Angelina almost told Whitney not to be rude to Connor, but she thought about what Aly had said . . . if things worked out with Connor, Whitney’s life would be affected as well. Her son had yet to disappoint her. If anything, he was so well-behaved it often worried her.
What was the worst that could happen? If Whitney said something that offended Connor to the point that he didn’t want to be with her—then he wasn’t the man she was beginning to think he was. Whitney had the right to ask questions, to voice his concerns.
During the ride home, conversation turned to mundane topics—homework, schedules, dinner. The evening passed as uneventfully. When Whitney retired to his room, Angelina texted Connor: Are we still on for tomorrow?
Connor: Hell yes.
She smiled. What time?
Connor: How about eleven?
Angelina: Perfect. What should I wear?
Connor: Go casual. I have two options for the day. I’ll let you choose tomorrow.
Angelina: Now I’m curious.
Connor: Good. But I’m not saying a word.
Angelina: If you were here I could get you to talk.
Connor: I don’t doubt that for a second. Hey, today was incredible.
With a huge grin, Angelina sat on the couch and hugged a pillow to her stomach. Whether the warmth spreading through her was due to a chemical reaction or a burst of love, it felt too damn good to question. It sure was. She didn’t want to hold back when it came to him. I wish I could sleep in your arms tonight.
Connor: It would have to be sleep because you wore me out.
She laughed. Poor baby. You’ll recover.
Connor: Bet your ass I will. Did you get to Whitney’s school on time?
Angelina: I did.
Connor: Good. I’m looking forward to meeting him tomorrow.
About that. Angelina: I’m hopeful the two of you will get along.
Connor: We will. I have a plan.
Until recently, Angelina would have needed to know what the plan was. She would have dissected it, mentally listed every reason why it might fail, and likely had a nightmare or two about it as her subconscious visualized worst-case scenarios.
But I’m not going to torture myself like that.
I’m going to keep saying, “Everything will work out.”
The more I say it, the more I believe it.
And I really want to believe it.
Angelina: See you tomorrow at eleven.
His response was an emoji of a gorilla.
That’s good.
Right?
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, after packing the trunk of his car, Connor started the drive to Angelina’s apartment then remembered something he’d meant to do the night before. Via the phone in his car, he called Clay. Surprisingly, he picked up.
“You’re going to love what I have planned. The car should be there to pick you up in about an hour,” Clay said.
“I love you for wanting to do this, but Angelina and I are already working things out.”
“I know. I heard. Because of your lack of patience I had to change today’s itinerary. It was going to start with a helicopter ride. I’ll admit, though, filling one with white rose petals was a nice touch I didn’t consider.”
“Clay, I’m not even going to ask you how much you do or don’t know about that ride. Later we’ll discuss having healthy boundaries. Right now, you need to hear what I’m saying. I’m not home. I won’t be home until later tonight. If you send a car no one will be there for it to pick up.”
Almost without missing a beat, Clay asked, “So, where do you want it to retrieve you and Angelina?”
And people think I’m slow.
“Clay, I made my own plans for the day. I don’t need your help. I’ve got this.”
“Oh.”
“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. You’ve been wonderful to me. It’s just that—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll cancel the car.”
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“Dogs with rabies get mad. I’m not mad.”
“Angry then.”
“That would require being emotionally involved, which I’m not. My intention was to do something nice for you. If you can do this all on your own, that’s better for everyone.”
The problem with Clay was that rather than hugging him, or spanking him, his parents had raised him to believe money was the way people showed they cared. Someday Clay would see that people would love him just as much if he showed up in a Jeep with a case a beer. The private jet? The endless gifts? They were nice, but they weren’t why Connor considered him a friend. More than anything else, Clay didn’t just say he wanted to be involved—he showed up. Like when he’d bought a new wardrobe for Connor. The only reason Connor had accepted it was because Clay had been right there, picking out each item with the care of a proud parent sending his child off to school for the first time. It had been so touching Connor hadn’t been able to say no.
He didn’t like that he was disappointing Clay, but one thing Connor had learned recently was that while he still wanted to make others happy . . . he had to do it in his own way. If he and Clay were going to remain friends, Clay would need to respect that.
“I’m on my way to Angelina’s right now. I planned two separate dates. I’m going to let her choose which one she wants.”
“I don’t care one way or the other.”
Yes, he did. Otherwise they wouldn’t still be having this conversation. “If it goes the way I hope it does, I’ll call you later to tell you about it. My biggest goal for the day is to get her kid to like me. I have to tell you, meeting him is a little intimidating. This kid is smart. Brilliant. I’m not even going to pretend I know big words around him. I can’t fuck this up. I see a future with Angelina.”
“You’ll do fine.”
“I can’t badass this. That’s not who I want to be in her life. I also don’t want to be a joke to her son.”
“You won’t be.”
“I know everyone calls me a meathead. Hey, Fairy Godfather, do you have an intelligence wand you can wave? Because that’s what this Cinderfella needs. Or am I Prince Charming? See, I don’t even fucking know. I thought I had two great dates planned, but now that I’m talking it out, I don’t know if either is a good idea.”
Clay sighed. “Meathead. I wish that had been my nickname growing up. My boarding school was a cesspool of negativity. Money and ‘big words’ don’t insulate a person from ridicule. In fact, sometimes they’re a magnet for it. I don’t know what Angelina’s son is like, but I know you. You play the idiot, but you’re not one. Be yourself with Angelina’s son and you’ll be fine. I’ve never met a kid who didn’t adore you.”
“I am kind of likeable.”
“You are.”
“So are you, Clay. You’re a good friend. I have an idea. Don’t waste the date you planned for me. Take your wife on it. I bet Lexi would love that.”
Sounding much happier, Clay said, “That is a fabulous idea. I haven’t surprised her with anything in a while.”
“See. It all worked out. I’m going to let you go now because I’m almost at Angelina’s apartment, but let’s talk tomorrow.”