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"Of course, sir." I offered him a faint smile of sympathy for having an overbearing mother like his.
The look he gave me back was speculative, but before I could pin down the reason, he turned on the heels of his expensive, Italian shoes and followed his mother into the building.
CHAPTER 2
GABRIEL
"I'm serious, Gabriel," Mother said the moment we stepped inside the air conditioned, marbled cocoon of the building. "You need to get yourself a wife. If you don't find one, I have several to choose from. In fact, perhaps I should plan the wedding and tell you where to turn up and when."
She turned that look on me. The one she used when she wanted to convey that she intended to do just that. Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth turned down in displeasure.
I knew that look all too well. She generally tended to get her way when she turned that on anyone. Anyone but me. Specifically, in regards to this topic.
"You will not choose a wife for me," I said firmly. "My life is not a reality TV show."
She looked horrified. "I should think not. The Ellison family is not a circus."
My eyebrow twitched, but I didn't bother to correct her.
We might not be a circus, but we'd been the subject of tabloid speculation often enough that it felt like we lived in a fish bowl. For some reason, when you had money, people seemed to think they were entitled to every detail about your life. Where you go, what you eat, who you fuck.
I did what I could to avoid attention, but it found us anyway. Of course, my mother's highly public charity work contributed to that. How awful it would be if her generosity went unnoticed.
Yes, I am often sarcastic in my thoughts. Especially where she was concerned.
Her expression softened slightly. As much as her Botox would allow for. That's off the record. She'd deny using the stuff until the proverbial cows came home, but no one was fooled.
"Gabe." She spoke in her softer, cajoling tone now. "All I want is your happiness. You can't blame me for that. I know I haven't always been the most affectionate mother, but I want what's best for you."
She wasn't the most present mother either. If I had to, I doubted I could name all the people who raised me for her and my father.
"You want grandchildren," I told her. Personally, I couldn't see the attraction. Babies were messy, loud and demanding. Why would anyone introduce one to their otherwise quiet existence?
She smiled. Her shoes clicked as she walked across the marble floors toward the bank of elevators. "Of course I do. You were such a sweet baby. Who wouldn't want several little Gabes running around?"
"I'm allergic to babies," I said.
She laughed. "You haven't met the right woman yet. When you do, you'll want nothing more than to spend your life with her, giving me beautiful grandchildren."
"I think you're confusing me with Tom." My brother Thomas turned his back on the billionaire lifestyle in his late teens. He picked up a guitar, joined a rock band and never looked back.
Last time I checked, he was on his way to making his own billions. Unlike me, he was living his best, carefree life. If I got a tattoo, our mother would have a heart attack.
Tom lost count after his thirtieth. Tattoo, that is, not birthday. He hadn't reached that milestone yet. I'd bet anything no one would expect him to suddenly become an adult the moment he left his twenties.
Mother snorted. "Thomas has to grow up before he can become a parent."
"That's not how biology works," I said dryly.
She rolled her eyes at me, which was totally fair. "I didn't mean it literally, I meant I wouldn't inflict his lifestyle on an innocent child. Speaking of lifestyles."
And just like that, the conversation turned back around to me. Goody.
"I expect you to bring a date to the party on Saturday night," she said. "If you can't find one for yourself?—"
"I can," I said quickly. The mental image of Mother choosing a date for me wasn't a pleasant one. Her idea of the perfect woman for me was someone who wore a lot of make-up, had perfectly styled hair and clothes and laughed like someone shoved a finger up their ass. The last thing I needed was someone who was only interested in me because they wanted access to my bank account. I'd rather be a crazy cat guy than be tied to someone like that.
Shame I'm allergic to cats, too.
