Page 25 of Worthy: Cassius and Faith

He squeezed my hand. “I know how important your brother is to you.”

My heart somersaulted; that tiny spark of hope ignited inside of me again. But then the elevator doors opened, and I was suddenly jarred from my warm feelings.

My mother stood in the lobby, arms crossed against her chest, her face twisted with rage. A security guard stood nearby, watching her.

“There you are!” she hollered when she saw me.

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I was here for my only daughter’s wedding, but that bitch wouldn’t let me upstairs to see my own children!” She pointed at the receptionist. “She called security on me!”

“I called security because I told you there was no open visitation right now, and you started making a scene.” The receptionist looked at us pleadingly. “I’m sorry I called security, but she threatened me. I didn’t want to interrupt your celebration.”

“You made me miss my daughter’s wedding,” my mother snarled, “and I’m going to make you pay, bitch!”

“Mom, stop.” I moved closer to her. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding. How did you find out about it?”

She lifted her chin, defiant. “I got a friend who works here.”

“Oh,” I said. It was probably her bookie. Or her dealer.

“He called and said it was all the talk about you getting married to some billionaire in Lucas’s room,” she said. “He said I better get over here quick if I didn’t want to miss it. How dare you not invite me! I’m your mother!”

“I had my reasons,” I said under my breath.

Her gaze flicked down to my engagement ring. The diamond was so enormous that her eyeballs almost popped out of her head. Her expression changed from angry to calculating. I had to give my mother one thing: she sure moved quick.

She glared at Cassius. “You owe me. You’re the one who wouldn’t let me upstairs—I know it!”

Just then, Leesa, the wedding coordinator, hustled down the hall, wheeling two suitcases. She took one look at my mother, at the disheveled receptionist, and Cassius’s angry face and stopped short. “Mr. Blackwood?” she asked. “Can I help?”

“Yes, Leesa, you can.” He turned to me. “What do you want to do with your mother, Faith?”

I blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath. “What do you want to do with her?”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” she hollered.

“It’s not your turn to voice your displeasure, Mrs. Kensington,” he said coldly. “This is your daughter’s day. It’s her turn.”

My mother fumed while I regarded him. “What are my options?”

“Jail—which is my first choice,” Cassius said immediately. “Or a garden-style apartment. I’m not doing nicer than that.”

“I’ll take the apartment.” I nodded vigorously. “Lucas wouldn’t want me to put her in jail.”

“You can’t put me in JAIL! I didn’t do anything!”

“You verbally assaulted this young woman,” the security guard piped in, motioning to the receptionist. “And you threatened her physical harm.”

Leesa stepped forward. “Mr. Blackwood, would you like me to assist you with finding Mrs. Kensington a suitable, garden-style accommodation? On the other side of town?”

“Yes. That would be lovely, Leesa. I appreciate it,” Cassius said.

“It’s your day,” the wedding coordinator said. “It’s my job to make it perfect.” She turned her blinding, mega-watt smile on my mother, who seemed disoriented by it. “Come with me, Mrs. Kensington. I’m going to find you a lovely new arrangement.”

My mother, being my mother, didn’t bother saying she was sorry to the receptionist. And she didn’t give Cassius or me a backward glance as Leesa led her out the door.

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