Billionaire's Single Mom

“What’s there to understand about your situation?”

I shrugged. “That I’m busy. I’m the CEO of a major financial management firm. I put in sixty- and seventy-hour work weeks a lot. And then there’s the fact that we’re in Nashville.”

“What about Nashville?” She cut me with a look that bordered on a glare. There were a lot of lines I might be able to cross, but insulting my city wasn’t one of them. Not that it was what I was trying to do.

“It’s even harder here because we have to compete with all the New York and London firms, and we don’t have access to the same networks of people here. Just saying it took me more work to get where I am.” I pointed to my wall. Various magazine and newspaper articles encased in glass hung on the wall. “You don’t earn that kind of respect by not working hard.”

“No one is telling you not to work hard, Logan. Plenty of businessmen date.”

“I understand, but dating takes time, Mother, and the one thing I don’t have a lot of is time. I’m not prepared to give up my career for a woman, and it wouldn’t be fair to her to date a man who isn’t ready to give her the attention she needs. Don’t you think that would be cruel?”

“I can’t believe you.” My mother rubbed her temples. “Now you’re just being obstinate. There are plenty of women who would understand a man who works hard. You’re using it as an excuse because you don’t want to date for whatever reason.”

“No, I’m providing an explanation.”

“Are you trying to upset me?”

“No, Mother, I’m not.” I tapped a small glass statuette on my desk. “When I got this award, it was proof that the industry respects my efforts. I like my work, and I make a lot of people rich. They spend that money, and it helps make jobs. So, I’m helping the economy of the country, the state, and Nashville. Isn’t that a good thing?”

My mother shook her head. “Listen to yourself. What if your father, God rest his soul, had thought like that? What if he had spent all his time worrying about magazine articles and awards? You wouldn’t even be here, now would you?” She nodded once, a satisfied look settling over her face. “I bet you wouldn’t like that at all.”

I resisted another smart remark. The last thing I wanted to do was seriously upset my mother, so it was time to direct the conversation in a different direction.

“I have plenty of time to get married. Remember Bill Hobson? I went to his wedding last week, and he’s fifty-five.”

“Um-hm,” my mother said, a frown on her face. “The one who married the girl thirty years younger than him? Is that your plan? Wait until you’re fifty-five and cradle rob?”

I rubbed the back of the neck, regretting picking that example. “No, I’m not planning that. I’m only saying I still have some time.”

My mother crossed her arms. “I don’t want to wait until you’re fifty-five. I might not last that long.” She placed her hands together. “Please, I’m begging you.”

I let out a long sigh. The whole conversation wasn’t going the way I’d hoped.

“Besides, I’m going to make this as painless as possible,” she said.

Painless as possible was one of those phrases that suggested the whole thing was going to be extra painful. I only barely stopped myself from pointing that out to my mother.

“How so?” I offered instead. Nice and reasonable.

“The hard part is searching and filtering through all the available women. I understand that. You have all those computer sites and things on your phone and whatnot, but they make it harder not easier.” She folded her hands back in her lap. “And as you’ve made rather clear, you’re very busy, so I can understand why you might have trouble finding a good woman. I can help with that.”

“Okay,” I said, waiting for the painful part to come.

“I’m going to cut out all the trouble. No computer sites or phone dating. I’ve already got a perfectly lovely woman for you to meet.”

My back and shoulders tensed. “Wait. Are you seriously trying to set up an arranged marriage? This is America, Mother.”

She put a hand over her mouth and laughed. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m just saying my friend Sally Jolie has a perfectly lovely daughter. She’s from a good family with good breeding and strong roots in the area, and I know she can deliver grandchildren because she already has one.”

“She already has children? What if they don’t like me?”

“Oh, everyone’s fine with children, and she only has one.”

“So, you’re saying you want me to date a divorced woman?”

My mother clucked her tongue. “Judge not lest ye be judged. It wasn’t her fault. Her husband was an awful man, an adulterer. She divorced him. Good riddance to bad rubbish.” She sniffed disdainfully. “She works for a bank. You even have similar jobs.”

I didn’t bother to correct her.