At this point, his obsession with the art and its creator was taking a negative toll on his psyche. Thoughts of Kellus Hardin had been hoarding too much space in his already overloaded brain, and he’d pretty much decided he needed to either go to a club, find a willing participant and fuck the artist out of his system or convince Kellus to see things his way. The latter, of course, seemed like a better answer and why he’d gone to all the trouble of having the new tux made in hopes of making a lasting impression.
Please let it happen, he desperately pleaded because he couldn’t keep going like this.
“All done, Mr. Layne?”
Arik lifted a hand, and half-ass looked over the manicure she’d just given him, then nodded as he pushed to his feet.
“It looks good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He left her sitting there, packing her things as he went for his dressing room. He’d used his suite at the hotel for most of the week, instead of driving the thirty or so minutes to his penthouse in downtown Dallas. Complications came with living between the two spaces, but his assistant, Iris, was a dream. She kept him on track with almost everything he needed.
After shutting the door, Arik began to dress. A few minutes later, he heard the outer suite door shut, and he assumed the nail tech had let herself out. By the time he had his dress shirt on, fastening the buttons, a knock sounded on the door. He looked up at the closed door in confusion at the same moment he heard the voice.
“A, honey, are you in there?”
Family. Great. Or more specifically, his mother, Diana. He’d forgotten his parents and Gage’s parents were scheduled to arrive today. They had planned a weekend stay at the resort to help kill two birds with one stone—they could attend Gage’s gallery opening and support Arik in his newest resort grand opening, all in one fell swoop.
“I’m dressing. I’ll be out in a minute, Mom.”
His mother had never been one to honor spatial boundaries. The door opened just as he got the shirt buttoned almost to the top. His mother peeked around the side, a well-manicured hand covering her eyes, the other arm stuck straight out in front of her, helping to guide her inside the room. It didn’t help. She still ran into an ottoman. With a loud “ouch,” she lowered her hand as she looked down at the offending piece of furniture.
“I don’t want to interrupt or see anything I shouldn’t. It would scar me,” she said, lifting her hand back over her eyes as she continued through the room.
“So perhaps you should have stayed behind the shut door,” he said dryly.
“Oh, silly! You know that closed doors have never kept me out. It’s how I found out you were gay.”
Arik stood in his socks and underwear, his dress shirt covering everything it should, but when she started to lower her hand, he couldn’t help but tease her.
“Mom! I’m not dressed.”
That startled her. She quickly lifted her hand back in place until he busted out laughing. That caused her to immediately straighten and drop both arms. She had been awkwardly heading in the wrong direction, and she turned her head toward him, a pretend scowl marring her elegant face.
“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m your mother.”
“And I love you, but seriously, I’m a grown man trying to dress,” he replied, and started to cross his arms, but stopped mid-motion, lowering them again to avoid unwanted wrinkles.
His mother gave him a somewhat sincere, warm smile and headed straight for him, pulling him in for a tight hug. “You’re my first child, and besides, you haven’t got anything I haven’t seen a thousand times before.”
“Probably not the best thing to say in public. Think of that scandal.” He chuckled, holding her tight. They were an affectionate bunch and he loved his mother. When she began to release her hold, he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
The smile turned fully sincere as she patted him on the shoulder. “I miss you. You’re my child who refuses to settle down and let me interfere endlessly in your life. So I have to take the opportunity to be involved when it’s given.”
He couldn’t help the chuckle as he went for his slacks hanging on the rack beside his tuxedo jacket. That was one major difference between his mother and his aunt—his mom seemed to know she stepped over the lines of appropriateness.
“The resort’s beautiful, son. I’m so impressed.” She took a seat in one of the spare chairs in the room. “Wilder did an outstanding job with all the interactive things. Your dad and uncle are playing with the floor thingy as we speak.” She mimicked some sort of a move before smiling up at him.