Crazy Love (17 page)

“Is Master Marc in?”

Bingo. He’d dispensed with the small talk and was reasserting his reason for listening to a desperate old lady rambling.

“Marc went out early this morning. Not sure where or how long he’ll be. He’s staying in the apartment over my garage, afraid I don’t know about his comings and goings.”

Unless she peeped out her blinds every time she heard his door open to see if he was heading over to Sierra’s, that is.

“Anything I can do? Give him a message?” She paused and delivered her
coup de grace
. “Or you could come in, have a cuppa and wait if you like.”

In true stiff-upper-lip style, he didn’t bat an eyelid though she could’ve sworn she glimpsed horror in his blue eyes.

Who could blame him? She wasn’t exactly dressed to receive visitors: her green cotton leisure suit had seen better days, her hair needed a trim and she’d barely had the energy to splash water on her face this morning. Little wonder he looked ready to bolt despite his insistence on seeing Marc.

“Thanks for the offer but I might take a look around town. If Marc gets back, could you tell him I’m looking for him and his cell phone is off?”

“No worries. If you need anything…” she trailed off, feeling foolish. Like he’d come knocking on her door again in a hurry.

To her amazement, he smiled and the action softened his semi-stern expression. Not to mention the weird sensation it created in her stomach, like she’d eaten one of Essie’s day-old burritos, a fluttery, scary tumbling she knew couldn’t be good.

“That’s very kind of you. I might see you again.”

With a wave that resembled the Queen’s, he walked down her path and out the gate.It took all of three seconds to realize she was staring at his arse and she quickly slammed the door.

“I’m too old for this shite,” she muttered, her well-worn phrase doing little to calm the peculiar churning in her gut as she tried to forget his smile.

Marc sat across from his mom and sipped at his tea, unable to shake the surreal feeling he’d stepped into an alternate universe.

Monday mornings usually comprised a quick scan of weekend emails, monitoring the latest projects, checking the opposition and planning the week’s takeovers. Instead, here he was having a leisurely breakfast at a farm trying to come to terms with his mom’s pending nuptials.

“More toast? Another egg?”

He shook his head, in shock after seeing his mom cooking and the fact it tasted good. At home he’d never seen her near a stove let alone turn one on to whip up a meal.

“I’m fine.”

Her eyes twinkled as she placed her empty teacup in its sauce.

“Sure? Seems like you haven’t been fine since you bowled in here the other day ready to whisk me off to a mental institution?”

He managed a wry grin. “I was a bit overprotective.”

“I’ll take it as a sign you care.”

Never one to show his emotions, he struggled to find the right words before settling for the truth.

“I love you, Mom. ‘Course I care. I always have.”

He’d just had a lousy way of showing it and it had taken his mom’s battle with booze to snap him out of his selfish reverie.

“I know you do, Sweetheart. I love you too.” She reached forward and touched his cheek. “We haven’t been close in the past but I aim to remedy that. It means a lot to me you’ve decided to spend some time in Love, getting to know Hank and coming to terms with our wedding. It can’t be easy for you.”

She had that right. Being out of his comfort zone wasn’t a feeling he relished and spending more than a weekend in this town should’ve sent him into a spin. However, he’d mellowed since he first hit town. Maybe it was his attraction to Sierra, his bizarre fondness for his whacky landlady, the Mexican food to die for at the time-warp diner or a combination of everything this place had to offer that had him more relaxed than he’d been in ages.

“You mean Annie?”

She nodded, taking her time to refill her teacup, not quite meeting his eyes. He’d always sidestepped every attempt she’d made to discuss his failed marriage, making excuses, citing work. Now they had a chance to discuss it yet he was no closer to divulging a thing.

“You never spoke about her once the divorce was final. Do you ever hear from her?”

“God no!”

His outburst had her chuckling and he reluctantly joined in.

“Annie was a mistake. She used me to escape that hokey town, I used her to make dad mad. We were doomed from the start.”

“Did you ever love her?”

