Page 123 of Falling for the Grumpy Bad Boy

I sighed. “No.”

“Clementine.”

I sighed and went to sit at the kitchen island, watching her hands move expertly as she prepared the casserole. There was something comforting about watching my mom cook. She didn’t cook like me or Dad. She made her meals from the heart. Her food was amazing. I sometimes wondered if she got upset that Dad seemed to get all the glory.

“It’s complicated, Mom.”

She glanced up at me, her expression soft but knowing. “Most things worth talking about are.”

I picked at a loose thread on my sweater. “It’s Rhett.”

She nodded. “Yes, your father told me.”

“I bet he did,” I muttered.

“I’d like to hear it from you. Tell me your side.”

“I really liked him. Like, really liked him. More than I’ve ever liked anyone.” The words came out in a rush. “But it doesn’t matter because it was never going to work anyway.”

Mom set down her spoon and turned to face me fully. “Why not?”

“Because it’s just infatuation, Mom. I mean, what do I really know about relationships? About love? I’m twenty-four and I’ve never had anything serious. This was probably just me getting swept up in the excitement of being in different cities, working with all these incredible chefs. He’s older, experienced, successful. Of course I was attracted to that.”

She was quiet for a moment, studying my face. “You don’t sound convinced.”

I wasn’t. That was the problem. Even as I said the words, they felt hollow. What I had felt with Rhett hadn’t felt like a crush or infatuation. It had felt real and deep and terrifying in the best possible way.

“It doesn’t matter what it was,” I said. “It’s over now.”

“Is this about the press coverage?” Mom asked gently. “Your father mentioned there were some articles.”

My stomach clenched. “You saw them?”

“A few. Nothing too scandalous, sweetheart, but I can imagine how overwhelming that must have been.”

I buried my face in my hands. “Mom, they were calling me his ‘mystery woman’ and speculating about our relationship. There were pictures of us together, and people were commenting about his family, his past. It’s awful. Dad wasn’t happy.”

“Your father will be fine.”

“It’s not that Dad is unhappy, it’s the fallout.”

“You’re worried about how that might affect tonight? The soup kitchen?”

I looked up at her, feeling tears prick my eyes. “Dad has worked so hard on this project. It means everything to him. The last thing I want is for my drama to overshadow what he’s trying to accomplish. What if reporters show up tonight looking for a story about me and Rhett instead of focusing on the charity work? What if this becomes about gossip instead of helping people?”

Mom came around the island and wrapped her arms around me. “Oh, honey.”

“I can’t be the reason Dad’s dream gets turned into some tabloid circus,” I whispered against her shoulder. “I won’t be.”