Page 107 of Fire

No need to give my mom a heart attack.

“Karydopita, huh? No baklava? That’s always a personal favorite of mine.”

My mom’s eyes go all big and round when he correctly pronounces the name of the traditional Greek walnut cake she loves to make. Damn, Asher is good, and she’s so smitten. “Next time, I’m sure,” I tell him, resting my head on Hen’s shoulder. He kisses the top of my head.

My mom shakes her head. “Too much work,” she admits with a nervous laugh and a wave of her hand. “I’m too old. If we want baklava, we get it from a nice restaurant in the city.”

I can tell we’re getting off topic, and he wants to get to the point of whatever this is when he suddenly says, “So…what’s up?”

“Right. Yeah.” Asher seems a bit caught off guard, and his next words come out stilted, almost as if he’s reading from a script or rehearsing something. “I was reviewing the list of VIP tickets tonight with the staff…” I highly doubt this is something he actually does. Although after the incident with Tanner, maybe it is. “And it reminded me how disappointed I was when I discovered I wouldn’t get the privilege to meet Zara’s mother. I wanted to see if I could persuade Mrs. Valentine to join us at the concert tomorrow.”

Wow, he’s laying it on thick. I seriously want to know what Hendrix promised him to get him to do this. It has to be something equally embarrassing, right? Because Asher isn’t the type of guy who exactly needs anything.

If it is, I so want to be there when he comes to collect.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Hendrix replies. “She was pretty adamant about not going. Maybe you could convince her?”

And then he hands her the phone, and my mom is staring wide-eyed at Asher Knight.

“Hello, Mrs. Valentine,” he says in that sexy Scottish accent of his.

She keeps staring. It’s like watching one of those dog videos on TikTok where the caption is “No thoughts, just vibes.” That is my mom right now.

Asher seems accustomed to this kind of reaction because he just rolls with it and keeps talking. “I was hoping I could convince you to come to the concert tomorrow night. I know you’ve already been offered VIP tickets, so I’m curious. What else can we do to sweeten the deal?”

“She’s worried it will be too loud,” I say, raising my voice so he can hear me.

“Right.” I hear him acknowledge. “Easy enough, that. We can give you headphones that will dampen the sound, like the crew uses. What else?”

“Ask for anything,” Hendrix whispers in my ear. “Seriously. I know you said she has reservations about getting there and is self-conscious about her appearance. I want her towantto go, not just be talked into it. She deserves to feel spoiled for a night. Don’t worry about the cost. Just get her there.”

My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I simply nod.

I open my mouth, but my dad, of all people, beats me to it. “She’ll need a way to get there. She doesn’t like driving at night.”

“Done,” Asher says. “How does a limo sound? Or perhaps something a little less flashy if that’s too?—”

“Limo!” She perks up. “I want the limo.”

We all bark out a laugh, and suddenly, my mom has found her voice and her ability to advocate for herself. “I have nothing to wear and my hair is a mess, you see?” She runs a palm through her dyed brown hair.

“I think it’s beautiful, but there’s nothing wrong with a wee bit of pampering. How about a full day at the spa? And some shopping? Zara can join, yeah?”

Well, now the tears are leaking down my cheeks, and I’m nodding. My mom and I have spent plenty of quality time together over the years, but nothing so extravagant.

Not even when I was married to Tanner and had the means to.

I was always too afraid to spend his money—because it was his. And he always made sure I knew it.

“That would be great, Ash. Thanks.”

“No need to thank me?—”

“I want a picture!” my mom interrupts. “With you. I will put it on the mantel by my harp.”

I nearly choke on my own saliva. Is this the same starstruck woman I saw just five minutes ago?

“Well, that’s a given, Mrs. Valentine.” I swear Asher’s brogue grows thicker with each syllable. God, he’s a charmer. “Can’tallow my number one fan to leave without grabbing a photo, now can we?”