Page 63 of Our Secret Summer

Dylan waved off his comment and continued what she really wanted to say. “Raffo has offered to invest the money from the sale of her and Mia’s house into my new agency.”

“Ha,” Connor said. “So you are U-Hauling, just not in the traditional way.”

Dylan ignored his comment. “Before I make a decision, I wanted to get your input.” Her son’s opinion on this was important to her for many reasons. And she no longer wanted to hide anything significant from him.

“Raffo can do whatever she likes with her money.” Connor stared into his wine glass.

“But do you think I can accept it? That Ishould?” Dylan’s instantaneous ‘no’ had changed into a maybe over the past twenty-four hours. She had called Gustavo back and asked the agency for a few more days to decide. Dylan was fifty-fifty on whether she should let Raffo invest in her new business—hence her need for a second opinion. She traced the rim of her wine glass, remembering how Raffo had presented the idea—not with grand gestures or flowery words, but with that quiet intensity that made Dylan feel both seen and slightly unmoored. Like standing at the edge of something vast and promising.

“You’re asking me?” Connor seemed a little taken aback.

“Yes.” Dylan nodded.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my son and I value your input on things, but also because I know you’ve been worried about me since my, um, disastrous investment and this doesn’t feel like something I should do without consulting you.” Dylan hadn’t yet mentioned the obvious. “And because Raffo is your friend and, well, I want to make sure she’s not just offering me the money because she’s so…into me.”

“She hasn’t talked to me about it,” Connor said. “She probably thinks it’s between you and her.”

“I’d just like to know what you think, darling.”

“I think that Raffo is so in love with you, she would give everything she has to make you happy. I think that neither one of you are thinking very straight right now, but that doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing.” He sent her a soft smile that reminded Dylan of when he was the sweetest little boy. “If I’ve learned one thing from this whole debacle it’s that it’s okay to just go with the flow. I tried to resist you and Raffo being together and it didn’t make anyone happier. I could advise you not to take Raffo’s money, but to what end? You’re both intelligent adults and I’m sure you would have the necessary paperwork drawn up to protect yourselves against whatever might happen in the future. But if you’re going to be together, then why wouldn’t you let her invest in your start-up? It’s pretty obvious that you don’t want to take another managing job.”

Dylan absorbed her son’s surprisingly mature advice. She took a sip of her wine, contemplating his words.

“I suppose this means you’re officially more grown-up than I am. Should I start coming to you for life advice now?”

Connor snorted. “God no. I’m pretty sure giving your mom your blessing to date your best friend violates some universal law of nature.”

“Ah, yes,” Dylan deadpanned. “Newton’s lesser-known fourth law of motion: A son shall not advise his mother on matters of the heart, especially not when it involves his best friend, lest the fabric of space-time unravel.”

Connor grinned. “Exactly. I’m just trying to prevent the collapse of the universe. You’re welcome.”

Dylan smiled warmly at him. “My hero. Saving the world, one awkward mother-son conversation at a time.”

“It’s a tough job,” Connor sighed dramatically, “but someone’s got to do it.”

They shared a look before breaking into quiet chuckles.

As their laughter subsided, Dylan reached across the table and squeezed her son’s hand. “In all seriousness, thank you, Connor. Your support is so important to me.”

Connor squeezed back. “Just don’t make me regret it by walking in on you two making out on the couch or something.”

Dylan rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re grown women, not teenagers. We have perfectly good bedrooms for that sort of thing.”

“Mom!” Connor shouted, his face a mix of horror and amusement.

Dylan smirked. “What? I thought we were being straightforward with each other now.”

Connor shook his head, laughing despite himself.

They clinked glasses, both smiling, comfortable in the knowledge that no matter how much things changed, their mother-son bond remained unbreakable.

CHAPTER 41

Although she loved every minute of it, Dylan was still adjusting to working again. She could ignore it all she wanted—as Raffo would deadpan—but you couldn’t expect the same energy from your body and brain at the cusp of sixty that you had in your mid-thirties.

“It happens on a cellular level, babe,” Raffo had said last week, when Dylan had fallen into bed next to her, too exhausted to enjoy Raffo’s touch—a fact that had scandalized Dylan much more than it had Raffo. “Don’t waste your precious energy fighting your own cells. It’s futile.”

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