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.