When she got worked up about something, she couldn't let it go.
"Hi, Mom.
I'm sorry.
I planned on calling you at lunch and catching up."
"I love Vegas."
"You do?" I thought she hated anything remotely related to gambling.
"I didn't know that."
"You would've if you'd asked."
There was a hurt note in my mother's breathy voice that made me wince.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I said again, having learned as a child that repeated apologies went a long way with her.
"I needed to spend some downtime with Cary.
We can talk about a future trip to Vegas, though, if you'd like to go sometime."
"Wouldn't that be fun? I'd like to do fun things with you, Eva."
"I'd like that, too."
My eyes went to the picture of my mother and Stanton.
She was a beautiful woman, one who radiated a vulnerable sensuality to which men responded helplessly.
The vulnerability was real - my mom was fragile in many ways - but she was a man-eater, too.
Men didn't take advantage of my mom; she walked all over them.
"Do you have plans for lunch? I could make a reservation and come get you."
"Can I bring a co-worker?" Megumi had hit me up with a lunch invitation when I'd come in, promising to regale me with the tale of her blind date."Oh, I'd love to meet the people you work with!" My mouth curved with genuine affection.
My mom drove me nuts a lot, but at the end of the day, her biggest fault was that she loved me too much.
Combined with her neurosis, it was a maddening flaw, but one motivated by the best of intentions.
"Okay.
Pick us up at noon.
And remember, we only get an hour, so it'll have to be close by and quick."
"I'll take care of it.
I'm excited! See you soon."
* * *
Megumi and my mother took to each other right away.
I recognized the familiar starry-eyed look on Megumi's face when they met, because I'd seen it so often over the years.
Monica Stanton was a stunning woman, the kind of classic beauty you couldn't help but stare at because you couldn't believe anyone could be that perfect.
Plus, the royal purple hue of the wingback she'd elected to sit in was an amazing backdrop for her golden hair and blue eyes.For her part, my mom was delighted by Megumi's fashion sense.
While my wardrobe choices leaned more toward traditional and ready-to- wear, Megumi favored unique combinations and color, much like the decor of the trendy cafe near Rockefeller Center my mom had taken us to.
The place reminded me of Alice in Wonderland, with its gilt and jewel- toned velvets used on uniquely shaped furniture.
The chaise Megumi was perched on had an exaggerated curved back, while my mother's wingback had gargoyles for feet.
"I'm still trying to figure out what's wrong with him," Megumi went on.
"I was looking, let me tell you.
I mean a guy that great shouldn't be slumming it with blind dates."
"Hardly slumming it," my mom protested.
"I'm sure he's wondering how he lucked out with you."
"Thanks!" Megumi grinned at me.
"He was seriously hot.
Not Gideon Cross hot, but hot all the same."
"How is Gideon, by the way?" I didn't take my mom's question lightly.
She was aware that Gideon knew about the abuse I'd suffered as a child, and she'd taken the news hard.
It was her greatest shame that she hadn't known what was going on under her own roof, and her guilt was enormous, as well as entirely undeserved.
She hadn't known because I'd hidden it.
Nathan had made me fear what he'd do if I ever told anyone.
Still, my mother was anxious about Gideon's knowing.
I hoped that she'd soon come to realize that Gideon didn't hold it against her any more than I did.
"He's working hard," I answered.
"You know how it is.
I've taken up a lot of his time since we hooked up, and I think he's paying for it now."
"You're worth it."
I took a large gulp of my water when I felt the nearly overwhelming urge to tell her that my dad was coming to visit.
She'd be an ally in convincing him of Gideon's affection for me, but that was a selfish reason to say anything.
I had no idea how she would react to Victor's being in New York, but it was highly possible she'd be distressed, and that would make everyone's life hell.
Whatever her reasons, she preferred to have no contact with him whatsoever.
I couldn't ignore how she'd managed to avoid seeing or talking to him since I'd become old enough to communicate with him directly.
"I saw a picture of Cary on the side of a bus yesterday," she said.
"Really?" I sat up straighter.
"Where?" "On Broadway.
A jeans ad, I think it was."
"I saw one, too," Megumi said.
"Not that I paid any attention to what he was wearing.
That man is fine."
The conversation made me smile.
My mother was adept at admiring men.
It was one of the many reasons they adored her - she made them feel good.
Megumi was more than her match in the guy-appreciation department.
"He's been getting recognized on the street," I said, glad that in this case we were talking about an ad and not a tabloid candid with me.
The gossips thought it was so juicy that Gideon Cross's girlfriend lived with a sexy male model.
"Of course," my mom said, with a slight note of chastisement.
"You didn't doubt he would eventually?" "I'd hoped," I qualified.
"For his sake.
