I smiled. “You look lovely today.”
She clicked her tongue scornfully. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Do I?” I replied with feigned innocence, refusing to give her leverage. She could bring up theINsiderarticle if she wanted, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to make the first move.
“The photos, Henry! I saw them.”
“Oh, the photos. They weren’t particularly flattering. It was a bit of a shock, because usually the camera loves my face.”
“Could you be serious for once? What were you thinking?” my mum demanded, her voice dripping with indignation, as if the photos showed not Kate and me at lunch, but the two of us gleefully shooting at chained-up puppies.
My smile faded. “I don’t get the issue. I had lunch with a friend.”
My mum shook her head uncomprehendingly. “My god, Henry. Did you look at the woman? Did you see what she was wearing? And that dreadful restaurant! What will people think? Let alone the press! Barbara called to ask if we’re having financial problems. And Margaret wanted to know if the photos show you buying drugs.”
“No, I always meet my dealer in Hyde Park,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Henry! This is a serious issue. Are you sleeping with her?”
“No.”
“Thank god. It’s enough that your father is the way he is.”
I gritted my teeth. If Kate and I were ever going to have sex, it would be consensual, unlike dad’s predatory escapades. But I kept the thought to myself. Things were hard enough as it was for my mum. Half the world knew that my dad had cheated on her with much younger women—and without their consent. I didn’t have to rub it in.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked instead, eager to end the discussion. “I’m not happy about the article either, but it exists. I can’t change that.”
My mum thought for a moment. “Let me set up a date for you, and the press will see that you’re not involved with that woman. I heard Mr. Walsh’s daughter is back in town. She’s apparently been single for a few months, and she’s open to a new relationship.”
“No.”
“Why not? If you were with a respectable woman...”
“I said no,” I interrupted, biting back the urge to defend Kate. She wasn’t a worse person than us, or worth less, just because she couldn’t afford expensive clothes, but my mum would never understand that. At least she wasn’t pushing me to date Olivia again.
“OK, but promise me you won’t see her again.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s in my apartment right now.”
My mother’s expression was a mix of disappointment and barely contained fury. “You just said you’re not sleeping with her.”
“I’m not. She’s just a friend.”
“A friend,” she repeated, as if she wasn’t familiar with the word. I wasn’t sure whether her blank face was deliberate or the result of her latest Botox treatment. “Couldn’t you have found yourself a classier friend? This is Logan all over again.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It sounded like one to me,” I said, deciding it was high time to end the conversation. “We should get going. Vivian and Rakesh must be waiting for us, and we have a lot to talk through.”
My mum pursed her lips thoughtfully, as if she had something to add. But instead she nodded, and we made our way to the conference room. My mum was on the Pearl Gala organisation team too.
The TV was on. Vivian and Rakesh barely noticed our arrival, their attention glued to a morning show. The host was interviewing William Hunt, a self-proclaimed expert on high society.
