Page 48 of The Confidentiality Clause
“Um.” I scratch the back of my neck. “I don’t have any right now. It’s hard to take care of them when I’m traveling so much.”
Mom’s face falls. “That makes sense. How is work?”
Here we go.I feel the eyes of everyone at the table on me.
“Yeah, how’s the business faring?” my dad asks with a good-natured smile.
“It’s going great,” I reply and take a piece of garlic bread from the basket in the center of the table. “I’ve got amazing clients, and I’m making good brand deals for them. It’s busy, but that’s all a part of a growing business.”
“That’s wonderful to hear, son,” my dad says with a nod.
“Yes,” my mom agrees, her voice tentative. “But do you think that you’ll be able to slow down soon? I’m worried about how hard you’re working.”
I take a bite of bread to avoid answering. A hand rests on my right knee. I glance in surprise at Ariel. She gives me an encouraging smile that sends warmth through me.
“Maybe,” I say, because telling my mom no seems too harsh. “I’m still in the early stages of my career. It’s normal to have these…” I search for a term. “Growing pains.”
Mom nods slowly. “That makes sense. Well, I hope you’re able to get through this stage quickly.”
“Me too.”
Relief washes over me. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe I can get through tonight unscathed.
I look over and find Sutton glaring at me while stabbing at her lasagna. On second thought…I better keep my guard up.
Chapter twenty-two
Ariel Cambridge
Lightning flashes through the window, making me jump. Sutton shoots me a sympathetic look. I muster up a smile in response. I don’t do great with storms. Last year, I hydroplaned while driving at night through the rain. I wasn’t injured, but my car had to be pulled out of a ditch on the side of the highway. Since then, storms freak me out, and I avoid driving in the rain at all costs.
“It’s getting pretty bad out there,” Sutton comments, glancing over her shoulder at the sheets of rain pelting the window.
After dinner, we all convened in the living room, swapping memories and stories. Shaw and Sutton shared some antics that the rookies on his team have gotten into lately. Brock even shared a couple of his craziest client stories, which had us all doubled over, laughing. He’s loosened up the longer he’s been here. It’s good for him. I think it’s good for everyone–myself included.
Mrs. Jones comes into the living room with a tray of hot cocoa. I smile in spite of the anxiety building in my chest. All of us here in this house, plus hot cocoa, reminds me of being in high school. The nostalgia is as cozy as the blanket I’m under.
“I checked the weather, and I don’t think it would be good for either of you two to leave tonight,” Mrs. Jones says as she hands me a mug, then Brock one. He’s sprawled out on the floor across from me. I spy a grimace flash across his expression.
“It’s just a little rain,” Brock says.
Mrs. Jones gives him a scolding look. “It’s severe thunderstorms with high winds. I saw on Facebook that there’s already limbs down on our road. You’re staying here tonight, young man. There’s clothes in your bedroom.” She looks at me. “And I’m sure Sutton has plenty of clothes for you to borrow. You can stay in the guest room.”
I give her a grateful smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
She passes out the rest of the mugs, but I notice she didn’t make any for herself or Mr. Jones.
“We’re headed to bed. Y’all stay up as long as you like. I’m sure you have plenty to catch up on,” Mrs. Jones says. “I’ll see all of you in the morning for breakfast.”
She kisses the top of all of our heads, then takes Mr. Jones’ hand and heads to their room.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she conjured up the weather herself to get us to stay here,” Brock grumbles.
Sutton throws a pillow at his head.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Quit being such a sourpuss. It’sgoodthat you’re stuck here. You need a break from work.”
