Page 34 of Obsessed Heir

The diligent attendant immediately springs into action, offering her an arm to leverage herself upright before transferring her into the wheelchair. Once she’s settled, hewheels her over to join me at the table. He exhibits more grace than what I’ve managed so far.

“Thank you, James,” she says warmly as he locks the chair in place and steps back.

Once she’s comfortably positioned, I take a seat across from her. “And how are you feeling, Mother?”

“Oh, I’ve been doing quite well, all things considered,” she replies. “Abby has been such a great help to me since we boarded. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

My jaw clenches as a familiar surge of irritation bubbles up.

“I’m sure she has,” I reply through gritted teeth. I should have expected her to work in praise for her beloved daughter-she-never-had.

“Barron, don’t be like that,” she chastises as James wheels over the warming trays. “Abby is such a wonderfully caring, thoughtful young woman. She’s always looking out for me, making sure I’m comfortable and have whatever I need.”

“I’m sure she is.” I try not to let the sarcasm drip from my tone. “Though isn’t she supposed to be caring for you instead of handing you off to James?”

“Abby isn’t feeling well,” she reminds me, her voice holding a defensive edge.

“Hm.” Any answer I give on this particularly thorny subject will only displease her even more, so what the hell.

“It’s no trouble at all, sir,” James pipes up, adding his two cents before he sets her plate down. Fantastic. Abigail has successfully recruited yet another member for her little fan club.

“Don’t mind him, James,” Mother says with a weary sigh. “Barron is just being a smidgen difficult this evening.”

James sets my plate in front of me. He has enough sense to keep his thoughts to himself as he pours our wine.

“I’m not beingdifficult,” I correct while reaching for my napkin and laying it across my lap. “I don’t see why you needAbigail constantly hovering around you. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Interesting you should say that. Perhaps you missed James helping me into a wheelchair,” Mother points out, her lips turned down slightly.

Okay, so maybe not the best time to make my point. Though, in my defense, I’m not sure any time will be appropriate.

James, ever the consummate professional, steps away to wait quietly.

“We can take it from here,” I offer, letting him make his getaway.

“I’ll go prepare your coffee service,” he says then leaves us to our privacy.

“Not to keep returning to the subject,” I continue, undeterred. “But isn’t Abigail the one who put you in this wheelchair to begin with,” I point out, cutting into my duck breast.

She pauses, her utensils poised over her plate.

“You may not have noticed, Barron, but I’m what most people today would consider an elderly woman,” she remarks with finality.

I keep my mouth shut this time.

“I’m still mostly capable of taking care of myself. However, there are times when an extra bit of help is welcome, if not outright necessary.”

“I understand that, and I’m sure we could have arranged for a more suitable?—”

“And Abigail,” she continues, as if I hadn’t spoken, “has been an absolute godsend in that regard. I would be helpless without her.”

I sigh in resignation. There will be no getting through to her. “I worry about you, that’s all. I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you.”Or your money.

She reaches out and pats my hand. “I appreciate your concern, dear, but I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“But—”

“I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my choices,” she says, sounding anything but sorry. “But, I assure you, Abby is not taking advantage of me or my finances in any way.”

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