Cade
CADE
reached into his pocket and slid out his phone to check the time. Sighing, he pushed it back into the safety of his pants. Leave it to his mother to make him wait. Now, if the shoe were on the other foot, he could expect half a dozen calls the moment she didn’t see him at the precise time they agreed to meet. She, however, was nearly twenty minutes late and hadn’t sent one message.
“Typical,” he grumbled, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other.
He glanced over his shoulder, forcing a smile as a woman came strolling out of the cafe he was standing outside. The place was far more upscale than he would have chosen, but his mother had insisted. A small seating area was dotted with little tables, perfect for intimate conversations between two people. Well, he assumed that was the intention anyway. The small area was cordoned off from the busy sidewalk by a waist-high metal fence. It wasn’t all that secluded, but he supposed it was the thought that counted.
His eyes drifted back toward the woman as she paused before stepping onto the sidewalk, rummaging through her purse. While he wasn’t quite sure what the point of wearing leggings as pants was, he wouldn’t argue with the results. was a sucker for a good pair of legs, and tight leggings was the quickest way to get his attention. It was tempting to approach the woman. The whimsical print of frolicking cats in neon colors would have made a perfect excuse to strike up a conversation and subtly cover up the fact that he’d been checking her out.
Instead, he rummaged through his other pocket and pulled out a mangled pack of cigarettes. Stepping away from the cafe, walked a few feet away. The side street was less busy than the one in front of the cafe. He kept his distance from people walking by, pulling a lighter from his pocket and flicking it to life. Sucking deeply, he felt the bite of the smoke hit the back of his throat.
Sure, his mother would bitch endlessly that he smelled like an ashtray. Technically, he’d quit and was happy to let her continue believing that. He’d forgone a cigarette before showing up, thinking she’d be on time and not wanting to smell like smoke. Considering she didn’t even have the decency to send an apology text with an explanation, thought she could suffer through the smell.
A wry voice from his right piped up. “Those will kill you, you know.”
blinked, turning to look at a woman dressed in the black slacks and white button-up he’d seen the cafe employees wearing. Her hair was a sheet of shining black, which she tossed over her shoulders with a wicked grin that gripped his attention as surely as the devilish glint in her eyes.
He watched her raise a cigarette to her lips and grinned. “We’re all dying, right?”
“Picking your poison, huh?” she asked.
Glancing at the swell of her breasts against her shirt, he chuckled. “Well, one of them.”
If she noticed his glance, she didn’t seem bothered. In fact, the amused tilt to her lips grew stronger. “I’m Julie.”
“.”
She nodded. “Oh, I know all about you, Masters.”
He blinked. “Uh, well, usually when people know my name before I know theirs, I’m either in for a good time or a bad one.”
Julie laughed. “I’m May’s friend.”
That did not help in the slightest. Considering the name didn’t immediately click, could only assume it was a girl he’d picked up from a bar or club. They weren’t people he filed away in his long-term memory.
“You don’t remember her, do you?” she asked.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether or not I’m getting smacked if I answer honestly.”
Julie tossed her hair over her shoulder again, chuckling. “You’re safe.”
“Right, yeah, don’t remember her, sorry.”
She shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s not a surprise. Someone like you probably doesn’t keep a catalog of the girls you’ve been with.”
’s brow shot up. “Someone like me?”
She cocked her hip, rolling her eyes. “Yes. A good-looking guy who reeks of womanizer.”
frowned, and not just because he hated that term. She was obviously in good spirits, but it was tricky to focus on defending himself when Julie angled her hips toward him. Even with the loose slacks, it wasn’t hard to see she’d been blessed with a good ass.
“You make it sound so...dirty,” finally protested.
Julie laughed. “Fine, would you prefer I call you a slut?”
winked, pointing at her. “Now, that’s a term I can get behind.”
“And here I thought your goal was to get behind someone, not something.”
“I can do both. I’m a man of many talents.”
Julie’s dark gaze swept over him in obvious appraisement. “So I’ve been told.”
hissed in a breath, wincing. “Ooh, so your friend remembers me.”
“Yes, and you don’t remember her.”
“I feel like this conversation is going to bite me in the ass at some point.”
She leaned to the side, looking over his ass. “It’s a good one to bite.”
“Am I being hit on right now, or are you setting me up just to knock me down?”
“Just how many girls have you pissed off, mister?” she asked, her tone growing even more amused.
“A...few, here and there,” he answered honestly.
