“I’ll check it out.” We both take a few bites, the short silences actually remarkably comfortable, though I can almost feel him thinking. And I’m thinking about what he’d said about being on his best behavior as he opens his water, slugs a drink, and offers it to me.
I glance at the bottle, and then at the water on his bottom lip, deciding that if I had more courage, I’d kiss it away. But I don’t, and my gaze inches upward to his, the air seems to charge around us, and I forget to breathe. Oh yes. There is something far more intimate about us, and this moment in time, than sex, and I can’t seem to convince myself that it’s bad. I reach for the bottle, tilting it to take a deep swallow, before offering it back to him. He leans my way, his thumb stroking away the remnants of water from my lip, his head lowering for a kiss that doesn’t come.
His phone vibrates and he freezes, his lashes lowering, tension in his mouth inching toward mine. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “I should have turned it off.” He glances down at the phone. “Now my mother’s calling me.”
“Do you think she found out about the woman?”
“I hope like hell not.” He grimaces at the caller ID. “And now Seth is calling again.”
“Take the call, Shane. Get it off your mind because I know it is.”
He gives me an agreeable nod, and punches the answer button. “Is this about my father or the security feed?”
I’m appalled to realize I can hear Seth reply. “I’m on my way home to go through the security footage.”
“So this call is about my father,” Shane assumes.
“He took the woman to the Four Seasons.”
My jaw drops at this outrageous act by his father while Shane laughs without humor. “Of course he did. Who’s the woman?”
“I’m working on it.”
“Then why call me repeatedly rather than leave me a message?”
“I was about to come over there before your mother does.”
“What?” Shane asks.
“She called me when she couldn’t reach you, insisting that it’s imperative she talk to you and indicated she might go to your apartment.”
Shane runs a hand over his face. “Why?”
Why is right? Why am I listening? I try to get up. Shane catches my arm, and gives me a look along with a shake of his head, while Seth answers. “She wouldn’t tell me.”
I mouth, “I can hear everything.”
Shane nods his understanding but seems to dismiss any concern, turning his attention back to his call. “Of course my mother wouldn’t tell you what she wants,” he concludes to Seth. “That would be too simple. I’ll deal with her.”
“I’ll have a report on the security feed by morning.”
“And the woman,” Shane amends. “We’re paying enough people to get me an answer by morning.”
Woman? Does he mean the one he saw his father with tonight? Surely not.
“Until she goes home,” Seth replies, “I have no way of tracing her.”
Damn. That sure sounds like he’s talking about the woman his father is with and it’s a slippery slope he’s headed down.
“Try,” Shane orders, ending the call to look at me. “I need to deal with my mother. It’ll be fast.”
“I could hear every word of both sides of your conversation,” I quickly say, “not just your part. I should go to the balcony.”
“I want you right here.”
“No you don’t, because I’ll tell you that you shouldn’t be looking into that woman, Shane. And yet I know it’s none of my business.”
“What it is, is more complicated than a simple affair.”
“Like I said, I should I should go to the balcony.”
“Stay,” he says, and while he says it like one of his commands, which I’ve come to realize are simply second nature to him, I sense an undertone of a plea I don’t believe he’d ever issue.
I give a choppy nod and resettle on the barstool. He wastes no time punching a button on his phone and almost instantly says, “What’s going on, Mother?”
“I heard you saw your father tonight,” I hear her reply.
“I see him daily,” he says, obviously treading cautiously.
“At the restaurant, Shane. Susie said you obviously were not pleased.”
He’s silent several beats, as if weighing his reply. “Did she tell you why?”
“I know your father’s having an affair. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“You know he’s having an affair?”
He sounds incredulous. Been there, done that, and I never came to terms with why my mother accepted my stepfather’s affairs.
“Of course I know,” his mother confirms. “It’s fine.”
Shane looks at the ceiling, seeming to rein in whatever emotion she’s stirred, before saying, “We’ll talk tomorrow.” His tone short and absolute.
“Son,” she begins. “Your father—”
“I have company, Mother.”
“Oh. Well. Good. You need to fuck some of your frustrations out. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Okay. Talk about embarrassing, and from his mother of all people.