Billionaire Boss (28 page)

A
SHLEY

I
slept terribly
, waking ever hour or so, likely because of my nerves. My mother and I haven’t had too many disagreements, and this is a big one.

After my father left, she and I became much closer and she spoke to me like her friend as well as her daughter. She can be opinionated and stubborn, but she has always supported me. Even at times when she didn’t agree with what I was doing, she still encouraged me.

This situation is completely different, though. Mom thinks she is looking out for my best interests, but she’s not looking at the whole picture. She’s also projecting all the hurt and fear from her own failed marriage onto my relationship. I hope there is a way to make her see that Jayson and my father are not the same.

I take my time getting out of bed and after a horrible night’s sleep, I decide to brew some coffee before anything else. I hang around the kitchen, sipping from my mug and flipping through a magazine. I don’t bother checking if I have any messages, because I don’t feel like dealing with anyone this morning, anyway.

When I’m finished I make my way to the bathroom for a nice long shower. I dress and put on some makeup. I second-guess the mascara, knowing there might be some tears, but I apply it anyway. I want to look and feel my best when I see my mother.

After I finish I go to check my messages. There is only one from Jayson, asking what time I plan on getting there. I’m ready now, but I don’t know if he’s at work today or just home waiting for us, so I reply to his text.

What time would you like me there?

I’m on my way back there now from my office. I can pick you up,
he offers.

Perfect. How long?

Be there in twenty.

K. See you then.

I put on some jewelry and collect my things so I can leave. I lock the door on the way out and go down to the lobby to wait for Jayson.

Just about twenty minutes after his text, I notice a black town car pulling up and smile. Only one day has passed since we’ve seen each other, but it feels like so much longer. The car stops at my entrance and Jayson steps out of the back.

As usual. he looks amazing. Today he’s wearing gray slacks and a white button-down top. It’s similar to his usual outfit, but more official-looking for the office, I suppose. His hair is perfectly groomed and his eyes are shaded by dark sunglasses. A huge smile crosses his lips when he sees me on the sidewalk.

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Hello, handsome,” I reply, stepping toward him. He reaches out a hand and takes one of mine, pulling me closer to him. He gives me a soft kiss.

“I missed you,” he says.

I smile. “I missed you, too.”

Jayson holds the door open and I get into the back of the car. He follows behind me and the car starts making its way toward his building.

“So, are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes. And no. I don’t know,” I sigh.

“Well, it doesn’t matter much, because it’s happening whether you’re ready or not.”

“True. I’m ready. I just don’t want to fight. I wish my mother wasn’t making such a big deal out of everything.”

“Me too, but she is. Don’t worry, we’ll all be best friends by the time lunch is over,” he assures me with a smile.

“We’ll see,” I mutter in reply.

“Come on, Ashley. Just think positive,” Jayson says as we pull up to his building.

We get out of the car and walk through the lobby. Seconds after we enter Jayson’s apartment, the intercom rings. Fortunately, it’s just the lunch delivery. I’m not ready for Tom and my mother yet.

Jayson lets the two delivery guys from the gourmet sandwich shop down the block inside. They don’t just leave the food—they set up a small buffet on the kitchen island counter. Much different than the kind of food deliveries I’m used to.

“Wow, fancy,” I comment after they leave.

“Only the best for the best,” Jayson replies. “How about a little wine before the parents arrive?” Now that’s an offer I’ll happily accept.

He removes a bottle of white wine from the wine cooler under the counter. He pours each of us a glass and raises his to toast.

“Here’s to a bright future and a happy future stepmother and mother-in-law,” Jayson jokes.

“Ha. Ha. Can you not refer to her as that from now on? And who says she’s going to be your mother-in-law, anyway?”

“She will be. You’re mine, remember? You have no choice now,” he teases me. I laugh in response.

“You’re crazy,” I reply.

The intercom rings again and I know this time it has to be my mother and Tom. Jayson answers, and when he hangs up, he walks back over to me. He holds my chin in his hand and tilts my head up so we are looking into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t worry. We got this,” he says quietly.

