Page 40 of Heartless
“You are always welcome here, Mrs. Hartley,” he flashed a smile her way, then turned to me and whispered so that only me and my mother could hear him. “Go to your meeting, cupcake. I will take care of your mother.”
Cupcake?
My jaw slacked as he offered his elbow to my mother. She hooked her hand around it and the last thing I wanted to do was to leave them alone together.
“You can’t break rules because of my mother,” I said, keeping my voice as quiet as possible.
“My hotel. My rules. If someone may break them, it’s me. Besides, your mother’s not the one I’m doing it for, cupcake. No offense, Mrs. Hartley.”
My mother swooned. “None taken, honey.” She was eating his lies up. And he was a good liar. I didn’t expect that, so I just stared up at his face, waiting.
“No goodbye kisses in the lobby,” he said, as if we had already had that conversation. “Go.”
Then he turned around, my mother still hanging on his arm, and they left me staring at their backs.
As I was walking out of the lobby, I texted him.
Me: Cupcake? Seriously? And turn the charm off, please. I don’t want my mother liking you too much.
He didn’t even read my text, probably still playing the role of my new, dreamy boyfriend. And what exactly was the point in that? The entire purpose of this sham was to keep my mother out of my personal life, not become overtly involved because my boyfriend was her new BFF.
Just as I arrived at the floral shop half an hour later, he answered.
Parker: You think I’m charming?
Me: No. I think my mother finds you charming.
Antagonizing him was childish. I knew that. But I couldn’t help it.
Parker: I think so too.
I didn’t like the cocky side of Parker one bit, so I didn’t answer his message and went into the flower shop. An hour later, as soon as myfoot was out the door, I took my phone out of my purse and read Parker’s last message.
Parker: FYI, we’re going to your mother’s for dinner tomorrow night.
I closed my eyes and groaned in frustration. We were not prepared for this.
Chapter Fourteen
Parker
Isat on the bed in Madison’s room and waited for her to gain the courage to leave for her mother’s house. She was a bundle of nerves. I had never seen her so restless before.
This family dinner didn’t worry me. It wasn’t my first rodeo with demanding parents appraising me. I knew the drill. Madison, however, acted like she had never introduced a human being to her family.
Her reaction to this dinner served as a distraction from my own worries. I couldn’t stop thinking about the reconstruction of the gardens and how it would turn out in the end.
“You’re acting like we’re in an actual relationship and you’re afraid your mother won’t like me,” I tried to lighten up the mood a little.
Madison peeked behind the bathroom door. “I’m not afraid she won’t like you. I am afraid she’ll like you too much.”
“Afraid she might try to steal me from you?”
She just snorted, rolled her eyes and returned to the bathroom, but left the door ajar.
That was the most authentic behavior I had seen from her. A snort and an eye roll. She always behaved like a perfect lady. Like someone programmed her not to have emotions.
“You are impossible to please, aren’t you?” I tried to engage her in a conversation. “Do you want your mother to like me and leave you alone, or do you want her to hate me and try to set you up with someone else?”
