Susan Mallery Page 0,18
I won’t be providing you with updates.”
“I believe I will be the first to notice if you make any progress.”
She studied him. “You still don’t think I can help.”
“I’m not sure anyone can help. My mother answers to no one. She is like a leaf on the wind—she goes where she likes.”
“I thought leaves went where the wind said.”
“You are correct. A poor analogy.” He tried to think of another, but the only thing that came to mind was how much he wanted to look at Margot’s breasts and that certainly wasn’t anything he could mention.
“Tell me a story from when you were little,” she said with a smile. “About your mother.”
The request surprised him. “What kind of story? A good story or a bad one? Are you trying to learn something specific?”
“Not really. I’m just curious and I’d like to get a feel for her. Can you give me one of each?”
He nodded. “When I turned seven, she rented out an ice-cream parlor and treated my entire class to an afternoon there. We played games and ate as much ice cream as we wanted.”
“That is a good story.”
“Yes, until all the children started throwing up because they’d had too much.”
“Oh. I suppose I can see how that would happen. And the other story?”
“When I was seventeen, she slept with my best friend.”
Alec immediately wanted to call back the words, but it was too late. They hung out there in the late afternoon, echoing in his large office. Margot’s eyes widened.
“I was away at a Swiss boarding school,” he added, realizing he had to explain. “She came to visit and took the two of us to Paris for a long weekend. I went for a walk one afternoon and when I came back, I saw him stepping out of her room.”
He remembered the sense of betrayal—that his mother would come between him and a friend. She’d always known he didn’t make friends easily and to get in the middle of that, to change it into something uncomfortable, had made him furious. And sad.
“I’m not gay,” he said. “It wasn’t that I was in love with him, but it wasn’t something she should have done.”
“No,” Margot murmured. “We’ll leave the fact that she slept with a minor for another time.” Her mouth twisted. “I’m sorry. You must have felt betrayed by both of them.”
“I did. He and I never spoke of it.” Not a word, he thought. But everything had changed. The next year Alec had gone off to University of Oxford and he and his friend had lost touch.
Until then he’d known his mother was impulsive, but he hadn’t realized how the flaw affected other people. He’d always kept fairly tight control on his emotions, but that incident had solidified his determination to let his mind dictate his actions. There would be no hasty decisions, no wild flights of fancy. It was a rule he lived by, regardless of circumstances.
Margot worried her lower lip, drawing his attention to the shape of her mouth.
“My mother abandoned my sister and me when we were little,” she said quietly. “Her mother had abandoned her the same way. The Baxter women are not known for their good choices in the men they fall for or how they raise their children.”
He appreciated her attempt to level the emotional playing field. It was a nice gesture and spoke well of her character.
“You haven’t abandoned any children.” His tone was firm.
“No, but I’ve been unwise about men.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or rather, one man.” She drew in a breath and met his gaze. “But that’s behind me now.” Her mouth turned up in an impish smile. “Because unlike you, I believe people can change.”
“It’s not people so much as my mother. Still, she wants this. She does love Wesley.”
“You sound surprised.”
“She’s never been so devoted to someone. He’s not her usual type, so perhaps that’s the reason.”
“Or he’s the one she’s been looking for all along.”
He raised his eyebrows. “A romantic, Margot? I would not have expected that.”
“Not a romantic, but I remain hopeful.”
He wondered about the man she’d been foolish with. What did that mean? Alec made it a point to never get involved with a woman. Not seriously. If he let down his barriers, if he gave his heart, well, he didn’t know what would happen, but the worry that he could turn into his mother was enough to keep him comfortably solitary. He didn’t like a lot of drama and emotion in his