Billionaire's Single Mom

Chapter One

EMILY

Dread. That’s what surged through me when I opened the door of my car to help Juniper out. My little five-year-old daughter was fine, but it wouldn’t be soon before I had to face Mama and whatever she had planned for me. Anyone in Nashville could tell you that going into Sally Jolie’s house without knowing her plans for you was asking for trouble.

“Do you think Grandma has any cake?” Juniper asked. “She always gives me cake on Sundays.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, my little sweet pea. If she has some cake, then she’ll probably offer you some, but a proper lady doesn’t go asking for something just because she wants it. A proper hostess will know what the guests want, and Grandma is a proper hostess.”

“Okay, Mama,” Juniper said, hopping out of her car seat and then onto the ground. She bounced around for a few seconds, her excitement obvious.

I took my daughter’s hand in mine and took my first step on the red brick path leading between the carefully cultivated lawns Mama’s gardener maintained. Dogwoods covered in white and yellow flowers and the green sugar maples surrounded the property. Mama hated fences but loved trees. In springtime, like now, they made for a much prettier sight too.

Walking down the path, my mind raced about why we were even there on a Tuesday.

Now, our tradition was to have dinner with Mama and Daddy every Sunday. Even after Daddy passed away, God rest his soul, I made sure to continue coming over to Mama’s. She needed the company, and we needed her.

Family should be everything. Another dark cloud entered my thoughts. Yes, family should be everything. Children should love their parents, and husbands should love their wives. At least that’s the way it’s supposed to work, and it did in my family growing up. Too bad my ex-husband Lionel couldn’t love me enough not to chase other women.

I shook my head, trying to clear out the sad thoughts. I’d been divorced for two years, and I still couldn’t stop the bad feelings from coming up. Maybe that’s why I was questioning Mama now.

She had been by my side during the divorce, and I was grateful. So why was so I so afraid?

Tuesday was the problem. My stomach churned.

We just never had family dinners on Tuesday. Sally Jolie, my mama, was many things, most of them good, God-fearing, loving, and generous. She also was what most people would call a creature of habit, if not the very Queen of Habit Country.

In my thirty-two years of life on God’s green Earth, one of the ironclad rules I’d learned about Mama was that if she broke her routine, it usually meant she was scheming something or other. Not mean schemes, bless her heart, but still schemes.

Mama usually had guests over from the Nashville Ladies’ Historical Preservation Society or the Davidson Charitable Foundation on Tuesdays to discuss fundraisers, projects, sternly written letters to the city council, and that sort of thing. She’d been a fixture in Nashville society for decades, a force of nature really, and other than a brief period of mourning for my daddy, she’d kept to that. Keeping a tight schedule was a big part of it.

I glanced around. I didn’t see any other cars parked nearby, and I doubted all those fine society ladies would walk halfway across town for a meeting, even to such a lovely and huge old Nashville mansion.

Juniper started humming some song I didn’t know with a smile on her face. She’d always been a good little girl and strong, maybe stronger than me in some ways. Every time I felt bad about my divorce, I realized it was better that I ended my marriage sooner than later, if only so my little girl didn’t have to deal with years of her daddy and me being together when he didn’t love me. It wasn’t her fault her daddy liked to chase other women.

We arrived at the door, and I knocked lightly. It didn’t take long before Mama opened the door and pulled me in for a tight hug. The warmth of knowing I was loved passed through me, doing a little bit to fight my unease.

That’s Mama for you. Every time you saw her, she acted like she’d just got back from a three-month trip and was missing you every day. She finished hugging me and picked up her granddaughter to give her a tight squeeze.

Mama put Juniper down and gestured inside. “We’ll just take a seat in the parlor, Emily. It’ll be a while before the casserole is ready. The cooking started late.” She beamed a smile at Juniper. “You can go to the toy room.”