Page 86 of Her Billionaire Boss
“Am I bothering you?”I asked, absently pushing the button on the remote.
“No.The situation is bothering me, but you’re fine.”He sat up in his chair and propped the open book over the arm.
Since the situation was bothering him, I decided to engage in mindless small talk.Not that either of us could be effectively distracted when our siblings were both...well, we didn’t know exactly where they were or what they were doing.“Live TV is so weird after you’ve gotten used to streaming.Like, I have to sit down and watch stuff when the network says to?Why are they allowed to push me around?”
“What about Vegas?”Matt asked, picking up his cane to resume pacing.
I turned my head to watch him over the back of the couch.“What, like go there?”
“No.I mean, yes, if you’d like to.But I’m thinking about Scott and Catherine.Maybe they eloped there?”He mused.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought of the possibility.It had been the first thing I’d thought of.I hadn’t brought it up because I didn’t want to cause further drama.If Elizabeth was freaking out at the prospect of a divorce, she wouldn’t be happy at all with the idea of a cheap, quick wedding.
Also, I had my own doubts.“That doesn’t seem like something Catherine would do.”
“Neither was leaving her husband,” Matt pointed out.He stumbled a little, and it took him a second to get his balance.
“Hey, why don’t you rest?”I suggested softly.
“Yes, why doesn’t the cripple sit down, since he’s so terrible at walking,” he snapped, then immediately chastened.“Wow.I’m sorry.That was anger that should not have been directed at you.”
“Who do you want to direct it at?”I asked as he came to sit beside me.
“Scott.My mother.This whole fucking system.”He shook his head.
I took his hand in mine and frowned at the deep red depression across his palm.He tended to use his cane in whichever hand was most comfortable for the terrain, rather than in one static grip.Today, he was only using his right hand, bruising it raw.So, he must have been in a lot of pain and favoring his injured side.I didn’t bring it up, since I’d offended him so easily before, but I did gently massage his palm as he vented.
“She never would have run off with your brother if she hadn’t felt trapped,” Matt seethed.“No.She never would have gotten married if she hadn’t felt trapped by all of this bullshit.I feel like I’m realizing I’m in a fucking cult.”
I could see where he’d gotten that feeling; they were isolated, surrounded by people who believed the same things, had their own strict code of behavior, who mistrusted outsiders and shunned those who broke the unspoken rules of conduct.But he hadn’t come to that conclusion when he’d been seeking out “normal” friends or when he was eating coffee-maker ramen in the dorms.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion.“You look like you want to say something.”
Cautiously, I said, “I wanted to agree with you, but I didn’t know if it would annoy you.I’m trying not to heap extra stress on you right now.”
He closed his fingers around mine and lifted my hand to his lips, brushing a kiss along my knuckles.“You’re not extra stress.I’m glad you’re here.”
“Even after I said all that horrible shit to your mom?”I flinched as the words came out.He didn’t need to reassure me again.My guilt was my own problem.
“I told you, that’s not an issue.It was something she needed to hear.”He dropped my hand gently into my lap and scratched the back of his head.“You still haven’t heard back from Scott?”
“No.”I picked up my phone, as if it would magically make a text appear.Nothing.
“Maybe they’re on a plane, then.Headed to Nevada to get hitched.”His expression hardened.“You knowwhat?I hope they are.I hope they’re on a plane to Las Vegas and they get married by an Elvis impersonator and my sister comes back and runs the photos with a wedding announcement in every important paper in Connecticut.And New York.Fuck, I’ll help her take out a full-page ad in the New York Times to spite my mother.”
I wasn’t used to him talking about his mom in such a negative way.It didn’t give me the satisfaction it might have earlier in our visit.
I shifted toward Matt and slapped a hand on my knee.“Okay.We’re talking Vegas, let’s place our bets.”
Matt raised an eyebrow.
“Who’s going to call first?”I held up my phone as a visual aid.“Will it be Catherine, or will it be Scott?And who will they call?”
“Catherine isn’t going to call mother,” Matt said firmly.“And she damn sure isn’t going to call me.”
“So, you think Scott is going to call first?”
“I think so.”
