Page 263 of Billionaire Temptations

“Okay. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Take care, son.”

“You too, Dad.”

I had too much on my mind to stay in Chicago another night, plus I was starving for sex, and I needed to see Emily. With my father getting another divorce, his moving back to New York, and my mother’s pending divorce, it took a toll on me.

When I arrived back in New York, I stopped by Jules’ place before heading home.

“Hey.” She opened the door and hugged me. “What the hell is going on with our parents?”

Stepping inside, I headed to the bar in the living room corner and poured myself a scotch.

“They’re batshit crazy. That’s what’s going on.”

“Is Dad seriously moving back here?”

“Yes. He’ll be here permanently in two weeks.”

“Jesus Christ, Jackson. I can’t even wrap my mind around all this. Both our parents are getting divorced again, and Dad’s moving back. Should they even be in the same city?”

“I don’t know.” I poured another scotch and downed it in one gulp. “All I know is that I’m staying out of it. I don’t care if they’re both getting divorced, and I don’t care if they’re at each other’s throats. I have my own life and issues, and so do you. Parents or not, they are no longer our problem.”

She stood there with her arms folded lightly, nodding her head. “I agree.”

I set down my glass on the bar and kissed her cheek.

“I have to get going. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter Thirty

Emily

I walked into Scarpetta fifteen minutes early with a bundle of nerves that resided in my belly.

“A booth for two, please,” I told the hostess as she greeted me.

She grabbed two menus and led me over to a corner booth with high backs. It was the perfect spot that would give Gregory and me more privacy.

“What time will your guest be arriving?” she asked as she set down the other menu across from me.

“He should be here in about fifteen minutes. My name is Emily, and he is an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair.”

“Very well. I’ll be on the lookout for him.” She smiled.

I arrived early so I could down a martini to calm my nerves before he showed up.

“Good evening.” The peppy waitress smiled as she set down a drink napkin in front of me. “What can I start you off with?”

“I’ll have a neat martini with three olives.”

“And your guest?”

“I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask him when he arrives.”

“One neat martini with three olives coming right up.”

My drink couldn’t get there fast enough as I sat in the booth and pondered whether or not I was ready to hear what Gregory had to tell me. The waitress walked over, and before she could set my drink down, I grabbed it from her hands and immediately took a large gulp.

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