"Something'swrong," he said. "Tell me."
I didn'twantto tell him. I'd known him for less than two hours, but I'd seen enough of him to know that if he learned that my mom was here, he'd probably feel obligated to do something about it – as if hehadn'tdone enough for me already.
Skirting the issue, I said, "I was just thinking about my mom. That's all." I summoned up an apologetic smile. "Sorry."
"Don’t be."
Suddenly curious, I said, "Earlier, you didn't notice the resemblance? Between me and my mom, I mean?"
"I noticed," he said. "But I had her pegged for a sister, or maybe a cousin. Your eyes are very different."
Nowthatsurprised me. Our eyes were the exactly same color and shape. "Really?" I said. "Are you sure?"
His gaze locked on mine, and for the briefest instant, I felt like he was peering straight into my soul. "I'm sure," he said, "just like I'm sure you're not telling me the whole story."
Busted.
Again.
I bit my lip. "Well, I guess I'm just wondering…" I gave our surroundings a nervous glance. "What would you do if you saw her again?"
"Your mom? Ididsee her again, maybe ten minutes ago."
I stopped moving. "So you know she's here."
"Washere," he said. "At least as far as you're concerned."
I gave a little shake of my head. "What do you mean?"
"They're gone."
"Who?"
"Your mom and Dominic Jones."
I should've been relieved, but this posed a whole new set of worries. "You didn't kick them out or anything, did you?"
His gaze probed mine. "If I did, is that a problem?"
"No." I paused. "And yes. Maybe." I winced. "I just didn't want to cause you any more trouble. Or a scene." Silently, I considered the mansion, the guests, the music, the champagne, hell, even the valet parkers. "I mean, this is a really nice party."
Jax grinned. "It's no party without a scene."
I tried to laugh, but didn't quite succeed. I just had to say, "I bet you're sorry you met me, huh?"
"I'msomething," he said, "but it's not sorry. And about your mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry. Leaving was their idea."
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "I don't get it. Why would they want to go?"
"Because," he said, "a waiter pitched a tray of champagne onto his lap."
"Hislap? When?"
The question had barely left my lips when I heard a crash in the neighboring room. Jax gave me a secret smile. "Now."
