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Of course, she doesn’t have any big news on the dating front. I do, but I’m not sharing that with Mom. In some ways, I’d like to. I think she’d be horrified that Dylan is my boss, but I think she’d actually like Dylan himself if she got to know him the way I do. But the risks outweigh the rewards of spilling, so I stay tight-lipped about it for now.
“I’m keeping my focus on work,”I tell Mom, which is basically the truth. Or close to it. I mean, Dylan is kinda part of work…except when he’s not.
Thankfully, our food comes a few minutes later and we get lost in talking about how delicious it is, trying each other’s entrees. Mom in particular never sniffs around my social life again during dinner, and after the meal is done, we step out into the chilly night air.
"I’m heading home tonight, so I’d best be going,” Melinda says, giving us each a hug. “It was so good to see you, and thanks again for letting me invade your mother-daughter dinner,” she tells Mom.
“Anytime,” Mom says. “Great to see you too.” We watch as Melinda hails a taxi, climbs in, and disappears into the night. Mom turns to me. “My train leaves bright and early in the morning, so I’m probably going to crash, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, Mom. I’ll come back to the hotel with you,” I offer, but she waves me off.
“No, you two go out and have fun. I know it’s still early for you city folks.” She winks as though she’s in on our secret of being up-all-night party animals, which neither of us is.
But…
“If you’re sure, Mom. I don’t mind crashing into bed and taking you to the train station early in the morning,” I try again, just so I can say I made a fair effort even though I’m hoping she doesn’t want me to go with her.
“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you, Raven?” She tilts her head, her lips pursed. I blink, not sure what she’s talking about. She sighs. “There is a big, fluffy bed in that hotel room with my name on it. One I don’t have to share, where I can’t hear anyone snoring, and where I can sleep totally naked if I have a middle of the night hot flash and nobody will care. So leave me to it, sweetheart, and go have your fun.”
My jaw drops open in surprise and then I laugh. “Well, okay,then. Good night, Mom. Call me when you get home tomorrow so I know you’re safe.”
She gives me a wry look. “That’s my line. Except do not call me tonight when you get home. I will be blissfully sleeping." I hold up a hand, not wanting to hear any more about her nude sleeping plans, and she chuckles. “You just wait. One day, you’ll know what I’m talking about. A big bed all to yourself is a gift and I’m not wasting it.”
“I’m sure Dad would love to hear that,” I deadpan, and Mom laughs.
“You think he doesn’t know, and wouldn’t do the same thing? I’m the one dealing with the hot flashes. He’s the one dealing with me.” With that, we say our goodbyes and I put Mom into a taxi headed for the hotel. She smiles, waving as they pull away.
“You coming home then, or…?” Maggie asks, raising a brow.
I twist my lips, thinking, and then sigh. “Yeah, I don’t want to do the late night ‘you up?’ text thing, you know?” Honestly, I do want to do that. But I’m not sure I should.
She links her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s spoil ourselves then and get a taxi too. My treat.”
“You’re the best,” I say, laying my head on her shoulder. “This almost makes up for your getting our moms on our cases about our dating life.”
Maggie huffs out a dry laugh. “Whatever, you love me.”
I nod because she’s right, I do love her. I especially love that she doesn’t give me a single bit of shit as I pull out my phone the second we’re sitting in the taxi and doesn’t say a word as I text Dylan even though I literally just said I wasn’t going to do that.
CHAPTER 18
DYLAN
Sometimes, I’m still a little shocked at how far I’ve come. I grew up not having a bed to myself until I was in college, and the first pair of brand-new, off the rack jeans I ever owned came during my sophomore year. Until then, everything I owned was a hand me down or thrift store special.
There was a time when my apartment wasn’t much bigger than your average fast food restaurant bathroom, and I could cook dinner without getting out of bed. Heat was a luxury, and in the summer, I cooled myself off as I slept by using a single electric fan, smog or air quality be damned.
Now, my pantry’s bigger than that first apartment, and I sit in the ‘games room’ of my eight thousand square feet, two-floor penthouse. With a touch of a button, I can make this entire place any temperature I want, including the floor. And if I feel like it, at a moment’s notice, I can hop on a private plane andgo anywhere in the world in less time than it used to take me to get across town.
And that’s only some of the many things that have changed in my life.
The list could stretch from my balcony all the way down to the street, most likely. But it can all be encapsulated by the fact that I can look at a thousand dollars sitting on the table in between me and the four other men who are joining me tonight and not even blink as Austin takes another small stack of chips and pushes it into the middle. As he said when we talked about setting tonight up, a thousand dollars is pocket change to us. Currently, we’re playing hold ’em, and it’s Austin’s bet. “Raise five hundred.”
“Check, check, check, raise,” Teddy, who’s the dealer this round, complains. “Every fucking hand, he’s the same way. Check his way through unless he has to see someone else’s bet, and only then raise. Never fold, never call. You would think he’s got ice in his veins.”
“Maybe I do, Teddy,” Austin says casually, leaning back in his chair. Teddy’s grumbling is more than likely an act, but Austin’s not going to get baited into revealing his strategy. “But it’ll cost you five hundred to find out.”
Teddy, who’s a mutual acquaintance but not quite a friend to Austin and me, peeks at his cards again and sighs. “Not this time,” he says, tossing his cards toward the muck. “Claire would kill me if I did.”