Which he personally thought was bullshit. It wasn’t as though he’d lied to any of them. It’s why he hated being called a womanizer. It conjured up an image of some greasy sleazeball who lied and seduced their way into a woman’s pants. He never promised more than one night and insisted he would do his absolute best to ensure they had a good time.
“Hmm,” Julie hummed thoughtfully. “Weird. May said you were a perfect gentleman.”
“Well, I’m glad she enjoyed herself,” said, meaning it.
The devilish glint returned to her eyes. “And that you fuck like a champ.”
flashed a none-too-modest grin. “Well, now I’m definitely glad she enjoyed herself.”
“I know, right? It's free advertising.”
looked her over, wondering how defined her curves were out of the loose-fitting outfit. “Question is, is the advertising finding me another customer?”
“Only if you let me buy you a drink first.”
’s brow raised. “Oh? Asserting yourself so soon?”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
Okay, she already had his interest, but now she had his attention.
“Well, with that promise hanging over us, why don’t I give you my number, and you can tell me when and where to meet you,” offered.
“You don’t want mine?” she asked curiously.
shrugged. “If you have mine, you can make it happen whenever. But I know most women aren’t comfortable with guys having their numbers.”
She laughed. “Well, I’ve had a few persistent guys in the past. Then again, I’ve known a few women who are just as bad. You’re telling me your charming ass hasn’t had any problems?”
chuckled, rubbing his forearm. “Nothing worth noting.”
Julie pulled out her phone. “Alright, give me the number then.”
did so, still grinning. “Just give me a shout when you’re ready.”
Her mouth opened, but her brow furrowed. Before could do anything more than wonder what was wrong, a hand appeared from behind him. A set of perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted a dainty pink, clamped over the cigarette between his lips. Startled, he jerked back as the cigarette was tossed to the ground.
“Kaidan Anthony Masters, you told me you had quit ,” his mother’s sharp voice rebuked.
Oh hell.
“Hello, Mother, it’s nice of you to show up finally,” said in a tired voice.
Turning his gaze away from the preferable sight of Julie, he faced his mother. As usual, she was dressed smartly, her pantsuit a bold purple with the customary string of pearls at her neck. didn’t think he’d ever seen his mother look anything but ready to meet a very important person. Even in his childhood, she was awake well before he was, dressed perfectly, hair coifed, make-up perfect, and ready to take on the world.
Pamela Masters eyed her son with the hazel eyes she’d passed down to him. “Well?”
turned, shooting Julie an apologetic look. “Talk to you later?”
With her brow still raised, Julie ground her cigarette out. “Yeah, sure. Uh, good luck.”
He watched her go, knowing his chances of hearing from her after this mortifying yet typical display had probably crashed. Nothing was sexier than watching a guy get his balls cut off by his mother.
turned back to his mother. “Am I going to hear why you decided to show up almost a half-hour late?”
Pamela’s thin brow arched sharply. “Do not try to change the subject, Kaidan.”
“So that’s a no then,” he said.
She sniffed daintily. “I was caught up with an important phone call. You know full well that my day is occupied most of the time.”
Mm, didn’t he know it, and if he ever thought about forgetting, she’d quickly remind him.
“And which cocktail party are you arranging this time?” he asked in a sugary, sweet voice.
She wasn’t fooled. “Don’t get smart, Kaidan. I’d hoped by now, you would understand how important it is that your father and I are both seen and known. Networking is just as important to business as making deals and sales.”
Yes, because it had nothing at all to do with his mother’s almost pathological need to be seen, heard, and, most importantly, obeyed. His father might have his hands on the wheel when it came to the business, but his mother was the one who held the reins tightly in every other way. Her word was law in the home, and she was the undisputed mistress of all parties, galas, and whatever else she decided to involve herself in.
“What, and I don’t get an invite?” asked with mock hurt.
Pamela’s nostrils flared slightly. “The last time you even deigned to be seen at one of my functions, you made a complete fool of yourself and our family.”
’s lip twitched. “Oh, it wasn’t that bad.”
“You and your...friend ruined the garden party.”
“It was one little section of fencing. How were we supposed to know you didn’t have the thing secured properly?”
“By sitting in a chair like any normal person. And it was more than just the fencing, and you know it.”
was trying extremely hard to keep his features as schooled as possible. It was difficult, however, as his mother’s barely restrained indignation showed through. Poor Elias, the man was just too big for his own good. He’d not so much tried to sit on the fencing but leaned against it for a bit of rest, having been dragged to the party by . Elias had been exhausted from a long shift at the station, and his reflexes weren’t as sharp as usual. The poorly secured section of decorative fencing had buckled under Elias’ weight and taken him with it. That alone would have been enough, but there also happened to be a small table next to Elias, and his foot had smacked into it. The delicate statuettes and a vase with crystal flowers had gone flying. The sharp sound of shattering glass and the hollow clatter of the table hitting the ground had drawn the eyes of everyone at the party.
