Page 31 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

The kitchen was bright, full of sunshine, but it was the chocolate chip cookies cooling on a rack that drew my attention. “What is all this for? Don’t tell me you baked them for me.”

She was already in the refrigerator, meaning she had to crane her neck to see around the open door. “Oh, I have my book club later on. Everybody always asks me to make them.”

“If they’re half as good as they used to be, I can imagine why.”

“You should try one and let me know.” She was grinning as she closed the refrigerator with her hip, carrying packages of cold cuts and a bottle of mustard. “Ham and cheese on rye?”

“You remembered.”

“Some things you don’t forget.” She got to work on the sandwich while I took a seat at the small, oval table under a window whose flower boxes were a riot of color on the other side.

“You’re still gardening,” I observed, a little awkward. Small talk was never my thing.

“What’s that? Oh, sure, one of the few things they’ll let us have here.

” When I arched an eyebrow, she explained, “You know how it is. There are regulations. Houses can only be a certain color, you can only plant certain things. My knees aren’t what they used to be, anyway, so the window boxes are my compromise. ”

“Are you happy here?” I asked. Had I ever bothered asking? I couldn’t remember, which was an answer in itself.

She slowed the act of spreading mustard over a slice of bread, stopping before she turned to look at me. “In the beautiful home my son pays for? Do you know how many people would kill to be in my position?”

“That’s not really an answer, is it?”

“My son, always with the comebacks.” Familiar lines bracketed her mouth when she smiled.

“I’m very happy. I have friends. We go on day trips to the casinos, outlet malls, and restaurants.

Anything I want is right there at my fingertips.

And, of course, my church is just up the road,” she concluded with a satisfied smile, capping the mustard.

“I’m glad. You know how important that is to me, don’t you? Really,” I insisted when she gently laughed like she didn’t believe I was serious. “It means everything to me that you’re taken care of. That you’re happy. You sacrificed so much.”

“I don’t remember many sacrifices.” After cutting the sandwich in half and adding a pickle spear, she brought the plate over to me. “Something to drink? I don’t keep chocolate milk in the fridge anymore, but I can find something.”

“This is just fine.” I wasn’t hungry but picked up half the sandwich anyway and took a bite. There wasn’t a restaurant in the world capable of doing a better job. “How does food taste better here than it does anywhere else?”

“A mother’s touch.” She sat across from me beneath a large cross mounted on the wall.

They seemed to be a theme around here. Even the napkin holder had tiny crosses painted across its ceramic surface.

“Tell me. What brings you here? And don’t tell me this is only a friendly visit because the mother knows certain things about her child. You don’t do casual visits.”

“I’ve been busy. Very busy.“ Her penetrating stare wasn’t going anywhere, boring holes through me as I chewed a mouthful of ham and Swiss. “Everything is happening all at once. Problems here, issues there. Normally, life flows pretty smoothly.”

“So you came out for a hug from your mother?” Her lips twitched in a gentle smile, full of warmth and maybe a touch of sarcasm. That I didn’t recognize. She wasn’t normally like that.

“I’m sensing a vibe here.” Now that I had started eating, my appetite had woken up, so I took a bite from the pickle and crunched it while observing her. What was she hiding? There was something going on, and I hated being the last to know.

“A vibe?” She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “I will never understand the lingo nowadays.”

“You are not that old, for one thing.“

“Anyway, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted in a light voice that normally meant trouble. “There is no vibe.”

When I wouldn’t buy her bullshit, she sighed.

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what has blown up in your life to bring you here.

In the past ten years, I can count two unexpected visits.

The first was to tell me you were moving away after graduation rather than coming back home.

And now, this.” She eyed the plate in front of me, adding, “I think I made you a sandwich that day too.”

Was that true? Did it matter? “I only come to you when I have a problem?”

“Can you tell me another time you visited, except for a few planned lunches and dinners over the years? And, of course, you checked this place out before I moved in to make sure everything was up to your standards.” Her smile lost its humorous edge and solidified into something genuine.

“Thank you for that. The stories I hear around here make me very, very grateful to have a son as devoted as you are.”

