Page 71 of Billionaire Romance

10

Eric

I pull up to my mother’s house in the middle of organized chaos. There are at least three trucks parked outside and a whole host of staff are carrying things inside. Most of those things are colored in shades of red and pink, and I fight the automatic sickening in my gut at the sight.

Why today?

Of all the days my mother could have picked for a party, it didn’t have to be today. She could throw a party any time she wants. But of course it’s Valentine’s and I’m in hell.

The only thing that’s going to make this day remotely better is Sally. Last night was amazing. I swear I could have kept my face buried in her pussy for hours just listening to the sounds she was making. But I’m not going to take it too fast, no matter how much I want to jump into bed with her. The last thing I want to do is to go too fast and ruin this, because against all odds, I like her.

Not because it’s strange that I would like someone like Sally, but because I never expected to have this level of connection with someone my sister met by accident. A blind date. Even after just two days, the idea of not seeing her again is painful. I’ve never believed in love at first sight, and I still don’t. But Sally seems to be proving me wrong about lots of things. Maybe, just maybe, she’s going to prove me wrong about how quickly someone can fall for someone else.

Even if I’m desperately afraid of that, and I know that usually leads to people getting hurt.

I get out of my car and dodge someone carrying an absurdly large plant, and head inside. My mother’s estate is huge, and it could take forever to track her down. But my guess is that she’s in the ballroom supervising the demonstration of this monstrosity.

I am, for once, entirely correct.

My mother is directing the raising of some vividly red drapes around the ballroom, with two young men on ladders trying to do what she’s commanding them to do.

She doesn’t see me come up behind her. “I think it looks fine,” I say.

“Oh, Eric,” she turns, a big smile on her face. “Thanks for coming out. It’s good to see you.”

“Your message sounded urgent, are you all right?”

She waves a hand, “Oh, I’m fine. I just needed help with something before tonight. Thought you might be the one to do it.”

“Okay,” I say, hesitating. “What is it?”

“We’ll get to that.” She turns back to the guys on the ladders. “You can take a break, boys. Come, have some tea with me.”

There’s already a table set up in the middle of the room where she can hold court. “I don’t drink tea, Mom,” I say, giving her a hug. I can’t help but notice how frail she feels. These last few years have been hard on her, since my dad left, and it shows to those of us who are paying attention, whether she wants us to notice or not.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t sit with me while I take a break. Just a short one though, there’s still so much to do.”

“You could always postpone the party to a different day.”

She pours herself a cup of tea from the elaborate pot. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t cancel a party on the day of, that’s just bad manners.”

I sigh, folding my hands together since I don’t have a cup to occupy them. “Well, my point being that you didn’t have to schedule a party on Valentine’s Day.”

She meets my eyes, daring me to disagree. “I think Valentine’s Day is a perfect day for a party. Everyone should feel lovely and happy and beautiful, and a party is a good way to do that.”

I don’t say anything.

She takes a sip before she starts in on the questions that I already know are coming, but are hard just the same. “I know you don’t think highly of this day, but I’m just trying to do my part to make sure you’re happy since you don’t seem to be taking that responsibility for yourself.”

“Mom,” I say, trying to keep a patient tone. “I am happy. Just because it might not be happy in the way you expected doesn’t mean that it’s not valid.”

“You need a woman, Eric. A good one. Men don’t do well alone. They get crazy ideas in their heads and then they do crazy things. You need a woman, and you need one soon. you’re not getting any younger.”

I grit my teeth together, trying to breathe through my frustration. “Forcing me into it isn’t the way to try to achieve that.”

“Are you bringing a date to the party?”

I nod. “You made it a requirement, so yes, I’m bringing date to the party.”

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