Snap out of it, Stone!
Enough of this pity party of one.
Mom is right. I need to get my shit together and stop wallowing in what could have been. This is my life now, and it’s about time I suck it up and do something about it. New York is no longer an option. So what? I can kick ass here at Richfield, just as I have done for the past three years. I’ll get my law degree, and during that time, I’ll look for other opportunities where I can do some good. But none of this is going to happen if I’m stuck in this room reminiscing about star-filled nights and strong arms holding me tight, vowing to love me.
That was then.
This is now.
With a new resolve in place, I jump out of bed. I pick up my pillow, throwing it against the door, as a reminder to toss it in the dumpster on my way out. I’ll just go to this stupid brunch and tell Mrs. Walker that this little get together of hers is going to have to be a one-off type of thing. Finn and I are no more, so there really is no need for her civil pleasantries.
Out of sight, out of mind, right?
That’s exactly what I need to do from now on. No more Finn or anything that reminds me of him. I’m sure that my heart will forget him, too, sooner or later.
For my sanity’s sake, I hope it does.
It has to.
Chapter 27
Stone
“I’m so glad you could come,” Charlene coos, wrapping me up in her arms for an awkward hug before letting me take a seat.
“You didn’t leave me much choice,” I say overly sweet, as a way of hinting my displeasure for being here.
If she was offended by my rebuke, she has hidden it quite well with her poised smile.
“Ah, yes. I forgot how frank you are. It will make this conversation go a lot smoother,” she retorts, ordering us some mimosas from the waiter passing by.
“I figured it wasn’t just an invite to eat cucumber sandwiches.”
“Now, Stone, you’re a clever girl. You must have assumed that my invitation had an underlying agenda.”
“Yes, Ma’am. I just didn’t think you’d be so open about it,” I reply, surprised with her candor.
“What can I say? I hate beating around the bush if I can avoid it. I think we have that in common,” she beams, self-assured.
“I guess we do. So, what I can I do you for, Mrs. Walker?”
“Please, it’s Charlene,” she insists as the waiter hands us our drinks.
“Okay, Charlene. Why did you invite me to brunch today?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I need your help. My son is being quite unreasonable of late, and I need someone to persuade him to see sense.”
“And you think I can help how, exactly?” I ask, more out of curiosity than anything else.
“Oh, you’d be surprised what a loving word here, or a gentle push there, can do when it comes from the woman a man loves. Trust me, gentle persuasion goes a long way,” she singsongs, taking a sip of her spiked orange juice.
“That sounds awfully like manipulation to me,” I clip back, unimpressed with her cunning tactics.
“We women use all the talents God afforded us, in any manner possible. A girl like you, who has worked so hard all her life to achieve her goals, should know that by now.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Charlene, but I think you’ve got the wrong girl. I’m not a fan of manipulation of any kind.”
“But are you a fan of my son?” She cocks her manicured brow at me, making my lips thin at the question.
“Not at the moment, no.”
“Hmm. So the rumors are true. You have broken up. Can I ask why?” she asks, looking saddened with the idea of her son and I no longer being together.
“I’d rather keep my personal life to myself if you don’t mind. And if Finn hasn’t said anything to you by now, then I think he shares the same opinion about privacy.”
“I do see why he is so infatuated with you.” She grins yet again, her forlorn frown no longer in place. “You know, most women would take this opportunity of having an intimate brunch to win me over.”
“I guess I’m not most women.”
“No, you’re not,” she deadpans.
I suck in my teeth to prevent myself from asking just exactly what she meant with that underhanded comment, but then she surprises me with her next statement, leaving me even more baffled.
“I think you’re better. You are just the type of partner my son needs in his life.”
Feeling my cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, I take a sip of the tainted champagne. Before I know it, I drink the whole flute in an instant, without leaving even a measly drop to keep me occupied. I place the glass back on the table and look around for the waiter, anxiously waiting for a refill to get me through this heart-to-heart with Finn’s mom.
“I am curious, though, how my son pushed you away. Why did you end it?”
“What makes you think I was the one who ended it? Finn could have easily done it.”
“Stone, if we are going to have a relationship based on respect, please don’t offend my intelligence. My son would have never ended the courtship, and please, no more nonsense of keeping your personal life to yourself. I have no patience for it. Rest assured, I’ll find out one way or the other. Believe me, there isn’t a thing I don’t know if I’m so inclined to look.”
“I believe you.”
“As you should. Now out with it. What did my foolish boy do that deserved you breaking his heart for?”
“You really want to know? Fine. Your precious Finn sabotaged my opportunity to get the job of a lifetime in New York, destroying all my hopes of getting a law degree from Columbia. That’s what he did. Satisfied?” I snap at her, angry for having to list all the ways her son has wronged me.
“My Finn did that?” Her eyebrows pinch together, obviously not believing a single word.
“Yes, he did,” I repeat, rudely snapping my fingers at the waiter for that damn mimosa, hoping that liquor will get me through this conversation.
“Hmm. Tell me something, Stone, with everything you know about my son, does that seem like something he would do?” she probes further, clearly not satisfied with my reason.
“I didn’t think so, no. But I have proof he did everything that I just told you.”
“Ah, yes, proof. There’s that pesky word again. I’ve been hearing it a lot lately.” She seethes, running the pad of her finger around the rim of her flute.
Now it’s my turn for my forehead to wrinkle in confusion, so I counter, “What do you mean by that?”
“You don’t know?” she questions, surprised.
“Know what?” I demand a little too loudly, gaining the other patron’s eyes on me. I inwardly slap myself for being so reckless with my outcry, and sit quietly until their prying curiosity is focused elsewhere before I repeat, “Know what?”
“Of course you don’t know. If you are bitter with Finn for ruining your chances of moving to the big city, then it’s obvious you’d stay clear of my boy and any news pertaining to him.”