Read Online The Billionaire's Heart (The Silver Cross Club Book 4) by Bec Linder - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bec Linder
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it my skin color? Are you racially profiling me?”
“Children,” my dad called from the kitchen.
“Okay, I’m done,” I said. “Sorry. For real, though. How’s the new semester?”
Devin sighed. “Tiring. It’s like they forgot everything over Christmas break. Logarithms, subtraction, basic hygiene…”
“One day you’ll give in and get a cushy job at a private school in Forest Hills,” I said.
I heard a noise at the front door, and then my mother’s voice calling, “Where are my little babies?”
“Quick, finish the wine,” Devin said, and I chugged my glass, trying not to laugh or choke, while he called out, “We’re in the dining room, Ma.”
She came in, still wearing her scrubs and looking worn out. I set my glass on the table—only half-empty, despite my best efforts—and stood up to give her a hug. “Hi, Mom. How was your day? Do you want some wine?”
“That’s the Devil’s drink,” she said sternly, and then, “Pour me a glass.”
Devin laughed and emptied the bottle.
Dinner was pork roast, greens, and fluffy yeast rolls. I set to work stuffing my face while my mother told a story about one of her patients who had gotten fed up with the hospital food. When we all finally stopped laughing, she turned to Devin and said, “Have you met a nice girl yet?”
Devin and I exchanged a meaningful look. She asked this question every week. Devin was gay, and had been out to my parents for a solid decade now, but my mother was still in denial about it. “No, Ma,” Devin said gently. “I’m still with Mohammed. You met him at the barbeque, remember?”
“He’s a very nice young man,” my father said. He wasn’t totally on board with the gay thing either, but he’d accepted that it wasn’t going to change, and I thought his awkward attempts to show support were very sweet. Parents were adorable.
My mother sniffed. I wasn’t sure if she disapproved of Mohammed more because he was a man or because he was Muslim.
Then Devin got a wicked look on his face and said, “You should ask Sadie about her new boss. Sounds like she’s crushing hard.”
I kicked him under the table, and he yelped, but it was too late. My mom turned to me with a gleam in her eyes that said, GRANDCHILDREN!
“ No ,” I said. “He’s my boss. I like him, but not like that . Nothing is going to happen. Stop looking at me like that, Ma.”
“I just think it’s time for you to start dating again,” she said. “It’s been a year, sugar.”
“Cheryl, leave her alone,” my father said.
“We’ve been leaving her alone,” my mother said. “I know you agree with me, Kevin. It’s not good for a person to be sad for so long. I know you loved him, Sadie, but that boy told me he wanted you to move on with your life. And you aren’t moving at all, sugar. You’re going nowhere.”
I sat there, stunned, feeling a tight, achy heat gather behind my eyes. This was not at all what I had expected from the evening.
I was not going to start crying at the dinner table.
“Excuse me,” I said tightly, and stood up and headed for the door.
“Let her go,” I heard my father say.
I should have just gone home.
NINE
Elliott
I didn’t take the weekend off, but I went home before midnight on Friday, and on Saturday morning I slept in and didn’t make it to the office until after lunch.
I hoped Sadie would approve.
She was infuriating, and she amused the hell out of me. I still wasn’t sure that hiring her had been a good idea—she was a deadly distraction, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted—but fantasizing about taking her to bed made a nice change from worrying about my finances and my father’s inevitable meddling.
He knew I was back in New York, and probably knew what I was up to, but I hadn’t spoken to him since our brief conversation in August, when I called him from the embassy in Kampala and learned that he was cutting me off. That was what had sparked my
“Children,” my dad called from the kitchen.
“Okay, I’m done,” I said. “Sorry. For real, though. How’s the new semester?”
Devin sighed. “Tiring. It’s like they forgot everything over Christmas break. Logarithms, subtraction, basic hygiene…”
“One day you’ll give in and get a cushy job at a private school in Forest Hills,” I said.
I heard a noise at the front door, and then my mother’s voice calling, “Where are my little babies?”
“Quick, finish the wine,” Devin said, and I chugged my glass, trying not to laugh or choke, while he called out, “We’re in the dining room, Ma.”
She came in, still wearing her scrubs and looking worn out. I set my glass on the table—only half-empty, despite my best efforts—and stood up to give her a hug. “Hi, Mom. How was your day? Do you want some wine?”
“That’s the Devil’s drink,” she said sternly, and then, “Pour me a glass.”
Devin laughed and emptied the bottle.
Dinner was pork roast, greens, and fluffy yeast rolls. I set to work stuffing my face while my mother told a story about one of her patients who had gotten fed up with the hospital food. When we all finally stopped laughing, she turned to Devin and said, “Have you met a nice girl yet?”
Devin and I exchanged a meaningful look. She asked this question every week. Devin was gay, and had been out to my parents for a solid decade now, but my mother was still in denial about it. “No, Ma,” Devin said gently. “I’m still with Mohammed. You met him at the barbeque, remember?”
“He’s a very nice young man,” my father said. He wasn’t totally on board with the gay thing either, but he’d accepted that it wasn’t going to change, and I thought his awkward attempts to show support were very sweet. Parents were adorable.
My mother sniffed. I wasn’t sure if she disapproved of Mohammed more because he was a man or because he was Muslim.
Then Devin got a wicked look on his face and said, “You should ask Sadie about her new boss. Sounds like she’s crushing hard.”
I kicked him under the table, and he yelped, but it was too late. My mom turned to me with a gleam in her eyes that said, GRANDCHILDREN!
“ No ,” I said. “He’s my boss. I like him, but not like that . Nothing is going to happen. Stop looking at me like that, Ma.”
“I just think it’s time for you to start dating again,” she said. “It’s been a year, sugar.”
“Cheryl, leave her alone,” my father said.
“We’ve been leaving her alone,” my mother said. “I know you agree with me, Kevin. It’s not good for a person to be sad for so long. I know you loved him, Sadie, but that boy told me he wanted you to move on with your life. And you aren’t moving at all, sugar. You’re going nowhere.”
I sat there, stunned, feeling a tight, achy heat gather behind my eyes. This was not at all what I had expected from the evening.
I was not going to start crying at the dinner table.
“Excuse me,” I said tightly, and stood up and headed for the door.
“Let her go,” I heard my father say.
I should have just gone home.
NINE
Elliott
I didn’t take the weekend off, but I went home before midnight on Friday, and on Saturday morning I slept in and didn’t make it to the office until after lunch.
I hoped Sadie would approve.
She was infuriating, and she amused the hell out of me. I still wasn’t sure that hiring her had been a good idea—she was a deadly distraction, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted—but fantasizing about taking her to bed made a nice change from worrying about my finances and my father’s inevitable meddling.
He knew I was back in New York, and probably knew what I was up to, but I hadn’t spoken to him since our brief conversation in August, when I called him from the embassy in Kampala and learned that he was cutting me off. That was what had sparked my
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