“Trentley?” His brows furrow. “Really?”
“Sir Trent Montgomery Bentley, do you pull out your chain mail on the weekends for secret rendezvous with your dragon-slaying girlfriend?”
He stops. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
I’m certainly not disappointed to hear that.
“Well, it just so happens that I have a Rapunzel dress tucked away in my closet, and maybe I’ll let you be my knight.”
“You really have a dress like that in your closet?” he asks, his lips twitching.
I wiggle my brows. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He shakes his head with a soft smile. “You’re nuts.”
I flinch.Ouch.I mean, on the money, but still. Kick me where it counts, man.
“What does your mom look like?” he asks before I can get a clarification on his earlier statement.
I glance in the restaurant behind Trent. “Well, when she left me a couple of hours ago, she was wearing a skintight silver dress with matching stiletto boots.”
“And you think she will look different now?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“You clearly do not know Gretchen Baker. It’s been three hours. She could have changed clothes at least three times, and her personality as well.”
“Well, don’t hold your punches, darling. Tell me how you really feel about me.”
This is unfortunate.
I whirl around, coming face to face with the woman who birthed me. “Hi, Mom.” I gather a slight satisfaction over the fact that she has changed.
“I was going to invite you and this nice young man for a drink. But maybe I’ll take him instead.” She shimmies up next to Trent, and my throat clenches.
“Sorry. He’s mine.” I grab his hand and tug him to me. Now he’s undermyprotection.
Mom rolls her eyes and flicks her hair. “Geez, I stole two boyfriends from you, and you act like I’m going to take them all.”
She didnotsay that. If there was a blackout in Vegas right now, I could power the entire city with my fury.
I clench Trent’s hand tighter. “Where’s my bracelet?”
“You mean the bracelet that should have been mine?” She wiggles her wrist and the gold jewelry dangles there.
I’m not getting into this now. I step toward her and seize her arm, unhooking the clasp.
“I ruined my body for you. The least you could do is give it to me.” She pouts.
And the least she could do is pretend to be a mother.
“I’m sorry my coming into this world was so awful for you. Most mothers willingly sacrifice their bodies and lives for their children, and still somehow love them.”
“Of course I love you,” she spits.
Yep. Felt the love. And the spittle. They feel about the same.
“But what does love matter? I’ve loved lots of men and each one ruined me just like you.”
And there it is. I don't know how she never figured out that the common denominator in all those relationships isher. Because she lacked the ability and desire to commit to anyone but herself.