Jayson kisses me on the lips for assurance. Even though it’s just a short kiss, it feels soft and sweet and full of love. He backs up and holds his palm up, waiting for a high-five.

“Let’s do this!” he says, switching gears to lighten the mood and making me laugh again.

I high-five him and he walks to the door to open it for our awaiting guests. I hear the
ding
of the elevator and the sound of Mom and Tom coming out of the elevator toward Jayson’s apartment. This is it.

“Hey, Dad! Hello, Cynthia,” Jayson greets them. He shakes his father’s hand and gives my mother a hug as they come in the door.

I’m a few feet behind Jayson. I put on my best smile and greet them next.

“Hi, Tom. Hey, Mom,” I say, giving each of them a hug.

“You look so pretty, Ashley,” my mother says after taking a step back.

“Thanks,” I reply. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.

We all find our way to the kitchen island. Jayson pours another two glasses of wine and hands them to Tom and Cynthia. We are awkwardly standing around, trying to get comfortable with each other. We all know why we are here, but I don’t think anyone wants to dive into a serious discussion.

Jayson takes a seat on a stool and helps himself to cheese and crackers. We all follow suit, picking on a couple of the appetizers from the small spread.

We make some small talk and try to ease the tension. It seems to work as we are all comfortably talking to each other about anything other than the topic at hand. Then Tom decides it’s time to get down to business.

“Well, I don’t know where to start, but let’s get this over with so we can sit down and eat some lunch. It looks delicious.”

“Way to be subtle, Dad,” Jayson says with a chuckle.

“You should know how I operate by now,” Tom replies. “As we’re obviously all aware, I’ve asked Cynthia to be my bride. And for some crazy reason, she said yes,” he continues, looking at my mother with reverence. “We don’t want to begin our new life together with any unnecessary strain or hard feelings. So I would like everyone to just lay it all out on the table. Let’s just say whatever it is that is on our minds so we can address it and move on.”

Jayson takes a sip of his drink and replies first. “I don’t think there’s too much to say. Ashley and I are dating. We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. It’s an unfortunate coincidence that our parents are marrying each other, but we’re adults and it really shouldn’t make a difference.”

“It is an unfortunate coincidence,” my mother replies. “I don’t think dating someone that you will be considered related to is appropriate.”

“I don’t think it matters. We are adults, not children. We also won’t all be living together under one roof. It’s not like we grew up together, or anything. The fact that you and my father will be married is only a technicality,” Jayson retorts and sips his wine again.

“It’s just not right. Would I call you my stepson, or my daughter’s boyfriend? Or God forbid, both?” she says sarcastically.

“Really, Mom? Why does it matter? Call him whatever you want. What’s the difference?” I chime in.

“It just doesn’t make sense. How many people do you know who date their relatives?” she answers.

“He’s not my relative!” I hiss. “So he’ll be my stepbrother. So what? All you care about is what other people think. You don’t even have a real reason.”

“I will always support you, Cynthia, but I have to agree on this point. They’re grown and can make their own choices. Our relationship shouldn’t and doesn’t make a difference in theirs,” Tom agrees. I silently cheer.

“I’m not going to fight about it, Tom. Maybe it’s just my own opinion or insecurities about what people think, but I can’t help how I feel,” my mom concedes. “If it weren’t for the age difference or Jayson’s…” She pauses, trying to think of the least offensive word. “…
past,
it wouldn’t concern me so much. But adding those to the equation, I just see disaster in the future. For all of us.”

“I can’t help my age,” Jayson replies calmly. “Maybe I’m immature, maybe Ashley is more mature, I don’t know. I wasn’t looking for some young girl to manipulate. We’re just attracted to each other.”

My mother snorts. “What could you possibly have in common with a college girl? You’ve been out of college for years. You’re a grown man with a career and a future. You’re an adult. Ashley still doesn’t have a major and her father pays her rent.”

“I don’t care what she studies or that she can’t afford an apartment in Manhattan yet,” Jayson bites back. “Ashley is beautiful. She’s also interesting, intelligent, and funny. She makes me smile and we enjoy each other’s company. I care for her very deeply.” He’s staring at me. “Why should anything else matter?”

