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Isabella: We seriously need to discuss your obsession with me.
Me: We can have it in my bed.
She sends only one word back in reply.
Isabella: No.
I groan softly. I swear she likes making me work for things.
Me: What’s it going to take to get you to come here, Isabella?
She doesn’t immediately reply. When she does, my heart pinches a little as I read the text.
Isabella: Explain why you were so unhappy to see your mother earlier.
Me: Seriously, Sunshine?
Isabella: Yes. Promise you’ll tell me and I’ll come over. Is she still there?
Me: Not at the moment but she’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, she won’t mind if you stay over.
Isabella: Okay. But you still haven’t answered me.
I finally accede, typing out the words and sending them although a part of me doesn’t want to.
Me: I’ll tell you what you want to know.
Isabella: Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.
Relief fills me. I got what I wanted, but at what cost?
Half an hour later, Isabella’s walking through the elevators of the penthouse. I pull her into my arms as soon as she’s within reach, breathing in her scent.
“I missed you, baby.”
“I seriously never would have pegged you as a guy with attachment issues,” she mumbles against my chest. “You saw me this morning.”
“I’m aware,” I retort. “And I missed you.”
She laughs. “You’re lucky I’m finding this cute. Have you eaten?”
I pull away from her with a chuckle. “Yes, I had some pizza an hour ago. You can be such a mother sometimes, Isa.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Considering I met your actual mother today, that statement is not appreciated.”She takes off her jacket, following me into the house. “Where is she?” she asks in relation to my mother.
“Probably at the Mincetti mansion. I tried to convince her to just stay there full-time during her stay in New York, but she can be pretty stubborn.”
“Why don’t you want her staying here?”
“For one, I had plans to fuck you on every surface of the house, but that’s probably not going to happen anymore,” I tell her, waggling my eyebrows.
She slaps my arm. “Don’t tease me. Be honest.”
I rub my arm, a little put off. I wasn’t fucking joking. But I also know she won’t let this go until we talk about it. Once we do, then she’ll be ready to get to the fun stuff.
She and I both take a seat on the couch. Isabella puts a hand on my shoulder comfortingly as I start to speak.
“You already know parts of my family’s complicated history. I’m pretty sure most of the world does,” I start. “My mother used to work as my dad’s secretary. She was in young, in her early twenties, and he was the company’s CEO. I guess one thing led to another and they started an affair. My father was married at the time, to Xander’s mother. And even worse, she was expecting Xander when they had their affair,” I say bitterly.
