Page 38 of The Rich One

“Right, how about this…” Tyler wraps my fingers around his bicep and nods his head to the doorman as we both walk into the French restaurant. Reservations here are a bitch to get but I’m not surprised Tyler could get them on such short notice. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a standing reservation on the weekends. “My mother loves to knit, it’s her way of keeping her mind occupied. I used to take her to chemo, and during those long hours she taught me how to knit.”

What the fuck?

“You knit?” I quirk a brow because, come on. He’s a mogul not a homemaker.

“Sure do.” His amused grin is aimed straight at me as the waiter takes us to our table and I feel his megawatts straight to my clit.

“Prove it.” He laughs at my words, his head thrown back and his face completely relaxed. I’m a little in awe that I made this man—controlled as he is all of the time—drop his walls for a minute.

“I think I have pictures on my phone, I’ll show you later.” It’s my turn to grin because, holy shit, the mental image of this gorgeous billionaire knitting at his mother’s side is causing my ovaries to explode.

“Wow, a knitting gazillionaire. Don’t see those every day.” The mental image is sexy as hell.

“Sorry, I’m only a billionaire, so…” It takes everything in me not to laugh out right. After all, this place is too swanky to lose control.

It’s only a few minutes until his parents join our table. We’re in Oscar performance mode when they arrive, and I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t what I saw.

Suzannah Astor Walker is the epitome of class and timeless beauty. Her black hair is streaked with gray and swept up into a French twist. The dress she’s wearing is stunning, the way the white satin material wraps around her body accentuates her beautiful curves. She looks ten years younger than expected and, in that moment, I hope that I age into even half her stature and class. At her arm is David, and he’s sharp but stern faced, like he’s got the troubles of the world on his shoulders. Where Suzannah looks young, David’s wrinkles map every minute of his sixty-two years. His dark three-piece suit isn’t the usual kind of family dinner outfit, but I get the impression he likes to feel important.

“My darling, how are you? I’m so sorry we’re late but…” Suzannah kisses Tyler on the cheek. Not an air kiss, but a real peck that leaves a smudge of lipstick, which she wipes away with her thumb. “We saw Issam and his wife Houda—you know our concierge in our building—and they are expecting. Isn’t it exciting? A baby!” Oh, God. She has grandmotherly baby fever.

“Yes, of course I remember them.” Tyler shakes his father’s hand as they murmur words I can’t hear because my entire focus is on Suzannah, who has fixed her sights on me. Aaron wasn’t kidding. She’s sharp and her eagle eyes assess me in two point three seconds. I’m dressed for the part, obviously, and my hair and make-up are on point. Not too much, don’t want the mother-in-law to think I’m a whore—oh the irony—but not so little that she could think I’m after his money. This world is too much work, too much calculation and ill-will, for me.

“You must be Rose.” She reaches out and clasps my hand in both of hers, looking to Tyler for introductions.

“Mother, this is Rose. Rose, my parents Suzannah and David.” I give my most elegant smile and nod my head slightly in deference. Like meeting the fucking queen. It’s exhausting.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Rose.”

“It’s an honor, Mrs. and Mr. Walker.” Suzannah smiles at Tyler and I know exactly why. Tyler may have omitted giving me information on his parents, but I do my research. Always.

Suzannah Astor inherited the mega department store from her dad back in the day. It was dwindling, too high priced for the ninety’s recession, and losing money fast. As soon as she sat in the big chair, she turned the whole company around—starting with the creation of an umbrella company that she named Thunder God Holdings. Instead of downsizing, she invested in up-and-coming fashion designers and basically made them who they are today.

Truth be told, I have a little bit of a lady boner for this woman. So yes, when addressing her and her husband, I chose to start with her, not him as is customary.

“I like her already.” I square my shoulders with pride, then have to remind myself that this is all an act. I can’t get too attached to this woman because I’m only paid to deceive her.

“Let’s sit, shall we?”

We order a bottle of Champagne with our appetizers, talking and laughing, quietly amongst ourselves, of course, and getting to know each other. By this time, I know my fictional card by heart and haven’t been taken by surprise at any point in the conversation. Tyler has been the perfect boyfriend. He’s attentive and sweet, touching me often and even daring to turn me on under the table. I shut that shit down real fast. I can’t concentrate on this façade with his hands all over me.

By our main course, I’m contemplating breaking up with Tyler and marrying his mother. Oh, the scandal. She’s witty and sharp, and as large as her presence can be, she seems genuinely interested in what others have to say.

When we order our desserts, I turn to Tyler and excuse myself to the restroom and he bends down to kiss me lightly on the temple.

It’s only when I reach the fancy bathroom that I realize Suzannah has followed me. There are two stalls, so I let her choose hers then go to mine. It’s awkward, peeing in the same room as your future mother-in-law. No,fakefuture mother-in-law. I cannot forget that.

After washing and drying our hands, Suzannah turns to me and her playful, sweet face morphs into something hard and uncharacteristic.

“Rose, I need to be honest.” Well, fuck. This is a plot twist. Dammit, did I fuck up one of my details?

“Um, is everything okay?” I’m legitimately concerned. Tyler’s parents cannot know he’s hiring a call girl to pretend to be his girlfriend.

“I’m a cancer survivor. You know this, right?” My mind is whirring, trying to go through our earlier conversations and wondering if I offended her somehow.

“Yes, of course. Breast cancer. You beat it about a year later and Tyler took you to chemo.” She smiles at that, her love and pride when it comes to her son is palpable.

“Yes, so you also know what can happen because of chemo?” She stands there like a stern school teacher interrogating her underachieving student.

---