Ask Him (Mess with Me 1.50)

Mamma waves her hand dismissively. “His father is French,” she states, as if this explains everything. “Never mind that. Since you forgot about the event, I’ll assume you didn’t arrange an escort?”

Here we go. I glance at the Rolex on my wrist. It didn’t even take two minutes before she started up with her real reason for being here tonight.

“I did not in fact arrange an escort for a charity event that I never agreed to attend in the first place.”

She ignores me. “Because if you didn’t make any arrangements, there are several young women that will be attending tonight that I’m sure you’ll find suitable.”

If I’m g

oing to deal with my mother in matchmaker mode, I’m sure as hell not doing it sober. I stop next to the small minibar in the suite and grab the first bottle my hand lands on, not even caring what it is.

“That’s not necessary, Mamma. I would much prefer to escort my beautiful mother.”

“Your charm is wasted on me. You’ll be thirty soon. That’s too old to be unmarried.”

“I’m twenty-eight. Let’s not throw me in the grave prematurely.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

I raise my glass in her direction. “Well, it’s your fault. You and Papa were quite a lot to live up to.”

Her eyes soften. “Your father was an extraordinary man. And so are you.”

Now I really feel like shit.

“I apologize, Mamma. I didn’t mean to make you sad. Things have been stressful at the office. I don’t mean to take it out on you. I’ll go change and then we can leave.”

When I return, she stands and takes my arm so I can escort her out. Her smile is bright as we walk through the lobby and she waves discreetly at several people she knows. As we step outside the hotel, our car arrives immediately. The valet opens the door for her while I round to the driver’s side. Mamma prefers to use a car service but when I’m with her, I like to drive.

When we’re on the road, Mamma squeezes my arm.

“You boys think I don’t understand. But I see so much more than you know. You’re not yourself, my son. And it breaks my heart to see you suffer.”

Ashamed that I’ve rebuffed her attempts to talk lately, I squeeze her hand. “I’ve been out of sorts but nothing I can’t handle. I’m trying to find more time to relax.”

She perks up. “You deserve it. Maybe then I’ll finally get a grandchild out of one of you. How do you expect to meet anyone if you stay holed up in that office all day? Go out and meet people. Whatever it is young people do these days.”

My mind flashes to the girl I met a few days ago. Housekeeping hadn’t been able to get the stain out of the shirt but I hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. It’s hanging in my closet next to a ten thousand dollar custom Balmain suit.

“Perhaps I’ll do that. Although I’m not sure exactly what it is young people do for fun these days, either.”

When we pull up to the hotel where the event is taking place, Mamma looks over just as the valet opens her door. “Well, I’m not sure what’s in fashion these days but I’m pretty sure figuring it out is half the fun.”

Mamma’s words stay with me all through the night and after I take her back to her hotel. She’s uncharacteristically quiet once we reach her suite, and leaves me with an absent kiss to my cheek before retiring to her room.

I stand there for a moment, unsure where to go. Now that I’ve done my duty for the night, I find myself at a loss. As I ride the elevator back down to the lobby, I ponder an entire night to do whatever I want. No thoughts of work and no one to answer to. The freedom is almost daunting.

The doorman tips his hat as I pass and I respond to a friendly hello from one of the valets outside. I give the one closest to me my ticket so he can bring my car around and then my attention lands on the other. He’s a young man but old enough for what I need. Probably still in college considering that he doesn’t look as though he’s fully grown into his large hands and feet. His eyebrows lift as I walk closer.

“Good evening. I want to go out. On the town. To have fun.” I force myself to stop talking, embarrassed by my own rambling.

The young man takes it in stride. Especially when I slide over a few twenties. He pockets the money and then points down the block. “There’s a nightclub called Hysteria three streets over that’s pretty popular. It’s the place to be. Difficult to get into but worth it from what I hear.”

I shake my head, already sure another exclusive club filled with rich people trying to impress each other is not what I want.

“No clubs. I don’t want a popular place with a VIP lounge. I want to experience some real American fun. Something normal. Where would you go if you had the night off?”

He looks skeptical but nods his head in the other direction. “It’s not that close, it’s in Adams Morgan. A bar called Hammered. They have the best happy hour and every Friday it’s half-priced wings. All night.”