One Month with the Magnate by Michelle Celmer Page B

out of the kitchen and a few seconds later she heard his office door close.
    Puzzled, she headed out to the garage, wondering what had gotten into him. Not that she liked it when he acted like an overbearing jerk. But this was just too weird.
    The drive to her mother’s apartment was only fifteen minutes. Her car was in the lot, and the light was on in her living room. Isabelle parked and walked to the door. She heard laughter from inside and figured that her mother was watching television. She knocked, and a few seconds later the door opened.
    â€œIsabelle!” her mom said, clearly surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”
    â€œMrs. Smith didn’t need me for the night and I was bored. I thought we could watch a movie or something.”
    Normally her mother would invite her right in, but she stood blocking the doorway. She looked nervous. “Oh, well…now isn’t a good time.”
    Isabelle frowned. “Is something wrong?”
    â€œNo, nothing.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It’s just…I have company.”
    Company? Though Isabelle hadn’t noticed at first, her mother looked awfully well put together for a quiet night at home. Her hair was swept up and she wore a skirt and blouse that Isabelle had never seen before. She looked beautiful. But for whom?
    â€œAdriana, who is it?” a voice asked. A male voice.
    Her mother had a man over?
    As far as Isabelle knew, she hadn’t dated anyone since her husband died three years ago. She had serious trust issues. And who wouldn’t after thirty-five years with a bastard like Isabelle’s father?
    But was he a boyfriend? A casual acquaintance?
    Her mother blushed, and she stepped back from the door. “Come in.”
    Isabelle stepped into the apartment and knew immediately that this was no “friendly” social call. There were lit candles on the coffee table and an open bottle of wine with two glasses. The good crystal, Isabelle noted.
    â€œIsabelle, this is Ben McPherson. Ben, this is my daughter.”
    Isabelle wasn’t sure what she expected, but it sure wasn’t the man who stood to greet her.
    â€œIsabelle!” he said, reaching out to shake her hand, pumping it enthusiastically. “Good to finally meet you!”
    He was big and boisterous with longish salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt. He looked like an ex-hippie, with a big question mark on the ex, and seemed to exude happiness and good nature from every pore. He was also the polar opposite of Isabelle’s father.
    And though she had known him a total of five seconds, Isabelle couldn’t help but like him.
    â€œBen owns the coffee shop next to the boutique where I work,” her mother said.
    â€œWould you like to join us?” Ben asked. “We were just getting ready to pop in a movie.”
    The fact that she almost accepted his offer was a testament to how low her life had sunk. The last thing her mother needed was Isabelle crashing her dates. Being the third wheel was even worse than being alone.
    â€œMaybe some other time.”
    â€œAre you sure you can’t stay for a quick glass of wine?”
    â€œNot while I’m driving. But it was very nice meeting you, Ben.”
    â€œYou, too, Isabelle.”
    â€œI’ll walk you to your car,” her mother said, and she told Ben, “I’ll be right back.”
    Isabelle followed her mother out the door, shutting it behind them.
    â€œAre you upset?” her mother asked, looking worried.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œThat I have a man friend.”
    â€œOf course not! Why would I be upset? I want you to be happy. Ben seems very nice.”
    A shy smile tilted her lips. “He is. I get coffee in his shop before work. He’s asked me out half a dozen times, and I finally said yes.”
    â€œSo you like him?”
    â€œHe still makes me a little nervous, but he’s such a nice man. He