“Yeah, we do all sorts of stuff together,” she said. “I’ve been spending my days at his office helping him with his proposal for a deal in Singapore. You don’t even want to know what kind of cultural missteps he was making.”
“What else do you do?” Daphne asked. “Dinner out?”
“Of course, we have to make the fake engagement look good.” The fact that the past month and a half had been a complete blast had nothing to do with it. That was just gravy. Honest. “There are dinners, cocktail parties, the flea market, and movie nights in—he has a total thing for old RomComs—don’t ever tell him I told you his darkest secret.”
“But it’s all fake,” her friend said.
Ouch. That hurt. “As a three-dollar bill,” Clover said with enough cheer to cover whatever was pinching her between the shoulder blades.
“And you’re 100 percent positive of that?” Daphne asked, concern bleeding through so there was no doubt it wasn’t judgment motivating her friend but worry.
The realization settled what was left of the apprehension stringing her tight, and she smiled at her bestie.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m not morphing into my mother with dreams of a happy little life of domestic bliss where all I want is to fall in love. I have a life to lead and adventures to have.”
“As long as you’re sure…” Daphne let her worlds trail off.
“I am,” she said with a conviction she almost felt. “Now tell me everything I’ve missed.”
There was a beat of silence before Daphne started in on the latest shenanigans of their fuckboy neighbor down the hall and his ludicrous attempts to flirt with her. Clover listened and laughed without once wondering what Sawyer was up to—well, maybe once.
…
Something was missing—or to be more specific, someone was missing. Sawyer looked over to the conference table where Clover had left four neatly stacked rows of research on the construction market in Singapore in general and Mr. Lim’s luxury apartment business specifically before going out for an early lunch with her friend. He had plenty to do, but his attention kept traveling back to the empty chair at the end of the conference table. With each look, each wondered question about what she was doing right now, he got more and more annoyed with himself. So much that the sudden appearance of his mom in his doorway filled him with a sort of twisted joy. A little mother-son battle? Oh yeah, he could make time for that today.
Helene stopped two steps into his office and glanced back over her shoulder. “Stop acting like I’m holding a gun to your head and get in here.”
Sawyer’s stomach roiled. His mom he was glad to see, even if she brought nothing but headaches and Irish-Catholic guilt. But a wife candidate? Yeah, he was definitely not in the mood for that. He had his mouth open ready to tell her to leave her latest eligible bachelorette cooling her heels outside when his brother walked in.
“So this is what this floor looks like,” Hudson said, looking around the office as if it were an exotic locale. “I usually don’t make it past the cafeteria level. Mrs. Esposito always saves a couple of cookies for me.”
“We are not here to discuss cookies,” Helene said, continuing her march forward.
“Just one in particular,” Hudson said in a 40s gangster voice. “How is your bride-to-be?”
Maybe a wife candidate would be preferable to whatever these two had in mind. Sawyer bit back his groan but refused to sink back against his seat. One did not cower in front of Helene Carlyle unless one wanted to be eaten. So he steeled his spine, flexed his toes, and got ready to do the all too familiar tightrope walk of being careful of his mother’s feelings while also shoving her out of his business with both hands.
He stood and walked toward the pair of leather couches arranged to admire the view of Harbor City’s skyline, figuring his mother would probably be more comfortable trying to run his life from the comfort of the designer couches than the stiff-backed visitor’s chair in front of his desk. “Clover is just fine.”
Helene followed, sitting down with the grace and determination of a woman who knew what she wanted and knew exactly how to go about getting it. “This whole thing is ridiculous, Sawyer. Even Hudson agrees.”
“I don’t know,” Hudson said, sitting down opposite Sawyer. “I think it’s nice that the crazy kids are taking their time getting to the altar after such a dive straight into love.”
Helene narrowed her eyes and cut a glare at Hudson. “You’re not nearly as amusing as you think you are, young man.”
“Of course I am, you’re just too annoyed at my big brother to see it.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled the sigh of a martyr. “Where did your father and I go wrong?”
“My therapist has a list,” Hudson said with a grin for their mom and a wink for Sawyer.
He didn’t know what his little brother was up to, but as long as it took the heat off of him and Clover, then Sawyer was more than willing to sit back and watch the show.
“Enough, Hudson.” She held up her hand, the three-carat diamond wedding ring she still wore glinting in the sunlight streaming in through the window. “Stop trying to distract me from what we came here to do.”
Damn. The woman never missed a trick.
“And what’s that?” Hudson asked.
As if they both didn’t know already.
“Stopping your brother before this farce goes any further,” Helene said. “You can’t actually marry that…that…person.”
Red ate the edges of his vision away and heat shot up from his toes as his entire body tensed. It was a damn good thing he loved his mother because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what would have come out of his mouth next. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t have been the kind of thing a son should say to his mom. It took a second for him to remember how to unclamp his jaw, he was holding it closed with such force.
“She. Has. A. Name.”
“Fine,” his mom said, not giving an inch in her steel-hard posture. “Clover. You’ve been holed up with her for long enough. You haven’t come out to any of the charity functions or the family cocktail hour.”
He let out a cold laugh. “I can’t imagine why after what happened last time.”
“You mean when Mom threw a couple of Mrs. Carlyle wannabes at you in front of your fiancée?” Hudson asked, his tone jovial despite the worry crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Oh shut up, Hudson,” she said, her voice unraveling around the edges. Then she took a deep breath before patting Hudson’s knee in a non-verbal apology. “I’m just looking out for you, Sawyer. I only want what’s best for you. After what happened with Tyler Jacobson’s fiancée, Irena, I just want you to be with the kind of woman who can make you happy.”