Page 33 of Crying Shame
He shook his head. “Her doctor is competent and on call, but she was a friend of my mother’s, which is why I answered her questions and calmed her down.”
I elbowed him and then sipped from my glass. “So at some point, your mother must have tried to set you up, as she hated to see you all alone.”
Wearing a huge grin, he rubbed his arm. “You remember those awkward social events she’d drag her sons to? She'd introduce us to all her friends' daughters.”
I shrugged, settled onto the sofa, and relaxed. “Mostly, I remember you sneaking off with me.”
He laughed.
I’d not exactly been an invited guest, but I’d acted like I belonged.
“I think she lost all her sons within an hour,” he said.
Now that I thought about it, it was odd that I'd always been at those social events. My parents wouldn’t have brought me willingly.
“Maman is excited to see you again,” he said.
I needed to get out of my own head. “I want to find a way to repay you for bringing us here.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Just stay with me for a few minutes.”
My heart beat faster. We'd agreed to be friends. The truth was I wasn’t ready for more, and I hated living in a dream. “No flirting?”
He nodded. “You’re the one in charge of that.”
Adrenaline rushed through me. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. I focused on the rim of my glass. “I’m not in charge of anything.”
Disaster was my middle name. I trembled, put the glass down, and smoothed out my shirt. “You have no idea. My life has been one disaster after the other, really.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
Never. I’d been a fool, and if he realized that, he might not want me to stay. I curled the corners of my lips higher. “I’d prefer we focus on how long you and I can stay here in Connecticut pretending.”
He squeezed my knee. “There is no pretending with me. I like you, and I’m hoping you and Sam stay forever.”
That set off dreams of me holding Elon’s hand—forever. I picked up my glass. “Would you watch out for Sam if something happened to me?”
Or when Sam realizes all he needs is his father, and I'm forgotten?
He pressed his hand over his heart. “With my life, though nothing is going to happen to you.”
“Then I’m glad we’re staying,” I said and sipped. His voice was so calming, I wanted to believe him. I stared at his lips, and memories of his kiss washed through me, leaving me tingling.
After we almost finished our glasses of wine, he slid a box with a blue ribbon tied around it over to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s a present.”
The last thing I needed was to turn dependent on him. I met his gaze. “A house, clothes—it’s all too much already. And I don’t need your money.”
"Just open it."
I untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a set of keys. I held them up.
“I had your car shipped, but I’m hoping you take the BMW instead in case you want to get out and explore the town.”
My heartbeat quickened. He’d be embarrassed by my twenty-year-old yellow clunker that he’d overpaid for. I tilted my head. “You had one of your cars sent for me?”
