Page 63 of Mayhem and Minnie

“Anyone?” she murmurs softly.

“Anyone,” I confirm. Her eyes flash at me. “Anyone but me.”

9

She stares at me, unmoving.

I cannot seem to move either, even though a few moments ago my body was more than capable of moving without intending to.

Her cheeks are flushed.

My eyes are drawn to the swell of her breasts as her chest rises and falls with every breath.

This is dangerous.

Far too dangerous.

I wrench my gaze away from that tantalizing sight, only to see her lick her lips.

Her pink tongue peeks out, and my pulse quickens.

However, the loud ringing of my phone destroys the moment.

I scowl and pull back, though I’m relieved for the intermission.

That is until I see the call ID.

I close my eyes and release a long sigh before I pick up.

“Mother,” I grumble. “Why are you calling? I’m busy.”

“Marlowe, dear, that’s not how you speak to your mother,” she chides. “Can’t I call to see how my favorite son is doing?”

“I’m not your favorite son and you know it,” I counter.

“Well, second favorite. But it should count, no?”

“Mother,” I groan. “You know I have a job. You can’t be calling me every day just because you’re bored.”

“I’m not bored. Perhaps lonely. But that’s because neither you nor your siblings ever bother to spend time with me,” she whines.

“You’re a retired rich old lady. I’m sure you can find some rich old lady stuff to do.”

“Marlowe!” She releases a scandalized cry. “I raised you for eighteen years. The least you could do is answer when I call and keep me some company. It’s not as if that job of yours is too time-consuming. All you do is sit in front of a computer and delegate tasks,” she continues.

I roll my eyes. Here it goes. While all my siblings have standard careers—lawyers and doctors—my mother has never forgiven me for abandoning my studies to start my own tech company. She thinks it’s beneath our family name. Never mind the fact that I make more than all my brothers combined just from sitting in front of a computer and delegating tasks as she calls it.

“Fine. What did you want to talk about?”

I give Minnie another look before I exit the dressing room and take a seat on the couch. I suppose I can entertain my mother for a while until Minnie gets changed.

Despite my grumbles, I do have a soft spot for my mother.

“Well, Giles called,” she starts.

“When does he not?” I fire back. “You forget that I know he visits you almost daily, Mother. Why you don’t openly date him, I have no idea.”

“W-what? Date Giles? Are you mad, Marlowe? What would people think?”

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