I straightened before speaking again. “Let’s do a better job of steering clear of each other.”
Striding off, I didn’t look back.
An hour later, Will drove away. I stayed in the house while everyone else went outside to wave goodbye.
Chapter seven
PRESENT DAY
Will
“You can’t possibly be serious about staying here.” My mother gave me a pained look, running her manicured fingernail along the sill of my living room’s picture window. She moved across the room to the arched entryway of the kitchen, dipping her head to glance inside before retreating quickly, as though walking into my newly renovated kitchen was equivalent to entering a particularly foul porta potty.
“Mother, you’re being ridiculous.” While my apartment certainly had a lot of the quirkiness and character that came from being housed in a 1920s-era building, it had been completely gutted and redone with every conceivable modern upgrade. But the narrow hallways and cage elevator had my parents convinced it was basically a slum.
“I’m not,” she insisted. “Sweetheart, this move is ill-advised. What was wrong with your condo in Bellevue?”
“We’ve been over this. I bought that place because I thought it’d be a good investment—and it was—but it never really felt like me. This is a much better fit.”
She sniffed. “Well, your father and I don’t like it. Not at all. We hate having to worry about you so much.”
My chest tightened as the words hit like knives—digging into old wounds. Sighing, I sought to reassure her. “I’m twenty-nine years old, Mother. I can handle myself. Pretty sure you and Father don’t need to be on top of my living situation. Besides, you know full well this is a nice neighborhood.”
“It’s certainly…colorful,” she allowed.
“C’mon. It’s full of beautiful old architecture, million-dollar homes, and all the galleries, bars, and restaurants anyone can ask for. At my old place, the neighborhood died at eight o’clock every night.” I walked over to kiss her on the side of her head, feeling the crunch of her hair products. “I’m staying here, so you’ll need to make peace with it.”
“Well, I suppose it is good for you to be in a place where you can be more social. Get out and meet people.” She turned her head away and spoke to the wall. “You know, Rosalyn is still single. She asks about you sometimes—”
“Mother. No.” Her posture stiffened as she adjusted her purse higher on her shoulder. It had been a few months since she’d brought up my former fiancée, to the point I’d begun to hope myparents had finally accepted my choice to end the engagement. Especially since it had been almost four years. Apparently not.
But they would need to get over it because I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about Roz. If that didn’t confirm I’d made the right decision, I didn’t know what would.
Recently, only one woman had been on my mind. One with a sharp wit and even sharper tongue, not to mention a wicked sense of style. I couldn’t stop thinking about Maureen because, after a year of dodging one another, I’d be seeing her again in less than two weeks.
My mother brought me back to the present, laying a hand on the radiator cover. “Are you sure this is safe?” she asked. “I’ve heard these things can explode out of the blue.”
I scoffed. “Good grief. Have you been on TikTok again? I assure you, no explosions are imminent.”
“This electric panel looks old too.”
“All the electrical was just redone.”
“By a licensed electrician?”
“Yes.” I gritted my teeth. “This is my building. Do you think I’d allow shoddy workmanship?”
“Of course not, darling. I’m just saying that charlatans are out there trying to take advantage of good people like you. Certifications can be faked.”
I thought of Hank, the electrical contractor I’d hired for the building, a gruff older Gen-Xer with a reputation so sterling I’d had to wait months to get on his project list. I chuckled, imagining introducing him to my mother so she could accuse him of being a snake oil salesman.
“It’s truly amazing that you allowed me to handle millions of dollars’ worth of accounts at Wallingford, yet you don’t think I can hire someone to rehab a building.”
“That’s different.” She stepped over and reached for my hand. My right hand. “Your father and I were there with you at thecompany. And then these past few years, you’ve been making all thesechoices.” She hushed the last word like it was dirty. “Ending things with Rosalyn. Leaving Wallingford. Establishing your company. Selling your company. This building. It all seems a little…haphazard.” She ran her hand along the scars on my palms, over the taut skin where my ring and pinky finger used to be. “Sometimes it feels like you’re slipping away from us. Like I don’t understand you at all.”
I exhaled, grasping my mother’s wrist lightly to halt her examination. I’d let her and my father dictate my life for so long after the accident that they interpreted my making decisions for myself as a betrayal. They loved me, but for most of my life, that love had meant being stifled and smothered. The last time I’d attempted to rebel, I’d ended up in a medically induced coma with sixteen broken bones and minus two fingers. So I understood why they feared the worst.
Before I could reply, a knock signaled my father’s arrival.