If there was one thing I sucked at, it was taking credit I didn’t deserve. “Come on, Mom,” I muttered, taking another bite of the sandwich when my guilt was too much. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick. I do everything I can, but I know it’s not enough.”

“Who said that? I didn’t say that. I never would.” She made a point to hold my gaze. “Now tell your mother. What’s bothering you?”

If only it were that simple. What I wouldn’t give to be that twenty-two-year-old kid again, knowing he broke his girlfriend‘s heart, telling himself it was for the best. Out of all the decisions I’d made, it was the only one I would change if I could.

“I’ve been lying to you.” If I couldn’t go back and change the past, I could at least stop making the same bullshit mistakes. “I have a house here in Vegas now. I’ve moved back, at least part-time. I’ve been here for months, opening a new location for my business. “

“Well, that is great news! I’ll have you in town again!

” She patted my hand, beaming. There was a time when those hands were calloused, rough from the hard work of cleaning up after slobs for the sake of keeping a roof over our heads.

Scrubbing toilets late into the night, all so we could afford life in a better school district.

“I guess that means things are going well at this new location? If you bought a house, I mean.”

“Oh absolutely. Very well.” Time to stop being a fucking hypocrite. “We’ve never talked about what I actually do, have we? I’ve always avoided it.”

“You have.” She nodded slowly. Would it kill the woman to give me a clue what was going through her head? Her blank expression made my skin crawl with apprehension.

“There’s a reason for that. I was worried… that is, I thought you might…” Why was this so hard?

“You thought I might what? Out with it.” If only it were that easy. All I could do was sputter and curse myself before she took pity on me. Her hand closed over mine, squeezing hard, then letting go. “You think I don’t know? Really?”

“I know this trick,” I grumbled. “You pull this psychology thing on me where I gasp and ask how you knew about that specific thing, but you never knew. You were only trying to draw it out of me.”

“I did pull that one lot, didn’t I?” She looked proud of herself but shook her head. “Not this time. I won’t pretend I’m thrilled with the way you make your money, but I’ve learned to live with it. So long as you never invite me to visit one of your… er… establishments, I’m sure we will be fine.”

The world as I knew it was crumbling around me, and she sat there smiling. Proud of herself, even. When I found my voice, I asked, “How could you possibly know?”

“Do you think just because I’m a certain age, I don’t know anything about the world?

” When I continued gaping at her in stunned silence, she chuckled.

“I won’t name names, but a couple of the younger men around here went on a trip to Los Angeles a couple of years ago.

They’re adventurous, you could say. When they got back, one of them had the nerve to ask if I approved of my son running… ”

“Don’t say it, Mom, please.” There were only so many things I could handle hearing come out of her mouth in the course of a single afternoon. “How could you know and never say anything?”

Standing, she took my plate. “I’ve prayed about it. A lot. You know what I realized?”

“What?”

“There are worse ways to make a living. And if you’re spending it to take care of me in my later years, it’s going to a worthy cause.

" Of course, I didn’t believe her, and she knew it.

She turned her head and winked. “We don’t get to decide the packaging God’s blessings arrive in.

What matters is you’re a good man with a good heart. ”

I had a hard time agreeing with that. “I don’t know, Mom. It’s been a long time since we were close.”

“A mother knows, and this mother knows you have a bad habit of getting in your own way. You kept your work a secret from me because you assumed how I’d react.

” She gave me a wink, discreetly leaving a couple of cookies in front of me before going to the sink to fill her tea kettle.

“Get out of your own way, son. You can’t receive all of the blessings you deserve if you’re always standing in the way of them. ”

“Is there anything else you’re dying to tell me about myself?” I asked, laughing. “I mean, while I’m here and everything.”

She pretended to think about it, then shook her head, setting the kettle on the stove. “No, I think that’s enough for today.”

I never would have imagined a ham sandwich and a brief conversation would be what it took to get my brain moving again. Now, it hummed the way my blood hummed in my veins, ideas brewing, new plans taking rudimentary shape. Had I forgotten who I was? What I was capable of accomplishing?

I had to get out of my own way.

And I had a feeling what the first step should be.