Chapter 43 #2
“You’re fine with Frank’s money because you’re fine with Frank. So I’m assuming there’s something about me that you’re not fine with? I thought we got past all of that.”
“It’s not that, but I don’t?—”
“I know. You don’t like it.” This isn’t going well at all. “Stephanie, does this change something between us? We’re still”—how do I finish this sentence?—“whatever we are, right?”
“Yes. But the money bugs me.” I can practically see her mind racing in a thousand directions as she continues to fidget with her hands. Her eyes are full of concern. “Are there a lot of people who know how much money you have?”
I think as we pull into the airplane hangar. “Deke, my accountant, maybe a few others. Not a lot. It’s not information I volunteer.”
“Good. That’s good.” She pats my arm, like she’s trying to reassure me of something. “You should keep it that way. People should not know how much money you have.”
I have to work to not laugh, because I can tell she’s deadly serious. “So you don’t hate me, you hate that I have money.”
“Exactly!” Relief crosses her face.
A huge grin spreads across my face as I hop out and get our bags from the back of my Jeep. I hand them to the man waiting for us, and he loads them onto the jet.
“What are you so happy about? This is so bad!” She’s almost scolding me, and I hold back a chuckle.
“I can deal with so bad.” I practically skip up to the plane.
“What do you mean, you can deal with so bad?” Her voice sounds like she’s getting ready for a fight.
Maverick steps out of the plane to greet me, but he stops abruptly when he sees Stephanie. “Is that?—”
“Yep.” I give him a satisfied nod. “Stephanie, meet Maverick, my pilot.”
“He’s your pilot? You have your own pilot?” She gestures from the jet to Maverick with all the animation I would expect from Stephanie.
“Yes, I do.” I take her by the hand and walk her up the airstairs. “But like I said, I’m filthy rich, so I can do stuff like that.” I’m starting to enjoy this.
As I reach the top of the stairs, Maverick whispers to me under his breath. “That’s a bold approach I’ve not seen you take before.”
I lower my voice in return. “I’m ripping the Band-Aid off at this point.” I lean in. “She hates it. Hates it all.”
“Good for you.” Maverick seems pleased and gives Stephanie a nod that conveys his approval.
“Yep. That’s why I’m going to keep her.” I give Maverick a fist bump as he slides his sunglasses on and slips into the cockpit.
“What do you mean, you’re going to keep me?” Apparently my voice wasn’t soft enough. “It’s not like I’m a rock you found on the beach, Mallory.”
I kinda like that she called me Mallory again.
I lead her to a plush seat near the front of the plane and gesture for her to sit down. She does and then buckles up with as much attitude as she can muster.
I try to keep my expression neutral. “I want to clarify a few things—and stop me at any point if I’m wrong.
You don’t have a problem with me personally, and we’re still .
. . friends.” I pause to see if she’s going to interject.
When she remains silent, I go on. “You hate my money, but you’re unsure why.
” I stop again, but she says nothing. “This is fantastic news.”
“How is this fantastic? I’m very annoyed!” Her sharp eyes would have made me nervous a mere twenty minutes ago but now only add to my attraction.
“Yes, you’re annoyed—but it’s not with me, and I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.
So, let me point out a few things.” She folds her arms, agitated.
“There’s a mini fridge to your left,” I open and close the mini fridge, “here’s the remote to the television,” I point to the remote on the small end table next to her, “and this is a phone.” I open a small compartment on the end table, revealing a phone.
“If you push nine, it will call the back cabin, where I will be.”
She halts her irritated gestures, but only for a second. “What?” Her back straightens. “You can’t go in the back now. We’re arguing about your private jet and your private pilot.”
“Aww. Our first argument? This is an incredibly intimate moment for us.”
“You’re impossible.” She sounds furious.
“I think you need some privacy to process everything. So I’m going to go back there,” I point to the back bedroom, “and I’ll call you in ten minutes. If you answer the phone, I’ll know you’re ready to talk. If you don’t, I’ll know you need a little more time.”
Then I abruptly leave her, walk back to the rear cabin, take out my phone, and call my mom. After a few rings, she answers. “Mom, have I told you how much I love you and that I think you’re the smartest woman I know?”
“Yes, dear, but you’re free to tell me again.” I hear the smile in her voice.
“I had to tell her about the money because we’re taking the jet. I tried to ease her into it, but I ended up dumping it on her. I even used the words ‘filthy rich.’”
“How’d she take it?”
“Not well at all. She hates the money. Best. Day. Ever.”
“I’m very happy for you, Cooper. Now, if you need to give all the blasted money away to keep her, do it. Cause if you lose her, we’re keeping her and getting rid of you.”
“I’d do the same thing if I were you, but don’t worry, Mom. I have no intention of losing her now.”