Brody - Ellie Masters Page 0,21

last folder. My heart catches in my throat when I see Grace Atwood’s name at the top of the next equity investment proposal.

Nine

Brody

I slam the folder shut and take a few breaths. For some reason, my heart hammers in my chest, and my palms begin to sweat. I open the folder again and press my fingers over her name. I’ve made mistakes in my past, some bigger than others, but the mistake I made with Grace was an epic, colossal fuck-up.

I was cruel, heartless, and an all-around asshole. There are few things in life I’m not proud of. In general, I’m a good person: thoughtful, considerate, the man my parents hoped to raise.

With Grace, I became something else.

I need to change that, and I have one very good idea how. After jotting down a few notes, I send a message to my assistant to set up an appointment with Grace Atwood for the morning.

I don’t understand how her vineyard is so deep in the red, but with my business acumen and Asher’s expertise in running a successful winery, we can turn things around. Hawke will definitely give me side-eyes for accepting the proposal. It’s a massive risk, but I honestly don’t care.

This is personal.

Less than half an hour later, Mom texts she’s pulling up in the garage. I head down to meet her and greet her with a kiss.

“How’re you doing?”

“Fabulous. And you?” Her eyes twinkle and her smile beams.

“You going to tell me about your date, or are we going to dance around it all evening?”

My visit to Napa, specifically to see her, resulted in nothing more than lunch with Evie and Asher. Our mother turned into a major no-show. Asher and I were ready to mount a manhunt, only to be sidelined by Evie. She told us to stand down. To my amazement, that’s exactly what Asher and I did. I pried Evie for information, but she remained tight-lipped.

Mom’s keeping something from us. Not that it matters. For the next three hours, Abbie La Rouge is all mine.

“So…” I hold open the door to the parking garage and grin as she shuffles past me.

“So, what?” Her grin is flirtatious and unflappable. Mom never gives away the good stuff. We have to dig.

“So, where were you?”

“You need to be more specific.”

“I came to visit you and you weren’t there.”

“Oh, you mean this past weekend? Honey, you really need to be more specific.”

“Don’t play with me. Who is he?”

“Who is who?” She gives a little smirk.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“No. Now don’t meddle in my affairs.” Her bony finger pokes against my sternum. Abbie La Rouge is one fierce woman.

“Fine. But you can’t hide him forever.”

“I’m not hiding anyone. Do you tell me about all your conquests?”

“So you admit he’s a conquest.”

“He’s no such thing.”

“But, you just said…”

“I was talking about you. Now, sweetie, when are you going to settle down?” She reaches for my arm and settles her hand in the crook of my arm.

“I don’t want to settle down. I’m perfectly happy…”

“You’re not happy. I see it and feel it in here.” She presses her hand against her chest. “You’re spinning your wheels, wasting time on women you know don’t matter, because you’re afraid of commitment. Why is that?” The look she gives me is one of true pain. “Didn’t your dad and I teach you anything?”

“Mom…” I grit my teeth and close my eyes for a second. This is not the conversation I want to have with my mom.

“Don’t Mom me. When the right one comes along, you need to grab her by the horns and wrestle her to the ground.”

“That’s really not how it works.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Women want to know the man they’re with is worthy of their love. They need to feel sheltered, protected, loved…”

“You mean suffocated and oppressed? Sorry, but those are antiquated notions.”

“Those antiquated notions are precisely why you spin a new girl through your bed every night.”

“We are not discussing my love life.”

“You’re right, because there’s no ‘love’ to discuss. You fuck women to soothe this emptiness within you. When are you going to get your head out of your ass and figure shit out?” Mom only swears when she’s making a point.

“I’m totally not having this conversation with my mother.”

“You most certainly are. I read the press. Skim the articles. I keep up with all of you.”

“Then focus that shit on Asher or Cage. I’m doing just fine over here.”

“Don’t lie to your Mamma.”

“Mamma?”