Page 52 of Devious Temptation
Fuck no.
Am I really this desperate? This is what I wanted all along, isn’t it? To dash any hope of a future for us?
Then you probably shouldn’t have finger-banged her on the hood of your car Friday night like a fucking asshole.
I breathe deeply through my nose before letting it out in a long exhale.
Like I said, the Flakiest Person of the Year award goes to me.
Lucy
“It was nice of Mr. Benson to let you leave early. I could have waited, sweetheart.” My mother is all sunshine and smiles as she greets me.
For as long as I can remember, she’s always been this ball of bright, bouncy energy. I’ve only seen her get truly upset a few times throughout my life, and as I remove my jacket to take a seat across from her at a cute little restaurant called Lotus, I wonder if this will be one of those times.
“Mr. Benson retired, remember? Do you remember Rhys’ dad, Lawson? He’s my boss now—or at least he will be for the next year while his company integrates us into its business model.”
There. The best way to deliver the news is by ripping off the Band-Aid.
Surprisingly, Mom just continues browsing the wine selection as if we haven’t been coming here for years. After all, my Aunt Charleigh’s long-time boyfriend, Michael, owns the place. “I thought he moved to New York?”
Since I already know what I’m getting—because it’s the same thing I get every time we’re here—I pick at the edge of my napkin. “He did. Like I said, he’s only going to be back for a year.”
Mom waits until after we order a bottle of wine and our entrées to ask, “How do you feel about working for him?”
I blink, desperately trying to calm the pink hue I can feel warming my cheeks. “It’s fine. He’s a good boss. Everyone really likes him.”
Some of us a little too much.
My mind drifts to how Lawson reacted when I told him I had a date. His abrupt and sudden changes in mood are getting tiresome, and a tiny evil seed unfurls in mybrain—a twisted little thought of how I should compile a list of therapists and leave them on his desk in the morning.
A smile pulls at my lips that doesn’t go unnoticed by Mom. “Are he and Charlotte still together?”
With a groan, I roll my eyes as our server returns and pours our syrah. “Married, yes. Together, no.”
“How unfortunate for him to still be shackled to that absolutely horrid woman.” Mom swirls and sniffs her wine before sipping it. She tucks her long, coppery locks behind an ear and fixes me with a knowing gaze. “Is he still good-looking?”
“Mom!” I laugh, reaching across the table to swat at her with my napkin. “I thought you had an issue with us being… friendly, for lack of a better word.”
“I mean, yeah, you were a child, Lucy. I just wanted to make sure things were all appropriate over at the Morgan household. You’re an adult now, though. Not that I’m saying it’s appropriatenow, but we can appreciate how handsome he’s always been without it sounding like I condone pedophilia.” She shudders and takes a long sip from her glass.
“Eww, Mom, gross.”
She peers over the rim of her glass at me with an unreadable expression. “Didn’t you say you’d be out of town this weekend for a conference? Does that mean you two will be going away together for the weekend?”
“Yes, but it’s not like that. And honestly, it’s weird to be talking about this with you. You’re my mom. He’s my boss. End of discussion.” I wonder why she’s acting like she wouldn’t be entirely against the idea. She certainly hadn’tliked the thought of Lawson and me being in the same room while I was in nothing but Rhys’ jersey.
Mom sets her glass down as our pre-dinner salads arrive and raises her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, then. Have you talked to your brother lately?” she asks, abruptly changing the subject.
I nod, and she launches into a tirade about something new Liam has done to upset her and my dad. Having heard it all before, I let my thoughts drift to how the weekend will go. It’s a short plane ride to the northern shore of Lake Michigan, and the weekend is packed with forums and meet and greets, networking opportunities, and dinner on Sunday that everyone is expected to attend.
I don’t think it’s normal for people to bring their assistants, but I’ve already packed a few new outfits—classic cuts and mostly bland colors—so I won’t stand out and embarrass Lawson amongst his peers. But an entire weekend away together?
Lord, give me strength.
Nineteen
As I navigatethrough the crowd of business suits and office-appropriate dresses cluttering the hotel lobby, I see Lawson right where I left him, arguing with someone on the phone.