Good question, one he’d asked himself on countless occasions and he came to the same conclusion each and every time: he’d never loved her, had never loved anybody.

“We had a strong attraction, it was enough for a while.”

“It’s never enough. But what’s done is done, time to look to the future.”

She patted his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Long overdue, us spending time together.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “A-Corp practically runs itself these days so a little R and R won’t hurt.”

His mom’s mouth dropped before she hid her surprise with a chuckle. “Whatever’s gotten into you, I like it. Never thought I’d see the day where you took time out, not unless it involved entertaining clients.”

“I’m not George.”

As soon as the words popped out he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut as the sparkle in her eyes waned.

“It’s okay, honey. I thank God every day you’re nothing like your father.”

That’s where she was wrong. It was his greatest fear, that he was as much of a bastard as George.

He’d married Annie to disprove it, to show he could marry and make it work yet had failed, her accusations of heartlessness and coldness chilling reminders he was like his father despite efforts to the contrary.

Then there was the business arena, where he’d hear himself bark orders over the phone or drive a deal home with callous indifference and get a startling glimpse of how his father operated.

And now, by besting George he could take his company all the way to the top yet jeopardizing his growing relationship with Sierra in the process, making him as merciless as the old man.

He didn’t like it, any of it, and no matter how much his ruthless streak helped take A-Corp to the top, he couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching fear he was the spitting image of George in every way.

“I ran into him yesterday.”

While he wished he hadn’t mentioned the G word, it gave him an opening, a way to broach his mom’s feelings for her ex and how they could be influencing her choice of husband number two. “At a café on Rodeo Drive of all places.”

“I thought you went home to pick up some stuff? Stopped for a Ristretto on the way?”

“Sierra came with me. She was at a loose end, wanted to do some shopping so she tagged along. That’s how I bumped into George.” Chatting up
his
date. “No big deal.”

If he thought mentioning George would result in a swift change of topic, he was wrong. More than likely she’d hone in on the one topic he didn’t want to discuss: his growing interest in Sierra Kent.

“How is George these days?”

Oh, she was good. Instead of pouncing on the juicy tidbit of why Sierra had accompanied him to LA, she skirted around the issue. As if she gave a rat’s ass what his letch of a father was up to.

“The same. Fake, obnoxious, smarmy.”

He took a deep breath and plunged on, now as good a time as any to broach the subject of her being on the rebound from a man sporting those dubious traits, and hoping he’d distract her from wanting to know more about Sierra.

“You know what he’s like. After putting up with him for so many years I’m not surprised you’d want to spend time with Hank.”

“Hank is nothing like your father, thank goodness.”

She twisted her hands, the same action he’d seen a thousand times when she’d been married to George. Even memories of him were enough to elicit a nervous reaction.

“Though it’s not the reason I’m marrying Hank if that’s what you’re implying.”

So much for subtlety.

Her hands continued to flutter, at odds with her direct stare. “Hank Stevens is a good man and it didn’t take me long to realize it. I’m hoping by spending time here you’ll see it too.”

“But it happened so fast, Mom.”

He managed to bite back the rest of what he was about to say: ‘
And you met him through an on-line dating agency, how the hell can you really know him
?’

She smiled, a self-satisfied grin he’d never seen. “When you get to my age there’s no use wasting time. Besides, I knew Hank was the one before I met him. We emailed for a while, spoke on the phone several times before I plucked up the courage to meet face to face, though by that time I was already halfway in love with him.”

Miraculously, her hands stilled while she spoke of her feelings for the farmer. So the guy had a calming affect on her. That wouldn’t last long if he took every cent she had.

“Why not live together? Why marry?”

And give Hank easy access to her fortune.

She shrugged, the same secretive smile playing about her lips. “Because he asked and I love him enough to say yes. Simple.”

Simple? There was nothing simple about this entire scenario considering his mom had thirty million in assets, her fortune growing daily thanks to his careful investing on her behalf, and he knew next to nothing about the man she was marrying. The sooner that local PI investigating Hank Stevens came through with some info, the better.

