Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
cole
Maya told me that both Elliott and Ava resemble their respective dads.
What she failed to mention was that her looks weren’t passed down from the guy marked “unknown” on her birth certificate.
The fair skin, the dark hair that curls at the ends, and the sultry blue eyes?
Yeah. All her mother. She’s only just entered the restaurant, but even with a dining room separating us, their copy-and-paste genetics are as clear as day.
Maya digs an elbow into my side, snapping me out of my blatant surprise. “Would you stop checking out my mom?”
“I wasn’t checking her out,” I defend, averting my attention. “You just failed to mention that you look alike.”
“Sorry, was that supposed to make me feel better?”
I place a hand on the back of her neck and squeeze lightly. To say she’s on edge would be a gross understatement. “You’re beautiful. She’s a hag.”
With a light snort, she settles back into the plush chair with a swirling blue design dancing across the fabric.
The French restaurant is wildly ostentatious, with its white-clothed tables, massive chandeliers with crystal adornments, and oil paintings of castles in green fields.
It’s the kind of place that makes me afraid to touch anything.
“You just said we look alike.”
I hum. “I take it back. While there are similarities, you, my dear, are the fairest of them all.”
Sighing, she intertwines her fingers with mine under the table and rests her head against my arm. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
I brush my lips against her temple. The anticipation that’s plagued her all day rubs at her frayed nerves in all the wrong ways.
And the way her mom waltzed in five minutes ago and is still chatting up the hostess like they’re long-lost friends despite already being fifteen minutes late isn’t helping.
Ava returns from the bathroom and slides into the seat next to Maya, wearing a shell-shocked look. “There’s a bidet in there,” she whisper-yells, her eyes darting around. “Who the hell is cleaning their asshole at a restaurant?”
Her voice rises on the word asshole, causing Maya to close her eyes in mortification and me to choke on a laugh. Blessedly, we’re saved from responding when a tinkling voice calls out, “My girls!”
Neither Ava nor Maya moves, because as their mother approaches the table, it dawns on us all that the extra seat wasn’t a mistake on the hostess’s part, but a seat for the man hovering behind Deirdre. A man I saw step into the restaurant but assumed was with the large party waiting to be seated.
While Maya doesn’t act surprised by his presence, her hand tightens around mine. I rub my thumb soothingly against the back of it, a silent acknowledgment that I’m here.
“I didn’t know he was coming,” Ava murmurs.
Face etched in hurt, she peers at Maya. It’s easy to forget how young she is because she’s so well-spoken and witty, but at only eighteen, she still has a lot of life lessons left to learn.
Although if it were up to Maya—and me—being disappointed by their mother wouldn’t be on that list.
Not letting a hint of annoyance show, Maya smiles at her sister. “The more the merrier. Right, Aves?”
Deirdre leans down to give each of her daughters a hug, then pauses, surveying me. “And who might you be, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?”
A spark of hurt flashes through me. Maya and her mom aren’t close, but if she’s never mentioned me to this woman, I can’t help but feel like a dirty little secret.
Maya’s jaw spasms, but she forces a polite smile. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Cole. I told you about him on the phone. He’s from San Diego, has a dog named Goose, plays for the Bobcats… ring a bell?”
“Hmm. Maybe.” She taps her manicured finger against her cheek. “Anyway, it’s lovely to meet you.” She dismisses the topic and zeroes in on Maya. “Where’s Elliott?”
Maya’s muscles have once again bunched up with tension. “Stuck in traffic.”
Deirdre huffs, rolling her eyes in a way a woman her age should be too old for. “He couldn’t bother to leave early enough to be on time?”
“You changed locations on us an hour ago,” Maya points out, her hand practically strangling mine. “We originally planned to meet at a restaurant near his office.”
Rather than respond, Deirdre lifts her chin and moves on in her introductions. “Maya, Ava, you remember my partner, Keith, right?”
The man still hovering partially behind her holds out his hand.
It’s only then that I realize how young he is.
With his slicked-back blond hair and light stubble, he looks like Brad Pitt circa the ’90s.
There’s no way the guy’s a day over thirty-five, making him far closer in age to Maya and me than to her mom. Holy shit. Deirdre Silver is a cougar.
I shake Keith’s hand and introduce myself, all while shooting Maya subtle glances. As Deirdre and Keith take their seats, I whisper to Maya, “How did you fail to mention that your mom was in high school when her partner was born?”