It's a sad fact that male models don't make as much or work as often as the women do."
Although I'd expected Cary would break through somehow.
Emotionally, he couldn't afford not to.
He'd learned to put so much value on his looks that I didn't think he could allow himself to fail.
It was one of my deepest fears that his career choice would come back to haunt him in ways neither of us could bear.
My mother took a delicate sip of her Pellegrino.
The cafe specialized in cacao-laced menu items, but she was careful not to waste her daily calorie allotment on one meal.
I was less cautious.
I'd ordered a soup and sandwich combination plus a dessert that was going to cost me at least an extra hour on the treadmill later.
I excused the indulgence with a mental reminder that I was on my period, which was a carte blanche chocolate zone in my opinion.
"So," Monica smiled at Megumi, "will you be seeing your blind date again?" "I hope so."
"Darling, don't leave it to chance!" As my mom started doling out her wisdom in regard to managing men, I sat back and enjoyed the show.
She was of the firm belief that every woman deserved to have a wealthy man to dote on her, and for the first time in forever, she wasn't concentrating her matchmaking efforts on me.
While I was worried about how my dad and Gideon would hit it off, I had no concerns about my mom's feelings on the matter.
We both thought I was with the right guy for me, although for different reasons.
"Your mom rocks," Megumi said, when Monica ducked into the ladies' room to freshen up before we left.
"And you look just like her, lucky you.
How bad would it suck to have a mom who's hotter than you are?" Laughing, I told her, "I'll have to drag you along with us again.
This worked out great."
"I'd like that."
When it was time to go, I looked at Clancy and the town car waiting at the curb for us and realized I wanted to walk off some of my lunch before I got back to work.
"I think I'm going to hoof it back," I told them.
"I ate too much.
You two go on without me."
"I'll go with you," Megumi said.
"I could use the air, hot as it is.
That canned air in the office makes my skin dry."
"I'll come, too," my mom offered.
I eyed her delicate heels skeptically, but then again, my mom wore nothing but heels.
For her, walking in those was probably the same as walking in flats was to me.
We headed back to the Crossfire at the standard stride rate for Manhattan, which was something of a steady, purposeful clip.
While weaving around human obstacles was usually part of the process, it was far less of an issue with my mom in the lead.
Men moved reverently off to the side for her, then followed her with their eyes.
In her simple, sexy wrap dress of ice blue, she looked cool and refreshing in the humid heat.
We'd just turned the corner to reach the Crossfire when she came to an abrupt halt that caused Megumi and me to crash into the back of her.
She stumbled forward, wobbling, and I barely caught her by the elbow before she teetered over.
I looked at the ground to see what had held her up, but when I didn't see anything I looked at her.
She was staring at the Crossfire in a daze.
"Jesus, Mom," I urged her out of the flow of pedestrians.
"You're white as a sheet.
Is the heat getting to you? Do you feel dizzy?" "What?" Her hand went to her throat.
Her dilated gaze remained fixed to the Crossfire.
Turning my head, I followed her line of sight, trying to see whatever it was that she did.
"What are you two looking at?" Megumi asked, frowning down the street.
"Mrs.
Stanton."
Clancy approached, having abandoned the town car he'd been driving at a safe but discreet distance behind us.
"Is everything all right?" "Did you see - ?" she began, looking to him with her question.
"See what?" I demanded, as his head snapped up and his trained gaze raked the length of the street.
The absoluteness of his focus sent a shiver down my spine.
"Let me drive you three the rest of the way," he said quietly.
The entrance to the Crossfire was literally across the street, but something in Clancy's tone brooked no argument.
We all climbed in, with my mother taking the front seat.
"What was that about?" Megumi asked after we'd been dropped off and had moved into the cool interior of the building.
"Your mom looked like she'd seen a ghost."
"I have no idea."
But I felt ill.
Something had frightened my mother.
It was going to drive me crazy until I found out what it was.
Chapter 7
My back hit the mat with enough force to knock the air from my lungs.
Stunned, I blinked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath.
Parker Smith's face came into view.
"You're wasting my time.
If you're going to be here, be here.
One hundred percent.
Not a million miles away in your head somewhere."
I grabbed the hand he extended to me, and he yanked me to my feet.
Around us, a dozen more of Parker's Krav Maga students were hard at work.
The Brooklyn-based studio was alive with noise and activity.
He was right.
My thoughts were still stuck on my mom and the bizarre way she'd reacted when we returned to the Crossfire after lunch.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"I've got something on my mind."
He moved like lightning, tagging me first on one knee, then my shoulder with rapid-fire slaps.
"Do you think an attacker is going to wait until you're alert and ready before he comes after you?" I crouched, forcing myself to focus.