Come As You Are(62)

A voice cuts in. “Everything okay, Mr. Parker?”

I nod to Claude. “I’m all good.” I turn back to Sabrina’s mom. “You’re saying Sabrina told you to come see me today?”

“She sure did. I saw you two kissing like lovebirds on the street, since I was coming to town to visit her. And after my sweet girl and I caught up once you left, she said you’d be so willing to help me out. That all I’d need to do was come see you and give you the details.”

I rub a hand over my jaw. This is a brand-new pitch for me. A proposal I never could have expected. “She did?”

Maureen nods, chewing gum and smiling as if it’s the last thing she plans to do today. “She told me where you worked, and how generous you are, and how you always like to help her family.”

“I do love to help her,” I say, studying Maureen’s face, trying to see any signs of love for her daughter, for her son.

“And since you’re some kind of billionaire, she said it would be easy-peasy for you to give me ten thousand dollars for a new business I’m trying to start. Since that’s what you do, right? You start businesses?”

“Is that what Sabrina told you?”

“Of course, and I read all about you on the internet.”

“Then you’d know I’m not a billionaire.”

She laughs lightly. “Billionaire, multimillionaire. What’s the difference?”

“A comma. A very important comma.”

She parks a hand on her hip and juts it out to her side in what is likely supposed to be a sexy stance. “What do you say to helping the woman who gave life to your new lady?”

A hundred thoughts run through my head. Someday, I’m going to write them down and pen a book—All the Wild Pitches.

And this pitch would take the top spot. Win the gold medal. The Academy Award.

It would win it since there was once a time when I might have believed this woman. A few months ago, maybe even a few weeks ago. Not because she’s believable, but because I trusted no one. I’d been burned by women. My old habits would have died hard in this lobby, and I’d have suspected Sabrina was up to no good.

But I’m not that guy anymore.

I know who to trust. I know who to believe.

“Ms. Lancaster, you want to know what I say to your offer?”

“I sure do,” she says, giving a coy little twirl of her hair.

I straighten my shoulders. Draw a deep breath. Speak the truth. “I would say that you have an amazing daughter and an incredible son. Maybe you ought to focus a little bit more on them.” I take a beat, hoping to give weight to my last words. “Because she’s amazing in spite of you, not because of you. Have a great day.”

I walk away, letting Claude know he can see her out. That’ll make him happy, since he’ll be doing his job.

I need to do mine too. The job of being a great boyfriend.

Once I’m upstairs in the office, I make phone calls. I pull strings. I call in favors.

“Can we get that done by the end of the day?”

The woman on the other end hems and haws. “That’s going to be hard.”

“I’d really appreciate whatever you can do to rush this.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I don’t want to wait to give this to Sabrina. I want to give it to her tonight.

When I hang up, my phone rings, her name flashing on the screen. I answer immediately, and she asks if I have time to meet her.

“Absolutely.”





34





Sabrina



I can’t help but grin when I see Flynn at the coffee shop by his office.

Here he is looking business handsome in dark jeans and a simple white-and-green-striped button-down that doesn’t look like it costs a million bucks. It looks like it costs maybe sixty or seventy dollars and I kind of love that he doesn’t have to flaunt anything except his big brain. I do like that part of him.

We order tea and coffee and grab seats at a small table.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks.

“I was thinking about your big brain.”

“I was hoping you were thinking about my big dick.”

“Trust me, I’m thinking a lot about that too, but right now I’m thinking about something else.”

His voice is kind when he says, “Is it your mom? She stopped by this morning.”

A bolt of tension slams into me. This is my nightmare—my gold-digging mom fishing for Flynn. “What? She stopped by to see you?”

Please say no, please say no.

He reaches across the table for my hand. “She asked for money.”

I gasp, covering my mouth with my free hand. A fresh, hot wave of embarrassment crashes over me, threatening to pull me under. Mortification has a new definition—me. Flynn detests being used. I can’t bear that he might have thought I played a part in her appearance. “I’m so sorry. She showed up this morning out of the blue. I had no idea she was going to do this. I didn’t tell her to find you.”

“I know.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s okay, Angel. I told her no. In fact, even when she tried to pretend you’d sent her over, I knew she was lying. I didn’t fall for it.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head. “This is a new low for her.”