mischievous little thing and tried to escape as soon as I placed her in the tank.

A friend of mine found her trapped inside a plastic bag in the ocean. She only has six legs and was struggling to hunt, so I offered to take care of her. I worry that the tank will feel like a prison compared to the ocean. But, I also don’t like the idea of little kids gawking at her in the city aquarium.

“She’s been moving about a bit more today and ate some food, so that’s a good sign.”

“Any escape attempts?”

“Not that I noticed, sir, but she may be waiting to do that when it’s dark.”

I laugh. “Thanks, Ship, have a great time with Charles tonight, and thanks for your help today.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” she says and heads toward the elevator.

I make my way over to the tank, looking along the pebbles and gravel at the bottom for the new addition. The octopus, whom I have named Cordelia, is sitting inside a little pot at the bottom, her intelligent eyes watching me warily as I crouch beside her.

“Hey girl,” I murmur as the other fish swarm toward me. They know it’s feeding time, and I smile at the shimmering colors as they flutter excitedly against the glass.

“You all hungry?” I ask, using a long-handled scoop to drop their food into the water. It contains pellets for Cordelia, too, but she hasn’t shown much interest in them until now. I need to get her some live food so she can hunt as she would in the ocean.

I put on my favorite classical music so that she’ll find dinnertime more relaxing, and head into my office.

As I take a seat at my desk, I look self-consciously down at my suit for what must be the tenth time today. Since Jax waltzed out of my office, I’ve been fighting a semi all afternoon.

Damn. I could watch her on her knees all day.

I pick up the paperweight on my desk, tossing it from hand to hand. My little sister, Carrie, bought it for me five years ago on my thirtieth birthday.

It’s a beautiful design with hundreds of golden, glass-blown fish frozen in a shoal inside it. Holding it up to the light, I admire the play of colors and the intricate details of the flashing scales on every tiny body.

They look so free.

My expression sours as I lower the paperweight, and my mother’s grinning face comes into view. I’ve had that picture on my desk for years, and I’ve always hated it. She looks too cheerful—fake almost.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and stare at it, knowing I should call her about this goddamn date she’s trying to force me to go on. The conversation is going to be painful; telling my mother ‘no’ always is.