“Elias was incredibly sorry, and it was an accident,” he reminded her.
She sniffed. “He wouldn’t have to be sorry if he had been more careful. Honestly, Kaidan, I wish?—”
cut her off. “Let’s not finish that sentence, Mother.”
“I’m allowed to wish good things for my son.”
“Not at the expense of my friends, especially Elias.”
The false cheer in his voice was gone, replaced by what he hoped was a hard enough warning. He was not discussing Elias with her. There were plenty of things about his life that she could and did take issue with, and he was resigned to having to listen to her grievances every time they saw one another. It had been a fact of life for all of his twenty-seven years, but even he had his limits.
Her jaw was set stubbornly. “I’m sure he’s a perfectly nice person, but?—”
“How would you know when you won’t have anything to do with him?”
“I have had a conversation with him, Kaidan.”
“Yes, and you showed him the same courtesy you’d show a dirty stray that wandered up.”
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, Kaidan. I was perfectly polite and friendly. You act as if I’m incapable of speaking to someone?—”
She trailed off, and he raised a brow. “What, someone poor? Someone not of your station?”
“It’s your station as well,” she reminded him for the millionth time.
“No, my station is about a mile that way,” he said, pointing.
“Honestly, you’re going to be twenty-eight this year. I think that’s quite long enough for you to have grown out of this phase of yours.”
He rolled his eyes, glad she’d chosen something else to harp on about. His mother would never admit that she was changing the topic. No, couldn’t admit she might be compromising. And he knew she wasn’t compromising out of some sense of respect, but because the last time she’d pushed too hard about Elias, there had been a bit of a scene. might not like to make an ass of himself in public, but as she’d learned, he wasn’t above drawing attention with a raised voice because of her none-too-subtle dislike of Elias.
“I don’t think anyone goes through the training, sticks around for years as a firefighter, and then somehow outgrows it, Mother. I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’m probably going to be sticking with it,” he told her.
It was the answer she should have been used to hearing while also being the one she liked the least. kept a mental checklist every time he met her. While the order of subjects she liked to ‘discuss’ differed each time, he always left with every mental box checked.
“And the women?” she asked.
Ah, there’s the next box, check.
“I just haven’t found the right woman, Mother,” he assured her.
“Yes, and if you’re anything like I’ve heard, you’re very...diligently making sure to check each and every one,” she said as she turned to walk toward the cafe.
Free of her gaze, grinned. “I like to be thorough.”
“Well, honestly, you would do well to comport yourself a little better. Christine still has her eyes on you, and that would be a perfect match,” his mother said fondly.
wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, I know you think it would be.”
“It would.”
Christine Hoffman was on the city council and on excellent, though thankfully not too friendly, terms with his mother. That she also happened to be the one who oversaw most of the public works, including the firefighting stations, was a thorn in ’s side. Christine was a good-looking woman and undoubtedly a capable one. The problem was she was way too much like the men and women Pamela was so fond of, which was the opposite of what enjoyed. She was the personification of class and money, which always left a sour taste on ’s tongue.
And worst of all, she was as persistent, if not more, than his mother.
“She’s a lovely woman and highly intelligent. I think you would make a lovely pair,” Pamela continued, not bothering to see if was even listening.
“I’m sure,” said, wondering if his mother was picturing the grandkids yet.
“And as a council member? That would be lovely, imagine,” she continued.
rolled his eyes. Yes, he couldn’t forget that he’d yet to bring anything of note to the family. It was better that he married someone who could do that for him since he was so hellbent on living his own life and career, not the one his parents wished for him.
“I take it you’ve spoken to her recently,” said.
“I have. She attended the charity dinner Michael Turner hosted last weekend.”
Sensing his opportunity, feigned interest. “Really? What was the charity?”
“Oh, funding for the city homeless shelters and a few clinics. You know how Michael is. He loves to dip his fingers into the pies of the downtrodden,” Pamela said, waving a hand.
But despite the dismissive gesture, she continued the story. Despite how maddening it was to have an actual conversation with his mother, she always hogged the whole damn thing. It was remarkably easy to get her talking. All he needed to do was make the occasional interested noise or ask a brief question to show he was at least pretending to care, and she would talk endlessly.
It was a shame the cafe didn’t serve harder drinks.