So did Evelyn, as it turned out. “Maybe Arden St. Sebastian is the right girl, but you’ll never know if you cancel the date.”
…
Arden prowled around the master bedroom of the penthouse suite while her mother unpacked. A lot.
“Three bags, Mom? How long are you planning to stay?”
Her mother paused on the way to the closet, holding a gorgeous pale pink Escada they’d picked out in Paris over Christmas, and gave an airy wave. “I don’t know, honey. Rafe said this hasn’t really been much of a vacation for you, so far. Maybe you can extend your stay for a few days, and we can shop. Go to the spa. You know”—she shrugged and turned away to hang up the gown—“have some girl time.”
Arden dropped into one of the cushioned chairs in sitting area. “That sounds nice, but you know Dad’s arriving tomorrow?”
Her mom’s stride hitched on the way back to the bed where the last open suitcase sat. The slightest frown pulled at her lips. “Your brother didn’t mention that.”
“He may not have known Luc’s itinerary.” Or cared to cater to their parents’ aim of avoiding each other, but she found herself offering excuses anyway. “I just found out today.”
“It’s a big hotel,” her mother said with another careless wave. “I’m sure we can stay out of each other’s way. The man loves to work, first and foremost. It’s unlikely he’ll have the neighboring cabana at the pool.”
True. But still.
“Where’s…um…” The name of Mr. Palm Springs escaped her. “…the golf instructor?”
Her mom flopped down in the other chair and rolled her eyes. “On a golf course somewhere, I presume. Sad to say, I really don’t care.”
“Well. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not like I was in love with him. Men.” She let out a long-suffering sigh and turned to Arden. “Tell me about this one you’ve been dealing with.”
Rider? Her heart skittered. How had her mother found out about him? She thought she’d dodged a bullet in the lobby. “It’s not…serious,” she finished lamely. The words left a sour aftertaste on her tongue.
“Not serious? Arden, he stalked and blackmailed you.” Her mother reached over and squeezed her arm. “I call that serious. You must have been terrified.”
“Oh, that.” Her pulse settled, and she let out a relieved laugh. “That was nothing, Mom. Honestly. I was disappointed in myself for
being dumb enough to become a target and angry with him for being the kind of guy who would resort to those tactics for money. But otherwise”—she tried out one of her mother’s shrugs—“it’s not like I was in love with him.”
Mom gave her arm another squeeze. “Well, I still want to strangle him, but thank goodness he didn’t break your heart on top of everything else.”
“My heart is safe.” Was it? Those words tasted false, too. She remembered Rider looking at her from across the Jeep. I thought you’d never ask. But she had asked, and he’d agreed, and then she’d shaken him off because her mother had shown up, unknowingly almost ruining the most amazing week of her life.
Her mother was here. Her father was coming tomorrow. The lighting in the suite seemed too bright. She closed her eyes and rubbed the twitching muscle under the left one. Her Maui escape was turning into a clusterfuck.
“Uh-oh. I know that look.” Concern laced her mother’s voice. “Something’s wrong. Are you sure you didn’t love him?”
“No. Seriously, no.” She dropped her hand and dredged up a smile. “To be honest, I’m not sure love is in the cards for me. I mean, it seems to be a rare phenomenon in St. Sebastian relationships, and I’ve gone this long without getting struck by that bolt of lightning.”
Her mom laughed. “Love is definitely in the cards for you. I worried about Rafe, because he can be such a cynic, but you? Never.”
“Maybe Rafe’s the exception to the rule? Dad probably has the right idea. Don’t get too bogged down in the emotions, because they might be fleeting. Find a match that makes sense on paper. Look at you and Dad.”
“Don’t let your father and me warp you. We love each other, in our own ways.”
That surprised her. “You do?”
“How could we not? We gave each other you and Rafe. We just can’t stand to live together. I hate feeling like I come in second to his work, and he hates feeling like he’s a terrible husband—which he is. Your father and I made a lot of mistakes, but we did a couple things right, and you’re one of them. That said, you are your own person, not a sum of our flawed parts. You’re also more than a pillar in the St. Sebastian enterprise, regardless of what your father might like to think. The right man is out there for you. Don’t stop believing that.”
She blinked, not sure how to respond to the advice. Finally she settled for, “Thanks, Mom.”
“I have my motherly moments.”