She covers up her laugh by coughing into her arm, then leans in close, voice lowered, and answers, “I didn’t think they’d last this long.”
Once we’ve ordered a bottle of wine and a few appetizers, Ava dives into conversation, catching her mom up on things she should already know.
She just aced an English assignment. Well, duh.
Maya helped her, so no surprise there. Her roommate has a new boyfriend who stays at their dorm all the time.
Even I knew that; Maya filled me in on the drama weeks ago.
She wants to major in marketing but isn’t sure whether she should minor in philosophy, too.
Maya thinks she should take a few more classes to see if it’s interesting before deciding.
“There’s no money in philosophy,” Deirdre advises. She flicks her hand as if shooing away the idea.
“There’s nothing wrong with Ava taking the time to explore her options,” Maya says. Her voice is even, if not a little strained. “She has time before she has to declare her major.”
At Maya’s urging, Ava made an appointment with a guidance counselor to discuss the possibilities.
The counselor’s helping her choose some elective courses that may better help her decide.
Not that Deirdre would know this. Even I’m already caught up on the details, yet I’ve known Ava for less than twenty-four hours.
Deirdre gives her eldest daughter a blank stare for a beat too long before her lips curl into an imitation of an amused smile. “What’s the saying, again? Mother knows best?”
The hair on the back of my neck rises, along with the rage simmering inside me.
As if she can sense it, Maya grips my thigh in a silent message to keep my mouth shut and takes a gulp of her wine.
I have no idea how I’ll make it through an entire dinner.
I’ve heard enough about the woman across from me to know this behavior isn’t new, but that doesn’t lessen the anger I have toward her.
A person who doesn’t care enough to see how amazing her kids are?
Who doesn’t see how amazing Maya is? Who treats her as if she isn’t the best goddamn thing in the world? She holds no esteem in my eyes.
The tension breaks as Elliott saunters up to the table. Thank the Lord. He shoots Maya a questioning glance but doesn’t comment on the terse silence. “Hey, Mom.”
Deirdre makes a big deal out of hugging her son, acting as if the reason they haven’t seen each other has nothing to do with her gallivanting around the world, all but ignoring her children.
When Elliott slides into the open seat between Keith and me, I breathe a sigh of relief.
I’m sure Keith’s a fine guy, but the last thing I want is to spend all night answering his questions about the Bobcats’ defense.
There’s a time and place for that, and dinner with my girlfriend’s mother is neither of those.
If Maya thought my family dinner would even remotely resemble this, it’s no wonder she was hesitant to come. Rather than reminisce about childhood memories or share inside jokes, the conversation is stilted and cold.
We make it through the main course without incident, but when Elliott asks the question Maya’s been wondering all night, I have a feeling all bets are off.
“So, Mom,” he says, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “what brings you to town?”
Deirdre gingerly sets her fork on her plate. “I need a reason? I can’t just visit my kids?”
Maya raises a brow. “You can, but you definitely don’t.”
“Must you always have an attitude, Maya?” Deirdre slumps back in her seat and looks at Keith, lips turned down, as if this proves some sort of point. “I swear her goal in life is to give me grief.”
Maya glares at her wineglass as if the alcohol is to blame for this.
Not wanting things to escalate, I turn toward Keith. “What do you do for work?”
Beside me, Elliott subtly nods, as if he’s impressed with my ability to pivot. Being Logan’s teammate has taught me how to skillfully de-escalate almost any disagreement.
“I’m a travel photographer,” he replies with a small smile. “I was just on assignment with National Geographic in South Africa, actually. It was breathtaking.”
I cringe internally. Now I feel bad that I assumed he owned a gym or something.
“Wow. That’s impressive,” I note. “I’m sure you’ve been to a lot of cool places, then.”
With a chuckle, he sets his napkin on the table. “Jordan, Cambodia, Singapore, London. It’s incredible, but it gets a bit lonely. That’s why I feel very lucky to have met this lovely lady to share my travels with.”
Deirdre lowers her head, blushing at the compliment. If I didn’t dislike her, it’d be sweet.
“Do you do shows or display your work at galleries?”
“We’re headed to one in Seaport after dinner tonight,” he announces. “Sorry, I thought Deirdre mentioned it. You’re all more than welcome to come, of course.”
My gut twists painfully, and I can almost feel Maya’s fury growing.