were there now. The feel of her, of being inside her, was intoxicating.
But Grace was at her office. We had another Marriage in a Minute event that evening, and she had work to catch up on.
I should do the same. I wanted to refine my investment models for my incoming inheritance. I was not going to have it sit around. I needed it to immediately start working for me.
“Should I keep twenty-five percent in renewable energy, or should I do thirty-five percent?” I mused as I punched in my front door access code.
“Stranger danger! Stranger danger!” the parrot screeched when I walked in.
“I live here,” I reminded the bird.
“Stranger!”
“Good bird,” I told him, going to the kitchen and chucking out a few pieces of granola for him on a plate. I scratched the feathers on his neck.
“Maybe thirty-five,” I decided as I headed to my study.
“Darling! My sweet baby boy!”
“Mom,” I said, startled. She wrapped her arms around me, the hard silicone of her breast implants digging into my ribs.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon!” she said, wavering slightly in her heels. She took a sip of the glass in her hand. “We should—” Hiccup! “We should go for tapas.”
“Mom, why are you in my penthouse?” I asked, trying not to lose it. I didn’t want to deal with her hysterical crying.
But my mom had already started to tear up.
“You’re not happy to see me?” Her mouth wobbled.
“Please go back to your hotel.”
“I don’t have any more money left to pay for it!” she complained.
“I just gave you thirty thousand dollars three days ago!” I exclaimed.
My mother started the heaving sobs that would always make me wince and feel extremely guilty.
“I can’t believe,” she cried, “that after everything I’ve sacrificed, my only son, my only child, doesn’t even want to spend time with me.”
“That’s not—” I blew out an irritated breath.
“Why don’t you love me?” she wailed. “Am I a terrible mother? What did I do wrong?”
I don’t know, neglecting me, fostering an adversarial relationship with my father, looking out exclusively for your own interests, using me as an ATM…
But I bit my tongue.
“I’m not giving you any more money.”
“That’s okay,” she said, dabbing her eyes. “I’ve had all my things delivered here.”
“Stranger danger!” the parrot screeched, flapping over to us.
“Yeah, I see now,” I told him.
“I’m not a stranger,” my mom insisted. “But you always treat me like one.”
“Mom, you cannot live here.”
“I’m homeless!”
“Get out!” the parrot screeched.
“Do something about that animal!” she yelled.
“He was here before you,” I reminded her.
Because apparently I am running the world’s worst bed-and-breakfast.
“Look, Mom,” I said. “You can stay here for a few days until you find a room to sublet.”
“You’re going to make me sublet?” she screeched. “How will it look if I go to the papers and tell everyone that my own son, who has more money than he knows what to do with, is abandoning his own mother?”
Fuck.
“Fine,” I snarled, “you can live here.”
She wrapped her arms around me. “My precious baby!”
Ding dong!
“The inn is closed!” the parrot squawked, hopping over to the front door.
I disentangled my mother to go answer it.
“Why do you still have that hussy and her menagerie here?” my father demanded when I opened the door.
“Hi, Dad. It’s great to see you,” I deadpanned as the parrot threw a fit at my feet. He attacked my father’s shoes, gnawing at the imported Italian leather.
“Stranger danger!”
“I’m concerned about your mental health, boy,” my father boomed, pushing past me into the apartment, dragging several suitcases behind him.
“Are you going on a trip?” I asked.
“I’ve fallen into a bad spot,” he said, setting the suitcases and his laptop bag in front of me. “Go put those in one of the spare bedrooms. I’ll be staying here for a while.”
He headed for the wet bar to make himself a drink then cursed when he saw my mother sprawled on the couch.
“Get out!” my mom screamed, hurling one of her designer shoes at my father.
“Why is that harpy here?” my father demanded, turning to me. “Throw her out!”
“She doesn’t have anywhere to stay,” I explained.
“I will not stay here with her,” my father said, incensed, as my mom took off her other shoe.
“Then stay somewhere else,” I snapped.
“I will not,” my father thundered. “That bitch bled me dry for decades. You cost me millions, boy, and now I’m in a bad spot. I lost my safety net. You need to pay me back for everything I’ve done for you. If