The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)

Helene stopped two steps into his office and glanced back over her shoulder. “Stop acting like I’m holding a gun to your head and get in here.”

Sawyer’s stomach roiled. His mom he was glad to see, even if she brought nothing but headaches and Irish-Catholic guilt. But a wife candidate? Yeah, he was definitely not in the mood for that. He had his mouth open ready to tell her to leave her latest eligible bachelorette cooling her heels outside when his brother walked in.

“So this is what this floor looks like,” Hudson said, looking around the office as if it were an exotic locale. “I usually don’t make it past the cafeteria level. Mrs. Esposito always saves a couple of cookies for me.”

“We are not here to discuss cookies,” Helene said, continuing her march forward.

“Just one in particular,” Hudson said in a 40s gangster voice. “How is your bride-to-be?”

Maybe a wife candidate would be preferable to whatever these two had in mind. Sawyer bit back his groan but refused to sink back against his seat. One did not cower in front of Helene Carlyle unless one wanted to be eaten. So he steeled his spine, flexed his toes, and got ready to do the all too familiar tightrope walk of being careful of his mother’s feelings while also shoving her out of his business with both hands.

He stood and walked toward the pair of leather couches arranged to admire the view of Harbor City’s skyline, figuring his mother would probably be more comfortable trying to run his life from the comfort of the designer couches than the stiff-backed visitor’s chair in front of his desk. “Clover is just fine.”

Helene followed, sitting down with the grace and determination of a woman who knew what she wanted and knew exactly how to go about getting it. “This whole thing is ridiculous, Sawyer. Even Hudson agrees.”

“I don’t know,” Hudson said, sitting down opposite Sawyer. “I think it’s nice that the crazy kids are taking their time getting to the altar after such a dive straight into love.”

Helene narrowed her eyes and cut a glare at Hudson. “You’re not nearly as amusing as you think you are, young man.”

“Of course I am, you’re just too annoyed at my big brother to see it.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled the sigh of a martyr. “Where did your father and I go wrong?”

“My therapist has a list,” Hudson said with a grin for their mom and a wink for Sawyer.

He didn’t know what his little brother was up to, but as long as it took the heat off of him and Clover, then Sawyer was more than willing to sit back and watch the show.

“Enough, Hudson.” She held up her hand, the three-carat diamond wedding ring she still wore glinting in the sunlight streaming in through the window. “Stop trying to distract me from what we came here to do.”

Damn. The woman never missed a trick.

“And what’s that?” Hudson asked.

As if they both didn’t know already.

“Stopping your brother before this farce goes any further,” Helene said. “You can’t actually marry that…that…person.”

Red ate the edges of his vision away and heat shot up from his toes as his entire body tensed. It was a damn good thing he loved his mother because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what would have come out of his mouth next. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t have been the kind of thing a son should say to his mom. It took a second for him to remember how to unclamp his jaw, he was holding it closed with such force.

“She. Has. A. Name.”

“Fine,” his mo

m said, not giving an inch in her steel-hard posture. “Clover. You’ve been holed up with her for long enough. You haven’t come out to any of the charity functions or the family cocktail hour.”

He let out a cold laugh. “I can’t imagine why after what happened last time.”

“You mean when Mom threw a couple of Mrs. Carlyle wannabes at you in front of your fiancée?” Hudson asked, his tone jovial despite the worry crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Oh shut up, Hudson,” she said, her voice unraveling around the edges. Then she took a deep breath before patting Hudson’s knee in a non-verbal apology. “I’m just looking out for you, Sawyer. I only want what’s best for you. After what happened with Tyler Jacobson’s fiancée, Irena, I just want you to be with the kind of woman who can make you happy.”

Nothing like finding your best friend’s bride in her wedding lingerie in your hotel room hours before the ceremony. It seemed her true love for Tyler didn’t stand a chance against her lust for Sawyer’s bank account. She’d ruined her makeup crying crocodile tears and napalmed his twenty-year friendship with Tyler. A reminder of that clusterfuck was the last thing Sawyer wanted from his mom right now—well, almost the last thing.

“And you think one of your wife candidates is the way to go?” he asked, letting every ounce of distaste he had for her schemes drip into his tone.

“I was hoping it would at least get you thinking in the right direction.” Helene threw her hands up in the air. “You can’t ignore the rest of the world while you focus on Carlyle Enterprises and let all the important things—the little things—escape your view.”

“I’m not. I’m getting married, remember?” Not the truth, but what did that matter when it came to winning an argument?