email—”
“Don’t.” The rebuke whipped through the air, laser sharp. “I can tell by the expression on your face you’re none too impressed with my news and before you say anything I want you to know how much Hank means to me.”
She took a sip of tea and he noticed the slight tremor as she replaced the delicate cup in its saucer. “I love him. He’s made me happier than I’ve ever been.”
Before he could respond she held up a hand.
“Let me finish. Your support is important to me and I’d like nothing better than having you by my side when I get married. But if you don’t approve I’d rather you kept it to yourself. I won’t have you jeopardizing my relationship with Hank. Have I made myself clear?”
He half expected her to waggle her finger under his nose like she used to when chastising him as a youngster. Now he was all grown up, though she’d probably debate it, he had every intention of standing up to her.
He didn’t respect her any less now than he had back then but in this instance he had the benefit of first-hand experience combined with hindsight. He loved his mom and if he could save her assured heartache, he would. Short-term pain would be better than a lifetime of agony.
“You’re awfully quiet.” She fiddled with the edge of the damask tablecloth, a sure-fire sign she was nervous. His elegant mother, who had played hostess to some of Beverly Hills biggest charity events over the years, never fiddled. She had an innate grace even when coping in harrowing circumstances. Like copping years of unfair criticism from his dad.
What if he was wrong? What if she’d truly found happiness with this farmer and he’d come barging in here where he didn’t belong? Damn, he wished he had the investigator’s report, some solid proof her fiancé was up to no good.
He took hold of her hand, an action he’d treasured as a child. It was one of the few physical displays his father didn’t chastise him for or call him a sissy. What a bastard. Nothing had changed.
“I’m worried about you. This wedding is happening too fast.”
“It may appear like I’m rushing into this but it’s what I want.” She patted the back of his hand. “Being with Hank is like finally coming home. He’s a wonderful man and I’m sure you’ll see for yourself when you meet him.”
For a moment he swore he could see stars in her eyes. Who would’ve thought, his mom head over heels at her age? Which made broaching the delicate subject of finances all the more difficult.
“Have you discussed the money side of things?”
She squared her shoulders and withdrew her hand, reacting as expected. He would’ve been defensive if someone came poking their nose in his private affairs.
“Hank knows I’m well off if that’s what you mean. He knows everything about my past.”
“But what do you know about his?” He persisted, feeling like a lawyer badgering a witness.
“Hank has told me all I need to know.”
She stood and turned her back on him, carrying their empty cups to the sink. “Not that it’s any of your business what we do with our money.”
Our money .
She was already thinking joint finances; which could only mean one thing. His mom was so rapt in this Hank character she’d lost all sense of self-preservation and was intending on combining their assets.
A fair deal for Hank. He scored a wife and around thirty million—taking into account his mom’s inheritance, her investments and the divorce settlement—his mom ended up living on a modest farm in Hicksville.
“Would you consider a pre-nup?”
At least he’d had the sense to insist on one when he’d married Annie. Though in the end he’d felt so bad about how he’d treated her he’d happily given her a house, a car and two million dollars when they’d divorced.
Not that he’d been a bad husband. He hadn’t been around to be a husband at all. They’d had nothing in common, a fact that had enchanted him at the start, opposites
“Don’t.” The rebuke whipped through the air, laser sharp. “I can tell by the expression on your face you’re none too impressed with my news and before you say anything I want you to know how much Hank means to me.”
She took a sip of tea and he noticed the slight tremor as she replaced the delicate cup in its saucer. “I love him. He’s made me happier than I’ve ever been.”
Before he could respond she held up a hand.
“Let me finish. Your support is important to me and I’d like nothing better than having you by my side when I get married. But if you don’t approve I’d rather you kept it to yourself. I won’t have you jeopardizing my relationship with Hank. Have I made myself clear?”
He half expected her to waggle her finger under his nose like she used to when chastising him as a youngster. Now he was all grown up, though she’d probably debate it, he had every intention of standing up to her.
He didn’t respect her any less now than he had back then but in this instance he had the benefit of first-hand experience combined with hindsight. He loved his mom and if he could save her assured heartache, he would. Short-term pain would be better than a lifetime of agony.
“You’re awfully quiet.” She fiddled with the edge of the damask tablecloth, a sure-fire sign she was nervous. His elegant mother, who had played hostess to some of Beverly Hills biggest charity events over the years, never fiddled. She had an innate grace even when coping in harrowing circumstances. Like copping years of unfair criticism from his dad.
What if he was wrong? What if she’d truly found happiness with this farmer and he’d come barging in here where he didn’t belong? Damn, he wished he had the investigator’s report, some solid proof her fiancé was up to no good.
He took hold of her hand, an action he’d treasured as a child. It was one of the few physical displays his father didn’t chastise him for or call him a sissy. What a bastard. Nothing had changed.
“I’m worried about you. This wedding is happening too fast.”
“It may appear like I’m rushing into this but it’s what I want.” She patted the back of his hand. “Being with Hank is like finally coming home. He’s a wonderful man and I’m sure you’ll see for yourself when you meet him.”
For a moment he swore he could see stars in her eyes. Who would’ve thought, his mom head over heels at her age? Which made broaching the delicate subject of finances all the more difficult.
“Have you discussed the money side of things?”
She squared her shoulders and withdrew her hand, reacting as expected. He would’ve been defensive if someone came poking their nose in his private affairs.
“Hank knows I’m well off if that’s what you mean. He knows everything about my past.”
“But what do you know about his?” He persisted, feeling like a lawyer badgering a witness.
“Hank has told me all I need to know.”
She stood and turned her back on him, carrying their empty cups to the sink. “Not that it’s any of your business what we do with our money.”
Our money .
She was already thinking joint finances; which could only mean one thing. His mom was so rapt in this Hank character she’d lost all sense of self-preservation and was intending on combining their assets.
A fair deal for Hank. He scored a wife and around thirty million—taking into account his mom’s inheritance, her investments and the divorce settlement—his mom ended up living on a modest farm in Hicksville.
“Would you consider a pre-nup?”
At least he’d had the sense to insist on one when he’d married Annie. Though in the end he’d felt so bad about how he’d treated her he’d happily given her a house, a car and two million dollars when they’d divorced.
Not that he’d been a bad husband. He hadn’t been around to be a husband at all. They’d had nothing in common, a fact that had enchanted him at the start, opposites
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