Page 11 of Fourth Point Of Contact

“Around Kansas? Was she coming anywhere in particular, or were you just going to fly her in and hope I picked her up?”

“Patti, you know I only want the best for you.”

“I’m not interested in marriage, Mom.”

“You always say that, but you don’t know what it could be like. You might really like having a woman around to cook your meals while you’re out in the fields.”

My mother still thought I had moved to Kansas to be some kind of cowboy or farmer like in the movies. She refused to believe that I got out of the military and continuedplaying with guns,as she put it.

“I’m not out in the fields, and I don’t need anyone to cook my meals.”

“Patti, when your father?—”

I heard the sharp intake of breath and fucking knew she was on the verge of tears. Fuck, I hated when she cried. Sighing, I leaned back in the chair and prayed she didn’t fall into one of her depressions. She had been doing so well, but ever since my father died, just bringing up things like how she used to cook for him made her go all teary-eyed.

“When your father came in from a long day of work, I always had dinner on the table for him. I want that for you. I want you to have someone who lives to be there for you.”

I cringed. That was the last thing I wanted. Mom and I were very different. If I ever dated a woman and really liked her, I wanted more than a servant or a maid.

“Mom, it won’t work. I’ll never have what you and Dad had.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not like the two of you. I love my job, and I’m not looking for a woman to complete me.”

“But—”

“No buts. I’m happy with the way my life is.”

“You’re going to die alone, and then what will I do?”

“You’ll learn to live your life for yourself. Face it, Mom. I’m going to be a bachelor for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll never believe that.”

“Then you’re going to be very disappointed when you don’t have any grandchildren.”

I knew that was hitting below the belt, but she had to get this fantasy out of her head. I never saw myself as a husband or a father. In fact, the idea of having kids wasn’t scary. I just didn’t want them. I liked not being responsible to anyone but myself. I didn’t want to come home and think about what my wife wanted or if my kids were happy. I enjoyed life, and that’s the way I intended for it to stay.

“Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind.”

That was the only thing I could promise her, so I did it. Because in the end, I loved my mom and I wanted her to be happy, even if I gave her that with false hope.

5

PIPER

Walkinghome with clouds looming over my head matched the depression I felt sinking in my bones. I was not at all as happy as I was this morning when I left the apartment. In fact, the only thing keeping me slightly on the upper side of misery was the fact that I’d spent all morning and most of the afternoon in the bar, drinking my cares away.

Or I would have if the bartender hadn’t kept forcing water down my throat and watering down the drinks. Stupid asshole. My feet were thoroughly soaked as I stepped in puddles from newly fallen rain that must have soaked the city while I was drinking my cares away. These stilettos had been a horrible choice this morning. Of course, I hadn’t known I would end up leaving the office on my own instead of the town car that always brought me to work.

I should have spent the morning looking for a new apartment. Now, I had nowhere to go tonight because I sure as hell wasn’t staying with James. A tear dripped down my cheek as I thought of how just twelve hours ago, I had been so happy. I thought I was getting married and had already started looking at wedding dresses. I was going to be a princess.

Instead, I would probably have to sell my entire wardrobe, along with my left lung, to be able to afford an apartment. I didn’t relish the idea of going back to the studio apartment style of living I had started with. James had spoiled me with luxuries I never would have been able to afford, even on my excellent salary as his personal assistant. New York was just too damn expensive.

I reached the door to our building and tried to smile at Charlie, our doorman, but failed miserably. “Hey, Charlie.”

“Ms. Piper. Something wrong?”

---