“How many women have you said cared for in the past? How many have you led on just to drop for the next one that comes along? How long can a
girl
hold your interest?” Mom snaps back.

“My past is exactly that—my past.” Jayson says more sternly. “It has no effect on my feelings for Ashley. I’ve never cared for a woman the way I care for her, nor have I pretended I did.”

“Cynthia, my son may be many things. but he has never been dishonest. I know he may not have the best reputation, but he’s a man who stands by his word. I don’t believe he would lie about his feelings or do something that he knows would jeopardize our happiness.” Tom says. I see my mother’s face soften slightly.

“My age doesn’t make a difference. You were my age when you married Dad! Jayson and I care for each other. and I’m happy. Isn’t that all that should matter?” I ask my mother.

“Yes, you’re the same age as when I married your father,” she says, “and look how well that turned out. What makes you think Jayson will be any different? You’re going to get older and he’s going to want a replacement. Just like your father.”

“Don’t compare him to Dad!” I yell. “Even if he is like my father, you loved him once, for many years. He wasn’t always the terrible person you make him out to be.” I stand up. I’m too wound up to sit down anymore. Jayson gets up and stands behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders. I see tears well in my mother’s eyes.

“I just don’t believe that a womanizer like that is going to change his ways. He will get bored and find someone else. Then where will you be? I’ll tell you—you will be hurt, and sad. I will wind up with hard feelings toward Jayson and Tom and I will be arguing about our children over something we could have put a stop to before it got to that point. All of us will be hurt.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Jayson replies in a loud but calm voice. “I am not your ex-husband. I can’t predict the future, but I know in my heart I will never hurt Ashley. I have never felt this way about another woman, ever. I love her.”

I look at him in shock. I feel like I’m going to cry now. Not only has Jayson told me he loves me, but he said it in front of my mother and Tom. Jayson brushes the hair away from my face and puts his hands on my shoulders.

“I love you, Ashley. I really do. I wish I could have told you under different circumstances,” he says softly.

“I love you too, Jayson.” I reply. We continue to look at each other for a few moments and then snap back into reality. My mother has tears streaming down her face as she watches us.

“I waited so long for my second chance at love,” my mother starts. “I realize now how selfish I have been. I’m sorry, Ashley. Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember you’re a woman. I can’t treat you like a child anymore. I have to let you live your life and make your own choices. I can see now that Jayson truly cares for you and I can’t stand in the way of that.”

Mom gets up from her seat and hugs me. “I’m so sorry. I love you,” she quietly tells me while we embrace.

“I love you too, Mom,” I reply. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

“Thank you for listening with an open ear, Cynthia,” Jayson says, giving my mother a hug. “I’m glad we got everything out in the open and squared away. I meant every word I said.”

“Now that we all love each other, can we eat lunch?” Tom interrupts.

“I see where you get your sense of humor now.” I whisper to Jayson, smiling.

We each make a plate and sit at the table. Everyone is talking and laughing like nothing was ever wrong. I’m reminded of the first night we all got together at my mother’s house and I smile. Jayson was right—everything is going to be okay.

O
NE YEAR LATER

T
he weather is
perfect and the backyard looks beautiful. Of all the parties my mother has hosted at her home, this one is by far the most amazing.

The florist has decorated a trellis with flowers and laid a roll of white fabric out to look like an aisle. There are white chairs set up on either side facing the archway and the bay beyond it. The handful of people that were invited are all seated patiently and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Tom and the minister stand in front waiting, flanked by Jayson and Matt on one side and me on the other. I see Eric and Mom begin to make their way down the aisle. She looks stunning and glowing with happiness. I glance at Tom and he is beaming. There is so much love between the two of them. Everyone here can see it.

As my mother approaches Tom, he gives her his elbow and she releases Eric with a kiss and takes Tom’s arm. As the minister begins his speech about love, Jayson and I look at each other and smile. Since moving in together and sharing our lives and our home, we know it will be our turn next, and I can’t wait.

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