Page 49 of Serving the Mogul

“I know.” Smiling a little, I admitted, “The word of mouth will be great, but that’s not my primary reason to take the job.”

“We didn’t think it would be,” my mom said. She patted my hand and accepted a glass of sangria from Dina. Norman asked if he could have some, and after the chorus of “no’s” went up, Mom looked to me. In her late fifties, Lois Siegler was still an attractive woman, and when she smiled, she became beautiful. “You’ve always had a strong moral core, Tina.”

My cheeks heated, and I looked away.

Mom just laughed and patted my knee.

“What’s a moral core?” Norman asked, looking from me to his grandmother.

Before I could answer, his sister Carol spoke up. “It’s knowing what’s right and wrong and doing the right thing. Right, Aunt T?”

“Yes.” I smiled at her and wanted to say something else, but my phone buzzed. Grimacing, I grabbed it and met my dad’s gaze. “Sorry, Dad.”

He waved it off, and I nearly dropped my phone. I was so surprised. Phones at the table were a big no for him.

Muting it, I shoved it in my pocket.

A few seconds later, as I sipped my sangria, the phone in my pocket vibrated to signal a notification.

Then there was another.

And another.

Another.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath just as Dina’s phone chimed with a message.

Dad scowled now, shooting her a look. She blushed, looking as guilty as I felt, and shoved her phone into her pocket.

Newt’s phone started going off.

He sighed and got up. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, smiling at all of us.

Dina caught her husband’s hand and squeezed briefly before letting go so he could step into the kitchen to take the call.

While the conversation ebbed and flowed around us, and my phone vibrated almost constantly with the continual notifications, I looked up to see Dina slip from her seat and join her husband.

They stood in the doorway.

He passed her his phone.

Worry twisted inside, and I practically got up to hug her as her face dropped and the blood drained away, leaving her pale.

But then her gaze swung toward me.

The bottom of my world gave way and collapsed.

Twenty

Maximus

Jumping off the treadmill,I accepted the call from my father, more out of duty than anything else. I no longer hated Connor Maximus, but I wasn’t great at building—or keeping—relationships.

“Hey, son,” Connor said, his voice still the hale, hearty boom it had been when he’d greeted me the first time.

“Connor. How are you doing?”

The hesitation was barely noticeable, and he pushed on without commenting about how I used his given name.

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