“So, where is Ava?” she asked, curling up on the ancient leather love seat, pulling her legs beneath her.
If Luc hadn’t already been sitting in what Vincent had once dubbed the “interrogation” chair, he might have stumbled at the unexpected question.
“Ava?”
His mother gave him a knowing smile.
“What the hell does Ava have to do with the shit storm that got unleashed last weekend?” Luc asked, referring to the disastrous Father’s Day drinking session that had ended with him storming out of the bar like a sulky child.
“You went to her after, did you not?”
Luc’s eyes narrowed. Now, just how the hell did she know that?
“Actually, she came to me,” he heard himself say.
Damn.
He was already running his mouth, and she hadn’t even offered him a pignolo yet.
At least he’d stopped short of telling his mother about the sexy lingerie show. There were some things one did not tell one’s mother, no matter how amazing her baking skills.
Maria’s smile widened. “I like her.”
Luc said nothing.
“And Nonna likes her.”
Well. That was…something. Nonna and his mother hadn’t agreed on something since…Luc couldn’t remember.
“You’ve only met her once.”
“And?”
“And that’s not long enough to determine whether or not you like somebody,” Luc said.
“Did you know at first meeting that you liked her?”
Luc snorted. “The first time I met Ava Sims was when she was ripping me a new one for writing her a parking ticket.”
“But did you like her?” Maria pressed.
Luc opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly.
It didn’t matter. His mom read his mind anyway and laughed gustily. “You liked the way she looked.”
“Well it certainly wasn’t her respect for traffic laws,” he muttered.
“Don’t discount physical chemistry,” his mother said with a smug smile. “When I first saw your father…”
Luc lifted a hand. “Nope. Just…no. We’re not doing that. And don’t tell me that you were sold on Ava Sims after one meeting because she’s gorgeous. That works on a hot-blooded single man, not his married mother.”
“No,” his mother mused. “I mean, yes, she’s very beautiful, but that’s not why I liked her.”
“Oh, do tell,” Luc said half-sarcastically. “Was it the way she totally sucked up to everyone in this house, because I’ve gotta tell ya—”
“It was the way you looked at her.”
Luc broke off at his mother’s quiet, matter-of-fact statement. “You like a girl because of the way your son looked at her?”
Her lips twitched. “You’ll understand when you have a child someday.”
Luc’s stomach twisted. “Mom—”
It was her turn to hold up a hand. “I know, I know. You’re not currently on the marriage and baby track. But you never know.”
He did know. He would never put any woman or child in the position of Mike Jensen’s widow and fatherless son.
No matter how he looked at Ava Sims.
Which, come to think of it…
“What do you mean, you liked the way I looked at her?” he asked, even though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.
His mom did nothing but smile, and he pointed a suspicious finger at her. “That. What is that?”
“You know what that is.”
Luc did know. Her smile stunk of mother knows best.
Actually, it was more like mother knows something you don’t know, but she’s not going to tell you what because you need to learn for yourself.
It was the worst.
But Luc’s brain didn’t feel big enough to deal with the Ava dilemma and the persistent guilt that his dad had risked his own career for Luc’s.
He tackled the second one. It seemed easier, somehow.
“Mom, did Dad tell you—”
“That two years ago that he asked Preston Nader not to run a story on the death of Mike and that poor baby girl?”
“Yes.”
“And that he also asked Joe Polinski, Anna Courture, and Keith Jobs?”
Luc leaned forward, both baffled and annoyed at his mother’s calm tone. “Mom, he bribed them.”