Page 26 of Hotshot Mogul

Isolde explained that humans had cameras on all their devices, even the ones they wore on their bodies. “Everything is filmed,” Isolde had said. “So, take care with your words, actions, and appearance.”

“I made you sad,” Callie said. “Here.” She handed me a tablet. “I pulled up some videos designed to get children ready to read and write English. Watch as many as you can, then I’ll drive you out to the glade.”

She left and I checked my device for an answer to my text to Bruce. How is your mother? It said undelivered. Did he block messages from me? The salesclerk called him a player. Was he with someone else?

I hated these feelings of hurt and anger. I was known for my calmness before my parents died and before I married Étienne. Bruce stirred such passion inside me. I churned with worry and wanting. I did not want to be that way. I had things to learn before tomorrow night. I had to focus on that.

CHAPTER TEN

Bruce

Big, fat drops of Florida rain pelted the window beside Mom’s bed. Dad had left us after Mom insisted that he drive home to shower and eat something. I forgot to ask him for a phone charger and there were no extras at the nurse’s station. My phone was now dead.

I couldn’t put it off any longer. It was my fault, all of this. I was drowning in rivers of guilt, believing that I’d caused my mom’s heart attack.

I had to know. “Your heart attack, Mom. It must have happened as soon as I ended our call. Or did you feel weird before that?” I added, hoping for the latter.

Mom reached for my hand and sighed. “Hung up on me, you mean. You’re thinking it was your fault.” I nodded and squeezed her hand, expecting a denial. “Yeah, partly, I think.”

My jaw dropped.

“The stress, you know. You cut yourself off from us after what happened with Diana.” Thunder cracked when she said that. “I—we—love you so much, honey, but you’re acting like a brat.”

Shame joined the party.

“Your father had Diana investigated. Something about her seemed off to both of us. She was involved with someone else when you were planning to be married. The investigator’s guess, and our guess, was that she planned to take your trust-fund money for the unapproved treatment, then kick you to the curb. We tried to slow you down so you could find out about the other man for yourself. But she died before that happened.”

WTF?

“I’m so sorry that she died,” my mother continued. “And sorry that you channeled your grief and anger at your dad. We didn’t have the heart to tell you about the other guy over the freaking phone! And you wouldn’t come home. Your father didn’t…doesn’t…deserve your anger. It damn near broke our hearts, mine literally.”

She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, then sipped her drink from her Styrofoam cup, keeping hold of my hand.

She needed to be calm, surrounded by love, so she could heal. I’d never dreamed Diana was capable of such deceit. I would have to unpack that later. It was Mom-time. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Forgiven. Always. Now, tell me about your new girlfriend.”

Anneliese. Where to start?

Just then, Dad walked in, frowning at his phone. He glanced at Mom, stopped short, and fixed me with a stare that could peel paint.

He sat next to Mom, kissed her hello, and kept hold of her chin. “You’ve been crying.”

“It was good, darling, to get things out in the open. I told him about Diana and the other guy. And I just asked him about his girlfriend.”

He draped his arm around Mom’s shoulders and waited.

What to say? I felt like I did in high school, trying to convince them that a trip to Bali with ten of my closest friends was a good idea. “Anneliese is wonderful. She isn’t from the U.S. She’s here getting people to sign petitions so I don’t cut down some old, diseased trees to do the development. It’s near Lake Michigan. She doesn’t know I’m Clynes Development. She thinks I cut grass for them—um, me. I was supposed to present—I need a rezoning for part of it—to the city commission tomorrow.”

“Where’s she from?” Dad asked. An airplane pilot, before he retired, he had been everywhere.

“Iluybjia. She said it’s a small island.”

“Never heard of it,” Dad said.

“Me either,” Mom added.

“So, is she here on a student or work visa?” Dad asked. “Or is she a refugee?”

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