Corden

"Jett, it's lovely to see you." My mother wraps me in a warm embrace despite the awkward tension lingering in the air. She knows as well as I do that the reason I'm visiting is purely business. It kills me that I had to distance myself from her and my brother, but I'm not taking any chances of another member of our family falling victim to Rafino and his dirty games. "Please, have a seat."

She chose to host me in my father's study for this meeting, and it does nothing but unnerve me and make my palms sweat against my dress pants. I'm normally good at hiding my emotions, but being around my family makes it difficult. Maybe that was her goal—payback for distancing myself after Dad died.

I shift awkwardly beneath her scrutinizing gaze on the plush emerald seat. My father's office looks like something out of a historical library. Espresso shelves line the walls littered with trinkets and some of his favorite books. My mother sits behind his mahogany desk looking regal with her sleek blonde bob and gaze sharp enough to cut glass.

"Well?" She waves her hand, growing impatient. "I'm sure you have a reason for calling me for a visit last minute." Her insult strikes like a punch to the gut, but I can't say I blame her. I don't come around unless I need something from her.

"It's about my inheritance. I want to access it early to start a business."

She tilts her head to the side, contemplating. "What sort of business?"

"Sales," I answer vaguely.

"Sales." She repeats the word slowly, calling my bullshit in a mere five seconds flat. "I'm not giving you access to your inheritance for a company that may or may not have success. Do you have a business plan?"

"Funny. I don't remember you asking Lincoln the same questions."

'Because he hired Sienna to help him. He sent over the business proposal before he went to Los Angeles. Did you think I'd grant you access without any sort of plans?"

No, I didn't think she would. I had planned on coming up with something elaborate, but a long night at The Harbor with Carmen derailed those plans. Now I need to grovel, which is my least favorite thing to do.

"I figured if your son is strapped for money you would help him out."

She throws his head back and laughs. "I make deposits to your checking account every month, Jett. You aren't destitute, so what's the real reason?"

"I can't say," I respond tightly, forming my lips in a thin line. "Can't it just be the fact that I want it? Is that not enough?"

"For five million dollars? You know your father and I set it for when you turn thirty for a reason. You aren't mature enough despite what you come up with as a rebuttal. Half the gossip magazines plaster your picture with a different woman every week."

Not recently is what I want to add, but I know it won't help my case.

"I want you to trust me when I say that I need access to that money more than anything right now. What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm mature enough to handle my inheritance? I'll do anything. I'm at your mercy, Mom."

Her eyes soften at the title, her perfectly manicured nails spinning the globe on the desk in countless circles. I hold my breath, hoping for the best, but the breath whooshes out of my lungs at her response. "I want to see you settle down."

My eyes practically bug out of my head. "Settle down?"

"Yes. Between you and your brother, there's been no progress at grandkids. You're both in your late twenties. There should be no reason you're both sleeping around like you're still college students." She folds her hands across the desk now. "Find a wife and I'll grant you access to your inheritance, but there will be conditions."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

"This woman will have to be approved by me first, which means not marrying some floozy at a club you met the night prior. Prove to me your relationship is real and I'll grant you earlier access."

Fucking hell. This is the last thing I want to hear. Mainly because trying to convince my mother I'm dating someone for real could take months. She wants me to find a wife, and it could take even years for me to persuade a woman to marry me and settle down. I might as well wait until I turn thirty. It's not like I have someone who—

Alarm bells sound off in my head. Huge caution tape wraps itself around my mind, blaring horns of warning before I find myself blurting, "And what if I already have someone?"

My mother narrows her eyes, assessing me. "Do you?"

"You haven't seen me in those gossip columns for months, right? There's a reason for that." And unfortunately, it's not a lie. I've grown attached to Carmen, but she's with someone else. She'd never agree to marry me, but if I can convince my mother...

"Does she have a name?"

"Carmen Abdullahi. She runs a successful flower shop on the Upper East Side with her best friend Riley." The truth slides off my tongue, and it should make me uneasy considering I know my mother is about to delve into research on her the minute I leave this office, but it feels...nice telling my family about her. I want to tell everyone in my life how much she consumes every fucking corner of my mind, but my brain knows how bad this could get. My mother could visit the shop. She could ask her about me. So many things could go wrong, and yet I find myself continuing like an actual idiot. "I think you'd really like her. She's smart, poised, and has more of a backbone than anyone I've ever met."

ABORT.

ABORT.

I should be covering my tracks and telling her I haven't found someone to marry, but instead, I'm walking straight in the mud to leave obvious footprints behind. I do plan on dating Carmen, but it wasn't supposed to be forever. I don't do forever. I want to have fun with her and see where things go, but maybe if I told her about my situation she'd go along with it. I could offer her a cut of my inheritance.

God, this could really screw me over. Carment isn't the type of woman to take handouts. It took a lot of fucking effort to even get her into the Red Room with me in the first place. Why would I think she'd ever agree to get engaged with me for money?

I'm an idiot.

"I'll meet her this weekend."

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot.

Her words have a ball forming in the pit of my stomach. "This weekend? Mom, give me some time to prepare for this introduction. I have to ask her if she'd be comfortable with it first, and—"

"She didn't tell you she was attending our Thanksgiving event? Sienna Stone contacted me earlier this week to have her added to the guest list. They're friends, or is that new information for you too?" A sly grin forms on her lips, knowing she's caught me in a lie. "I would have assumed you knew given you're in a relationship with her."

"I...haven't been to that function in years." It reminds me too much of my father chasing Lincoln and me around the halls while Christmas music echoed from the speakers and socialities flitted about our extravagant halls. I used to cherish the holidays. Now it only brings a perfectly wrapped gift of nothing but misery.

"But I presume you'll be there this time since your girlfriend is coming, no? Unless you'd rather me meet her by myself, then by all means, let her come to the event with her friend and leave her alone."

My mother is a smart woman. More than most give her credit for. She may love planning charity events and playing tennis at the club in her spare time, but she's meticulous and cunning when she wants to be. She's roped me into attending our family holiday party for the first time since Dad's passed. If I say no, it'll make our relationship seem like a farce. Who would leave their girlfriend to meet their significant other's parent alone?

"Fine." I give her a curt nod, my mind whirling with what the actual fuck I'm going to say to Carmen about this. I should let my mother call my bluff, but I need this money. I'm not giving up on taking down my father's murderer just yet. "I'll be there. You can add me to the guest list."

Her grin widens while she stands, drawing our meeting to a close. "Perfect. I'll see you both Saturday, then."