Grip Trilogy Box Set

“That isn’t necessary.” I dip my head, trying to catch his eyes. I already know what my mother wants to talk to me about. So does he. Why does he even think I want to listen?

“It actually is, Bristol.” She looks to Grip, her eyes unthawed. “Marlon, show us where.”

When we reach the small room, Mother walks in ahead of us. I linger in the hall and step close to Grip. Amir takes a few steps away, out of earshot, but within helping distance.

“Why are you accommodating her?” I lean into his chest, running my hands up to his neck. I lift up on my toes to whisper in his ear. “You could be fucking me by now.”

“She’s your mother.” He pulls back a little, setting me away from him and gently nudging me toward the room. “Give her a few minutes.”

It means something to him it’s never been for me, the connection to a parent. I know the distance between him and his mother bothers him. As close as they’ve always been, discord isn’t natural, when for me that’s par for the course.

“Okay,” I agree. “But can we work out some signal so if I need you, you’ll come rescue me from this lecture?”

“Just hurry up.” He turns me toward the door and swats my bottom. “So I can keep my promise.”

I’m still thinking about how good that promise kept will be when I face my mother. I don’t bother closing the door, even though I know Grip and Amir are in the hall. Maybe that will deter her from saying anything too insulting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Bristol?” Her voice thwacks me like a wet towel as soon as I enter the room.

“I’m giving you your private moment, Mother. What’s this about?”

“You know exactly what this is about.” She gestures toward the hall. “Is this what you call having things under control? Being broadcast kissing that . . . man all over the world?”

“That . . . man is my boyfriend, Mother,” I snap. “And if you say one disrespectful word about him, I warn you, this conversation is over.”

“Bristol, Parker—”

“I told you before I don’t want Parker. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

Her expression cracks, irritation rearing from behind the protection of the smooth mask.

“Bristol, let me speak frankly. You aren’t your brother. Rhyson is a musician with a rare gift. That is not your strength.”

The words I’ve always known she felt even when she didn’t express them land heavily on my chest, suspiciously close to my heart.

“I know you’re playing around with this management business,” she continues. “But you need to think about your future.”

“Mother, you’re a businesswoman with your own money. Why would you want anything different for me? Expect anything less from me?”

“Park Corp is worth billions, Bristol. You don’t ignore that.

Charles Parker is a once and a lifetime opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” I shake my head disbelievingly. “Is that how you went into your marriage, Mother? How’s that worked out for you?”

As much as I believe my words, I regret them. I don’t want to see my mother in pain, and the hurt that pinches her face before she can hide it hurts me, too.

“Don’t turn this on me, Bristol. We’re talking about you. I told you not to toy with Parker.”

“And I didn’t. I was clear with him that we weren’t going to happen.”

“Well Betsy asked him about this . . . scandal you’re in with . . .” She gestures out toward the hall. “Him. Parker pretended to be fine with it, but I don’t believe it. I can see Marlon holds a certain appeal. You want a good lay, a man with a lot in his pants, go for it. Understand the consequences, though. Parker won’t give up.”

“Bristol.” Grip comes to the door, that muscle bunched in his jaw that usually means he’s pissed. “Baby, let’s go.”

“We aren’t done,” my mother says testily.

“Yes, you are.” Grip’s fists are in his pockets, tucked away with his patience. “I couldn’t imagine turning my mother down if she asked for time with me. I’d have to at least hear her out. So, I encouraged Bristol to do this, but I’m not going to stand out there while you insult her.”