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“Can you believe she said I got to where I am today because of who I was with? What the hell?” My muscles clench, still pissed she insinuated that. I wash the sour taste off my lips with another ice-cold brew.
“Fuck her. She’s the type of woman who thinks behind every strong man is a stronger woman.”
I bob my head. “Well, I can kinda understand that,” I say, my thoughts trailing to Aspen and how much of a strong personality she has. “But I didn’t get here today because of a woman.”
He drinks to that. “So, have you talked to Mo, lately?”
I shake my head, leaving out that I haven’t talked to her in almost a week. I keep telling myself to be patient. But I was stupid to not get her phone number. I figured she would have texted me by now. As far as Don knows though, she went home after visiting.
He sits forward on his elbows, putting all his weight on the table. It creaks and my eyes widen, waiting for it to give. But it doesn’t faze him at all. It wouldn’t be the first table that he has broken.
“Let me get this straight. You and your PR chic got in a fight about a woman you’re not even talking to? And you fired her?”
There’s no way to explain it that he'll understand. “That's a minor piece of the picture, Don. I don’t want to get into it.” Donnie and I were both drafted the same year, so we’re close. When you rely on a man to keep you from getting wrecked, it forms a bond. So, when he respects me enough not to push, I’m grateful as hell.
“Did you hear Jasper might go to Tampa?” he asks, changing the subject.
Now, that just brightened my day.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Aspen
I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Will I be what they imagined? Running the brush through my hair again, I can’t help but feel it’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. I’ll disappoint them somehow.
Since we got back from the island, I’ve researched my parents, readying myself for the meeting. I look like Beatrice, my mom. So much so that I thought I was looking at a picture of myself when she was younger. Except the eyes. She has dark warm-brown eyes. David, my father, has green eyes. I have a mixture of the two.
Halli steps into the room right as I swipe the brush through my locks again. She replaced her normal relaxed attire with black slacks and a white button-up blouse.
“Don’t you look professional today,” I say, attempting to add humor into the serious moment.
She shrugs one shoulder, smiling. “I guess I have to work sometime.” As if she hadn’t been working the last few days. She has these guys on such a detailed schedule, she knows when they pee. Nothing gets by her. Not even Ryker. “You look great, Aspen.” She reaches for the brush to pull it out of my tight grip. “Just try to relax. In these situations, there's no right or wrong. Let things happen, naturally.”
“In these situations? This happens often?”
She sighs. “Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time. It’s the most public, though.”
“That is not making me feel any more relaxed.” I spin in place and walk to the bed, plopping down on it. My feet slide into the black booties and I stand, holding my arms out wide. “Do I really look okay?”
“No.”
“Non? Qu'est-ce qui cloche?” I panic, glancing down at my black sweater, dark jeans, and boots.
She squeezes my arm, pulling my attention to her. “Nothing is wrong. I was kidding.”
My eyes narrow at her. “You’re not funny.”
“I never claimed to be.” She laughs, slipping her arm through mine. Having her around the last week has helped me navigate the unknown. The agency knew what they were doing sending her. “Yes, you look perfect. Are you ready?” She leads me to the door. “You’ve got this, Aspen. If you need to take a mental break and remove yourself from the situation that is totally understandable. Shoot me a glance and I’ll make an excuse for you to leave. This is on your terms.”
The closer we get to the living room, I shake out my hands and my feet freeze right before we enter. A flicker of apprehension courses through me, but then the sound of warm laughter fills the air. It’s her. My mother. The sound is confusingly calming. Halli stares at me, as if giving me all the time in the world. I offer a small smile of gratitude and nod that I’m ready.
She pulls her arm out to straighten her shirt and stands at attention. We walk in and all talking ceases as eyes turn toward us. Specifically, on me. The air thickens making it hard to breathe, my body heats as my nerves bounce off each other. When Beatrice’s eyes lock on mine, tears flood her eyes as she pulls in a sharp gasp. Both she and David stand up from the couch, but only Beatrice walks over to me. I can’t take my eyes off her.
Dreaming about what it would be like to meet my mom was always in the back of my mind. This isn’t the picture I had in that dream. I can’t imagine the torment she went through. Her hand shakes as she raises it and touches my face with the soft tips of her fingers.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispers before catching herself. She yanks her arm back, holding it down with her other as if she can’t help herself. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head at her apology. “It’s okay. I’m sure I kicked you a few times,” I reply, pointing to her belly.
