Hollywood Heir (Westerly Billionaire #4)(10)

“Have you seen coffee man again?”

“Not since our walk.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“I wish I agreed. He’s so unhappy. It’s heartbreaking.”

“What’s his name?”

Sage hesitated. “If I tell you—you’ll do a background check, won’t you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“He’s not a criminal.”

“You don’t know that.”

“How about we wait until he gives me a reason to believe he’s dangerous before we violate his privacy?”

“How about we find out everything we can so we don’t have to worry about him violating yours?”

“I don’t see everyone as a potential threat, you know.”

“And I don’t believe tossing fairy dust makes the world a safer place. Come into my office tomorrow and I’ll introduce you to an older couple who wish they’d had a background check done on the painter they hired . . . the one who came back with his friends to beat and rob them. I’m not paranoid. I’m aware.”

I hate it when she corners me with a good point. “Wayne Easton. That’s his name. That’s all I know.”

“Don’t be upset, Sage. I worry about you. You’re a pleaser—that’s not always a good thing. Don’t cut anyone excuses just because you think they’re dealing with something. Everyone has problems, but not all of us let it affect how we treat other people. People need boundaries.”

“Speaking of which, did I mention that my father thinks I need professional help?” Sage updated Bella on the conversation she hadn’t until then been ready to repeat.

“He’s the one who needs help. I know he’s your father, but he’s also an asshole.”

Another point I can’t argue. “What do they say is one sign of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? What is wrong with me that I always think if I’m just a little nicer, try a little harder, he’ll see something good in me?”

“Oh, Sage. There is more good in you than in most people I know put together. I wish I could wave a wand and give you the parents you deserve, but life doesn’t work that way. They never came back for you at boarding school, Sage. They’re not coming now. I’m sorry. You need to start accepting your relationship with them and stand up for yourself.”

As if on cue, Sage’s phone beeped with an incoming call. “It’s my mother. Can I call you back later?”

“Sure. Especially if you need me. I’ll be working on a case tonight, but just reading for it. I can take a break.”

“Thanks, Bella.”

“Sage. Practice this word—no. Whatever she wants, it’s probably the right response.”

“I’ll try.”

“Are you fifty years old?”

“No.”

“Are you blonde?”

“No.”

“Can I have five thousand dollars?”

“I don’t have that much, but—” Sage stopped herself with a laugh. I do have a problem. “No.”

“Exactly. Okay, you sound ready. Good luck.”

“Love you, Bella.”

“Love you, too.”

Sage pressed a button on her car panel to switch the call. “Mom?”

“Sage, how are you, sweetie?”

“Good.” Sweetie?

“How’s Bella?”

“Great. I was actually on the phone with her. She has a new apartment in—”

“Yes, well, I was wondering if you could do me a tiny favor.”

“Okay.” Shit. Should I have said no? How could I when I don’t even know what she wants?

“I received a call from a very prominent woman from Boston. She’s in London for a short time. I still can’t believe she called me. I mean, I know who she is, but I had no idea she knew who I am. This woman is old money. Better connected than God. She’s dating royalty—that kind of connected. Anyway, she bought a small estate, only ten bedrooms, and is looking for someone to help her expand the rose garden. Finally, there’s hope your education wasn’t a complete waste. If you swear to me that you will keep your craziness in check, it would mean a lot to me if you met with her and talked me up.”

Wow. “I have all the clients I can handle right now, Mom.” Not true, but my mother never could understand my faith that more work would come. “If this woman is as connected as you say, she’ll already have found someone.”

“This is important, Sage—make the time.”

“I can’t. And what you said was hurtful.”

“Stop. Don’t make this all about you. If you don’t want to do it, just say no.”

“I don’t want to do it.”

“You would say that to me after everything I’ve given you? When do I ask you for anything? Anything? This is what happens when you give your children too much—they become little brats who won’t do a single thing that doesn’t immediately benefit them.”

Here goes nothing. “No.”

Her mother sighed. “I’m asking you to do one thing for me. One thing. Meet this woman and tell her your mother is a wonderful person. Is that so hard to imagine yourself doing?”