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I had to tell my mom that I’d talked to Finley. Needing a short time to process things myself made sense, but I didn’t want to wait too long. Then again, it wasn’t like there was some book on what the appropriate amount of time would be. How long should someone wait to tell their mother that they’d broken this kind of news to their biological father, who also happened to be their boyfriend’s best friend slash business partner?
It wouldn’t be a bad conversation, but it was going to be a weird one. I supposed other children who’d been conceived the same way had been part of similar talks, though I doubted the whole employment or boyfriend aspect had come into play very often.
Part of me wanted to talk to Mom face-to-face because this didn’t exactly feel like the kind of conversation one should have over the phone, but the drive to and from Staten Island was unappealing, to say the least.
If I hadn’t already told her that I’d looked for and found my biological father, I would’ve made the trip, but I knew her well enough to know that she would be okay with me calling her for this update. It was also miles better than a text.
Once I’d made the decision, I was ready to act on it, but I still had an hour left at work, and calling her from here wasn’t even an option. While I doubted Mr. Hancock or Ms. Lamas would mind, I didn’t want even the appearance of receiving special treatment, especially not now that the majority of the people here knew I was dating Nate. I’d even taken to cutting my breaks and lunch short by a few minutes so no one could claim I was late.
Not that I’d told anyone that. Nate would probably ignore any complaints. Mr. Hancock and Ms. Lamas would most likely keep an eye on me to make sure the claims weren’t true. No matter how it played out, however, if anything was even close to the line, it’d look like I was being shown favoritism.
I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if anyone found out that Finley was my father. He and Nate knew I wasn’t after money or anything like that, but it could still be blown out of proportion. The last thing Manhattan Records needed right now was scandal.
Nate hadn’t said anything, but I knew that Unraveling’s numbers were still falling. With the exception of “Fire and Light,” all of the tracks from their most recent release were bombing. People were buying the single and ignoring the rest of the album, or they were buying the album and writing reviews about how there was only one good song on it.
Not helping at all was Zed Hipwood’s arrest for drunken disorderly yesterday morning. Fortunately for us, there’d been enough bigger stories that Zed’s incident was barely covered at all. Still, it was out there, and I had a bad feeling that his antics would only increase as his popularity waned. Judging by the reviews I’d seen and the chatter I’d heard, things would only get worse.
I hadn’t talked to Nate about any of it since we were still figuring out how to talk about work without crossing any lines. It was a strange dance, but more than worth it.
That was something my mom needed to hear about too. She knew how much I cared about Nate, and she believed he cared a lot about me too, but she was wary, and I understood why. Not only did Nate and my relationship have its own complications, but Mom knew firsthand what it was like to have her heart broken, and she didn’t want that for me.
I sent out my last email and double-checked the list of things I had to do tomorrow. Only two workdays until the Golden Words release party and organization was the key to making everything go smoothly. Unlike those who were thrown when something random disrupted a schedule, I handled sudden situations more easily when everything else was planned out. Well, if I was on schedule. If I got behind…
A burst of laughter from down the hall made me look up, and I saw people closing down their computers, chatting as they gathered their things. I’d been so absorbed in what I was doing that I hadn’t seen the hour turn. I finished up what I was doing and did a last look-over to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
I would call Mom while I fixed my dinner tonight, I decided. Nate and I hadn’t made plans until the party this Saturday evening, so I wouldn’t have to worry about interruptions or rushing. Mom wouldn’t be upset about this, I knew, but I still didn’t want to make her feel like I was brushing her off with a few cursory details, especially since I’d kept Finley a secret for so long.
I made it home in record time and quickly changed out of my work clothes. Once comfortable, I headed to the kitchen. I called my mom and set the phone on the counter while I opened the fridge to see what I had to eat.
“Hey, sweetie! What’s going on?”
“Getting some dinner together and calling my mom. What about you?”
“Eating dinner and talking to my daughter.”
I smiled, the familiar banter exactly what I needed to help me arrange my thoughts about the main reason I’d called. Mom and I talked often, usually without any specific reasons, but she knew that if I needed to tell her something, I’d get to it when I was ready.
“How’s work going?” I asked. “You said something about doing some research on a ship’s manifest from the seventeenth century while you waited for some information on your Quaker project?”
“Yes, Professor Luther wants to do a special workshop over the next winter break for a handful of his grad students. It should be interesting.” She paused, then asked, “How is work going with you?”
I couldn’t have asked for a better segue. “It’s going well. The new contract and job description was a brilliant idea on Nate’s part.”
“I take that to mean he’s been behaving himself at work.” Mom sounded amused.
Heat crept up my neck. “He has.”
“Good. I’d rather not get myself into trouble vandalizing his expensive car. I assume he has an expensive car.”
I laughed. “I wonder how many other mothers would admit to considering vandalism for their child.”
“Any good mother would.” She joined in my laughter. “But a good daughter would offer an alibi.”
I put my chicken in the oven and brought up the main reason I’d called. “So, I talked to Finley.”
A beat of silence. “How did that go?”
“Really well.” I leaned against the counter. “Nate actually invited Finley over to have dinner with us at Nate’s place. A neutral place, but also a private one.”