Page 68 of The Boss I Can't Stand
Connor snorted, slopping his drink. “Or if youdon’twise up, she’ll be just another ex-girlfriend for Grace to forget.”
His bluntness stung, but was he wrong? Ever since Layla, there hadn’t been anyone serious. Most of the time, the women I dated never met my family at all. The situation with Sierra was very different, of course, but would it have the same ending anyway?
I honestly wasn’t sure. I hadn’t let myself think about the fact Jillian’s PR plan had a termination date. In some ways, it felt safer to know we had that out. But in other ways, I hated it. I didn’t want there to be an out.
I didn’t want to think about life without Sierra in my kitchen in the mornings, brewing her crappy coffee and eating her blueberry muffins, or fighting me for the covers in the middle of the night, or sneaking cans of RevX into the cupboards.
I wanted her there in all these little ways. And that was terrifying. Wanting things like that meant you were putting yourself at risk of falling apart if you couldn’t keep them. And I couldnotafford to fall apart.
By the time we sat down to dinner in Liam’s rarely used dining room, I was two martinis in, with Sierra by my side, and had mostly pushed away those concerns for myotherconcerns. Mom’s cooking. My phone vibrated, and I discreetly glanced at it. Carlos was outside, ready with a real meal if this all went south.
“Okay,” Mom said, walking out with the first course. “Here we are! Pate de foie gras.”
“Oh, good God,” I muttered as it was dished around the table. Sierra prodded my foot. I cut my eyes in her direction. She couldn’t be serious. My mother couldn’t handle a roast chicken, and she wanted to jump right to duck liver?
“What’s fwa-grass?” Grace asked, stabbing her dinner with her fork.
“Foie gras,” my mother repeated, pressing a kiss to Grace’s head as she passed behind her, “is duck liver. And it’s delicious.”
“Duck!” Grace said, sounding horrified. “Like Donald Duck?” Her eyes met mine across the table, and she looked like I’d just told her the saved file for her farming sim had been deleted.
“Just try it,” Connor said diplomatically.
I stuffed a piece in my mouth to stop myself from saying something I’d regret, but then I regrettedthatimmediately. The texture was greasy and rubbery. It had clearly been overcooked.
“Good?” Mom asked, looking at Connor first. He smiled and nodded. That lying bastard. Liam and Mia did the same, forcing themselves to clear their plates, but I could tell by how long they were chewing they also thought it was awful.
“Yuck!” Grace said, leaning over her plate, a wad of half-chewed duck liver landing in a slimy blob. “Tastes like a shoe.”
“Grace,” Connor said awkwardly, turning his head to smile at Mom. “It’s just new to her.”
My mother glanced across the table. “Sierra, how is it?”
I looked over to see Sierra flush, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she searched for words.
Holy hell! The woman couldn’t lie her way out of this. Disaster was hurtling toward us so fast I did the only thing I could think of, snatched Sierra by the hand and dragged her out of her seat.
“It’s great, Mom. Why don’t you sit down? We’ll make everyone another round of drinks.”
I dragged Sierra into the kitchen, releasing her as I leaned over the sink to wash the taste out of my mouth. “It’s horrible.”
“It’s…not great,” Sierra admitted.
I wiped my mouth on a napkin, then went around to the back door where Carlos was waiting. “Thank God you’re here.” He walked in and set down his bag as I gestured to the mess in the kitchen.
“Okay, so there’s a whole lot happening here, and it’s pretty bad. I guess save what you can and ditch anything that tastes like a shoe?”
“The usual rules I cook by,” Carlos said, taking a whiff of something bubbling on the stove right as my mother walked in.
“Who’s this?” she asked, perplexed.
“Surprise!” I said with forced enthusiasm. “We thought it would be nice for you to be able to take a break and spend time with the family instead of cooking for us all night. This takes the pressure off you, and Carlos is happy to keep to the theme.”
Mom’s brow furrowed. “Oh,” she said softly. “Well…” There was a long, awkward pause as her eyes danced from Carlos to me to Sierra. “Yes, I suppose that’s a nice idea.”
Her voice hitched as she spoke, but she smiled politely at Carlos. “You can find the serving platters just over here. And this is the cookbook I’ve been working out of.”
Thank God.