His mom had been lucky to get the money, her aunt leaving her twenty mill in her will and though she hadn’t said it he knew it had been a catalyst in securing her future away from George.

She’d left him the week after the money came through, going as far as to tell George to shove his paltry settlement of the house during divorce proceedings.

She could’ve cleaned George out after what she’d endured but she’d wanted to put the past behind, to have nothing to do with the man who was a constant reminder of the hellish years.

George had never given either of them a cent and they liked it that way; added to the satisfaction of making it on their own, proving money could buy you hair plugs, teeth whitening and a face lift, but couldn’t buy happiness and for all George’s fake bluster, the old guy couldn’t be truly happy. How could he be, when he’d let the best thing in his life walk out the door and shack up with a farmer a scant twelve months after the divorce?

“I trust Hank one hundred percent, Sweetheart. We have no secrets. A nice change for me, don’t you think?”

His hands clenched under the table, his gut churning with how much pain she’d tolerated. Along with the psychological abuse, George hadn’t kept his dick in his pants for longer than five seconds according to rumor and despite his mom pretending otherwise while she’d been married to the jerk, she must’ve known about his affairs. In addition to the shoddy treatment she’d endured daily she’d been hurt badly by his philandering, all the more reason for him to protect her this time around.

“It’s only been a year, Mom. I’m worried you’re moving too fast, that you’re on the rebound—”

“That’s enough.”

Her icy tone matched her frigid expression. Yeah, like that would make him stop. He cared too much to let this go, desperate to make her rethink her decision before it was too late.

He didn’t want to rehash the past, rehash painful memories of a time best left forgotten, but he persisted in the hope of getting through to her.

“Have you told him about the drinking?”

Shadows clouded her eyes before she blinked, dispelling them as quickly as every argument he put forward.

“Yes, I told him everything. We talk all the time. It’s refreshing.”

Hell, this put a different slant on things. He never expected her to recount the horror of her plunge into despairing alcoholism, to the farmer. She rarely talked about it with him after she’d won her battle with the bottle and he’d been supporting her every step of the AA way.

Divulging the truth to Hank meant she trusted him, truly believed in him, and went some way to assuaging some of Marc’s fears.

“We’ve already established George and Hank are like chalk and cheese. You sure that isn’t the attraction here?”

She stood and turned away, the scraping of the chair legs against the wooden floor the only sound in the room for what seemed like an eternity.

“Mom?”

As he reached out to her, she whirled around, the steely glint in her eye signaling her determination. He’d only seen that look a few times, usually when she’d been organizing some charity benefit and things weren’t going according to plan. This time he was the one throwing a bug in the floral arrangement and was about to cop a mouthful for his troubles.

“I’m only going to say this once. You’re smart and I have nothing but admiration for what you’ve achieved despite your upbringing.”

She held her hand up, as if expecting him to interrupt. “I know I wasn’t the world’s greatest mom and I’m sorry for what you had to witness between your father and me but all that’s in the past. You survived it, I survived it. I’ve wised up, worked through my issues and moved on. All I’m asking is for you to have faith in my decision-making capabilities and treat me like an intelligent woman, not some lovesick teenager who doesn’t know a dependent crush from the real thing. Think you can do that?”

Hell. He’d never seen her so wound up, even after George’s infamous vase throwing incident. Time to retreat. Fast.

He stood and folded her into his arms, dropping a peck on the top of her head.

“For you, anything.”

She pulled away, looked up at him, the sheen in her eyes slugging him in the gut all over again.

“You’d think I’d be put off marriage for life after what George put me through but that’s just it. We didn’t have a real marriage, nothing remotely like it. What I have with Hank is right. We’re meant to be together.”

What could he say? She sat and refilled her cup while he shook his head at the offer of a top up.

“Now we’ve got a few things straight, tell me about LA.”

“Hasn’t changed much since you were last there. Smoggy, busy, chaotic. The usual.”