“But you so rarely pick up,” Susan said mildly. “And I’m genuinely interested in the woman who has captured your heart.”
I haven’t, Ilona silently moaned. If anything, she had alienated Leander by making an assumption. She had blindsided him when she was supposed to be earning his trust. I’m sorry, she tried to telegraph, but he had averted his grim expression to glare at the view of the Parthenon.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make the engagement party. Your family must have thought it odd.” Susan slid a wounded glance toward Leander that Ilona interpreted to mean she hadn’t been invited.
Why was he so hostile toward her? In their brief telephone conversation, Susan had struck Ilona as charming and likable, not cruel or objectionable. Did she overspend or speak out of turn after a few drinks? What?
“My family wasn’t there, either,” Ilona volunteered, wading carefully through the thick undercurrents. “My mother passed when I was young and my father died last year. My relationship with the rest is extremely difficult. I don’t expect you’ll meet them at all.” Not if she could help it.
“I’m so sorry.” Susan sounded sincere. Compassionate. “Every bride should have a family member who is as excited as she is. Allow me.” She propped her chin on her hand. “I adore talking about gowns and floral arrangements. Do you have a theme?”
Ilona couldn’t help it. She liked her. Conversation flowed easily between them and the meal would have been very pleasant if Leander had warmed up a degree or two, but he remained withdrawn, barely speaking.
While they were waiting for dessert, Ilona excused herself to the powder room, thinking to give them a moment to clear the air.
“I’ll come with you.” Susan rose at the same time.
“Really, Mother?” Leander gave Susan a frosted look.
“Are you afraid we’ll talk about you?” she chided.
“I know you will. Whatever you have to say can be said here, to my face.” He nodded at her chair.
They held some sort of contest of wills, one that made Ilona feel she had caused this discord between them. She nearly wilted back into her chair in miserable defeat.
“It’s all things you’ve heard before, darling. What difference would it make where I say it?” Susan sounded almost anguished, but she quickly covered that impression with a warm smile for Ilona. She tucked her arm through Ilona’s and steered her toward the ladies’ lounge.
Ilona’s heart was heavy when they returned to the penthouse. She was in the oddest position of wanting to know Leander’s side of things while wanting to defend his mother. She wanted to ask questions, but given his shuttered expression, she also wanted to respect his privacy. She settled on a sincere apology.
“I should have mentioned that she would be joining us. She called to welcome me to the family and I invited her on impulse. She said she wanted to surprise you so I...” Put him into a situation he didn’t want. “I’m very sorry. It didn’t occur to me you wouldn’t want to see her.”
The whole point in “dating” had been to get to know each other, but as she looked back on their half-dozen dinners, she realized they hadn’t revealed anything deeply personal. She knew his taste in music was eclectic and he preferred snow skiing over water skiing, but she didn’t know what his childhood had been like.
So much for honest and open communication.
“She manipulated you. Be on guard for it in future,” he warned crisply. “Take everything she told you with a bucket of salt. And don’t pretend she didn’t try to pull you to her side when she got you alone.”
She had, but Ilona didn’t feel manipulated. She felt sorry for her. Sad for both of them.
“Do you want one?” Leander was pouring himself a drink.
“Thank you.” She didn’t really want it. Most nights she changed and they spent the rest of the evening working on their laptops or watching television. Tonight, she curled up on the sofa and accepted the glass he handed her, gently asking, “Will you tell me your side of it?”
“What’s to tell? She didn’t want to be a mother, didn’t want a relationship with me when I was a child and needed her, but now she expects my attention and affection. I send her money to ensure she lives comfortably. I don’t know why that isn’t enough.”
Because Susan was lonely and regretful and had been in a no-win situation from the start, if even a smidge of what she had told Ilona was true.
“You were eight when she moved back to London?” she pried carefully.
“To star in a musical. Not even a particularly good one. Her career has always been more down than up, but she insisted on pursuing it.” His tone was dismissive.
“That’s entertainment, I think. Eternally hoping for the big break.” And wasn’t everyone entitled to dream? “Perhaps she was homesick. I used to suffer it quite badly.”
“When you were at boarding school?” He looked over his shoulder from the window.
“When I came to live with my father.”
He made a noncommittal noise and returned to glowering at the city lights.