Page 98 of One Billion Reasons

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My mother meets me near the office for lunch, at a French restaurant I prefer. It’s simple, with a terrace of seating that allows us to sit at a corner table.

She gives me a hug, and I try to be gentle. She’s still so slight, almost frail from too long without eating properly or walking enough.

“How was the wedding?” she asks when we’re settled and have put our orders in. She sounds good today. Grace must have been over recently for dinner.

“Fairly awful, but Amanda seemed to appreciate that I was there.”

“I heard you and Lane mended things,” she says slyly. Her eyes glint with happiness.

“What are you getting at?”

“Oh, nothing.” She sips the white wine she ordered with lunch. “I’m just happy she’s coming back to celebrate Thanksgiving with us.”

“Mm-hmm.” I raise a brow. “What are you really getting at?”

“Well, I sort of always hoped that Lane and you would…you know.” She waves her hand in my direction.

“We would what?”

She huffs. “I love Lane like a daughter. You know that. I just hoped that one day there would be more between you. And before you get annoyed at me for meddling, you asked.” Her mouth is set, daring me to challenge her.

“I think I love her,” I say quietly. “That’s why I’m here, actually.”

“You think, or you know?” She raises a brow.

“I know.” I finally meet her eyes. They’re sharp and pale blue in her tanned face. “I didn’t want to admit it for years.”

The waiter brings our food. A crepe for her and steak frites for me.

“Why not?” She cuts into her crepe with precision.

“Mom.”

She looks up. I never call her Mom. I’m a thirty-year-old man with a business empire. It’s embarrassing.

“Watching you waste away after Dad’s death nearly killed me. And over the years, your marriage wasn’t always easy. There was friction from how he didn’t fit in. You wanted him to quit working. Love just always seemed…too painful. It makes you weak.”

She frowns and sets her fork down. “That’s not the lesson I would have wanted you to learn from our marriage,” she says slowly. “And I’m sorry about last year.” She squeezes my hand. “Losing your father was very difficult for me.” Her words come out choked, and she clears her throat.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want to,” she says fiercely. “I miss your father. Every day. But love never made me weak. Love made me stronger. Every time we went to a party, I had someone who would laugh about the stupid things people said. Every time I had a bad day and needed someone to rely on, he was there. And raising you wasn’t easy.”

“I bet,” I say with a smile. “I was a wild kid.”

“You were.” She grins ruefully. “Your father was the one who knew how to handle you. I was never a parenting expert.” She shakes her head and her smile falls. “You were raised with love, though. My life would have looked very different had I married someone else, particularly someone from my world. If I could go back in time, I’d pick your father all over again.” She swallows hard and takes a sip of her wine.

“Thank you, Mom.” My voice comes out rough.

She gives me a misty smile. “So, Lane?”

I nod. “Lane. And I need you to help me get her back.”

43

Lane

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