Page 43 of Executive Decision

“Mom, I didn’t ask you to dress me,” I said. “And I wasn’t asking your opinion.”

“Leave him alone,” Chloe said. “You should be glad he was even willing to escort you. He wouldn’t take me.”

We were trapped in a car speeding towards The Chicago Botanic Garden’s annual fundraising gala. When Tom fell ill, Mom thought she might miss her shining moment of the year—an excuse to wear a red dress in her sixties with no shame. I jumped in to save her as I planned on attending. Chloe somehow elected to go with a friend of hers. They all rode in my motorcade because Mom liked drama.

“Do not embarrass me—either of you,” Mom said. “That is all I ask.”

It was Mom’s moment to shine. It was expected that her arch nemesis—Lady Danna—would sit this one out due to her husband’s death. I attended this early-Summer event to schmooze like a good politician, but my heart wasn’t in it. Years ago, I’d shut down party after party with the Delphine Holdings team. Now, those days were gone. Most everyone had gotten married, had kids, or retired and I was the last lone wolf in the bunch—or would have been had I not been strong-armed into escorting my mother this evening.

At the gardens, we departed to a step-and-repeat.

I recognized a tall blonde ahead of us.

“Kristy!” I called.

She turned, taking a moment to focus on who shouted. She waved and weaved back. She was her normal, vibrant self—looking statuesque in a lilac-colored dress. Unfortunately, a man followed—a younger guy with ruddy hair and a slightly-goofy smile. I stood awkwardly, trying to assess the situation while Kristy and Chloe discussed dresses with Mom.

“Kristy, how are you?” Mom asked.

“I’m good. I’m a little nervous since I left Laurie at home with my mom, but apparently, she’s asleep and sleeping better than she ever does with me there.”

“They do. They always do,” Mom said. “And… who is your friend?”

She turned the screws. I wanted to die.

“Ah, everyone, this is Paul Vello. Paul, these are my dear friends—the Markham’s. Chloe, Elise, and Cal, this is my boyfriend.”

I could have fallen over if I wasn’t holding my mother. I felt Mom’s eyes on me, looking for the painful reaction, but I wouldn’t grant it.

“You’re the mayor, right?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “That would be me.”

“Paul, what do you do?” Mom asked as we moved forward in line.

“I’m an artist-in-residence right now at the Art Institute.”

“Oh, cool! What medium?” Chloe asked.

“Oil paints,” Paul said.

“Cool.”

I said nothing, wanting to crawl into a bush over being the last to know. Kristy never said she was seeing anyone. Leaving this out felt like a violation of trust.

“Oh, there’s my date!” Chloe waved her hands. “Anton! Oh my God! There you are!”

She rushed off to join a pocket of young hipsters in pastel suits.

“That’s not her boyfriend, right?” Mom asked, concerned.

“Uh, Elise, I don’t think any of those boys are going to be dating Chloe anytime,” Kristy snickered.

“He’s a choreographer,” I confirmed. “One of them is his boyfriend.”

“His boyfriend? Then why is he with her?” Mom asked.

“I have no idea,” I said. “I am guessing it has to do with social media.”

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