Page 3 of Second Chance Wedding
The sight, the memory, unnerved Ana even more because the visual was so strong due to the resemblance. What had happened to the little boy who’d followed her around like a puppy? Held her hand and curled up on her lap for a story. Who was this person?
Analise watched and prayed Benji—Ben—wouldn’t make any more of a scene than he already had. She sensed the furtive glances shot their way as they stood there glaring at one another in a battle of wills.
She might be his mother, but he fought her control and authority at every turn now. Everything was a fight, and she didn’t understand why. “Ben,” she said softly, “honey, I get that a gala isn’t something a teenage boy might enjoy, but can’t you tough it out for a few hours? Try the food and—Ask one of the girls to dance.”
“The food sucks, and so does the music.”
She wasn’t going to win this. Not that she’d really expected to. “Go sit somewhere and sulk then.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Benjamin, you are not a picky eater. If you’re hungry enough, you’ll eat some of the food being offered. The chef is amazing.”
“I want a burger.”
She fisted her hand over the forgotten glass in her hand. “Don’t youdarestep foot outside those doors.”
“Or what?”
Benji—no, this person was entirelyBen—smirked again, the look morphing to a snarl as he turned on his heel and stalked away in the tuxedo she’d spent far too much money on because once he’d looked at the options, only the most expensive one would do.
She watched as he yanked at his tie and almost elbowed one of the partygoers in the face as he stalked by them. Once Benji got the tie loose, he slung it to the polished marble floor without so much as a glance.
Ana bit back a groan and made her way to where the tie was about to get stepped on by a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. Once he’d cleared the area, she stooped low in her too-high heels and quickly swiped it up to tuck it into the tiny purse dangling from her shoulder. She’d just secured it when she felt someone watching and looked up to see Quinley across the room.
Their gazes locked, and her friend’s expression held the same censor and upset that Ana felt inside. Quinley’s displeasure with Benji’s behavior was clear, and Ana knew her friend’s upset was on her behalf, which made her feel even worse as a mother because it seemed no matter what she did now, she couldn’t force Benji to behave like a civilized human. And having Quinley and everyone else notice? She felt judged. And who could blame them. She’d certainly had a few my-kid-will-never-act-like-that moments over the years but now? What would they do in her shoes? She was open for suggestions.
She found herself blinking hard once again, exhaustion dragging at her. Physical, emotional. She was so tired, and she didn’t have time tobetired.
Ana snapped the metal clasp of the purse closed, taking a moment to collect herself. When she looked up again, she searched to see where Benji had settled for his sulk.
Except she didn’t see him in the seating area where he’d headed, and her stomach dropped like a stone.
Where had he gone?
She found herself slowly turning, visibly searching the crowded lobby for a sign of his raven-dark, blue-black hair and tall, too-thin body.
When that produced no results, she put her aching feet into motion and began slowly moving through the thick crowd to look for her son, fixing a smile on her face when she was stopped and congratulated numerous times on snagging such a prime location and fantastic opportunity. Did she have plans for expansion? Were her boutiques going to be included in the rest of the resort hotels? What advice would she give to other female business owners and entrepreneurs?
After thirty minutes of hair-pulling chit-chat that delayed her search and still not finding her son anywhere, she pulled her phone from her purse to check it right as a text buzzed in from Benji.
Mom come outside. Alley by kitchen
You weren’t supposed to leave the lobby!
She’d no sooner hit send when his next text arrived.
911
911? Did that mean he had an emergency? Or that she needed to call the police?
Mom hurry
Analise did an about-face and ignored the looks shot her way as she rush-walked toward the bank of doors and out into the cool November evening. The red carpet under her heels mocked her every step, and her breath fogged as she pushed through and then raced by the valets now gathered at the mouth of the alley between the hotel’s main building and the next.
She kept going, spying another small group gathered near a limo—including her son, who was being held in place in the open driver’s side door by his tuxedo lapels which were fisted tightly by a very large man.
Benji looked both red faced angry and pale at the same time. Her heart sank even as she took those final few steps to his side.
