Page 40 of Stolen Omega

She’s quiet for a second, and I check to make sure I’m still getting a signal before she starts talking again.

“I’ve been thinking,” she starts, which is never a good sign, “it might be time to take a break.”

“A break?” I ask, not sure what she means.

“You’ve been working non-stop for five years now, sweetheart. Surely, you could use a break.”

“You mean like a vacation?”

“I mean taking a break from your career to refocus your life.”

Refocus? I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I know I don’t like where this conversation is headed. I move away from the bedroom door, putting the now empty purse down on the dresser as I move past it.

“I’m happy with things the way they are,” I insist.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“I’m sure,” I confirm, making sure I sound certain.

I’m relieved that she isn’t trying to get me to do something different with my life, but I really wish she’d quit testing me like that. It makes every conversation we have feel like a trap.

“Well, good. That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am.” I press my lips together, crossing my fingers that we’re done with this conversation.

She sighs. “Okay. Well. Your father and I will see you in a couple of days’ time. Hopefully the new contract will be ready to sign by then, but we’ll see.”

“Uh, you’re coming to one of the Cressidan City shows?”

I can’t believe she’s telling me about a visit instead of springing it on me.

“Yes! We’re free for the second night, so we’ve made plans to take you for dinner.”

Damn. Dinners with my parents are never a good thing.

“I’m usually wiped after a show,” I remind her. “I literally eat and fall into bed.”

“Yes, I know, but you can make an effort this once. It’s not as if we see each other every day.”

Okay, now she’s going back into commanding parent mode.

“Well, security will need to know your plans.”

“I’ve already contacted them.”

I should have known that she would.

And I really shouldn’t be riling her up.

“Dinner will be good,” I lie, hoping to hell the sole purpose isn’t going to be to get me to sign a new contract. She’s right that I hardly ever see them, but my parents are not social visit people. They don’t want to see me to spend time with me. There’s always something else.

“Good,” she says.

She hangs up without saying goodbye.

There’s a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I change into my casual clothes to be ready for transport to the venue in a couple of hours. I don’t know what my mom is up to, but whatever it is, I know I won’t like it.

I order a late lunch, like always, but when it comes, I feel too anxious to do much more than force down a few bites of the side salad. Hallway guy comes into the suite to eat with us, and he ends up with my leftovers, and Saturday guy’s leftovers. He’s a big guy who’s on his feet all day.

---