Page 95 of Auctioned To Be Mine

“That’s good,” I said. “The auction side in on track, too. I don’t want to jinx it, but so far, so good.”

My eyes darted around the space. I had been working for a couple hours. Callum could have arrived at any point without me noticing. I didn’t want a sneak attack.

“He’s not here today,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Callum,” she said with a soft smile. “He had something to handle with his real job. He’ll be in later this evening to check on the runway setup.” She paused. “In case you might want to know.”

“Thank you,” I said and hated how emotional I sounded.

She nodded once, watching me with eyes that saw too much. “Walk with me a moment.”

It wasn’t really a question. And I wasn’t about to piss off another Blackwell. We headed out the front door into the cute plaza surrounded by shops almost as nice as Blackwell Couture. I was a little biased though. I also hadn’t really browsed through any of these shops because everything was way outside of my price range.

“I know something has happened,” she said. “I won’t pretend otherwise. He’s my son and I know him. And you have the look of someone carrying something heavy. I don’t see that brilliant smile. Your eyes are sad and a little puffy. I know that look.”

I probably should have been offended, but she wasn’t saying it to be mean or to insult me. She cared. I didn’t know what to do with that. I had been alone with this for days. Completely alone.

I hadn’t called anyone because there was no one to call. Cleo was his sister. Mimi was his aunt. I had no one in this city who was mine and not his. I couldn’t tell Betty. Our relationship was currently strained. The loneliness had been difficult.

“Can I be honest with you?” I asked.

What I was really asking was could I tell her without having her tell Callum I told her.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Whatever you say stays between us.”

I almost cried. A confidante. Even though she was his mother, I sensed she meant what she said.

“He followed me to a business meeting,” I said.

“Explain,” she prompted gently.

I told her about Jeff Connors and the lunch. The way my professional credibility had taken a hit. And Betty’s disappointment, which was truly one of the worst parts of the whole situation. That and my broken heart. I told her about my parents. Not all of it but enough.

By the time I finished I felt hollow. And lighter. I’d been carrying all of that around for too long.

“I know how strange this is,” I said. “Talking to you. He’s your son.”

“He is,” she said.

I shook my head. “You don’t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have unloaded on you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She paused for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When he busted into your meeting in that restaurant, what was the first thing you felt? Before the anger.”

I pressed my lips together. I had been trying not to think about that part. “Relief,” I admitted. “I was happy to see him.”

She smiled.

“It doesn’t make what he did okay,” I said quickly.

“No,” she agreed, nodding. “It doesn’t. I’m not going to defend him. I love him and I know exactly who he is, which means I know exactly what he did wrong and why he did it.” She paused at a bench under a small palm tree, providing shade, and we sat. “Callum has always had an… active social life. But he never brought any of his lady friends around. He was never serious about any of them.”

My breath caught in my throat. “And you think he’s serious about me? We’ve only known each other for a month.”