used his given name? Or that she’d questioned his judgment? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to buckle in the face of his fury.
She squared her shoulders and said, “I have a family thing next week and I’m taking some vacation time.”
Confusion replaced his anger and he was back at the bar in seconds, staring down at her with something that looked like worry clouding his eyes. “How long?”
She swallowed. She was taller than average, but looking up into his eyes, only a few inches away... He made her feel small at the same time she felt like the only person in his universe.
He’d always leave her unsettled, wouldn’t he?
“Just the week. I’ll be back Monday after next. Promise.”
The look on his face—like he wouldn’t be able to function if she wasn’t there to serve the perfect Manhattan to the perfect man—was the kind of look that made her fall a little bit more in love with him while it broke her heart at the same time.
“Will you be okay?” she asked.
Something warm brushed over the top of her hand, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. Had he touched her? By the time she looked down, Robert was straightening his cuffs. “Of course,” he said dismissively, as if it was impossible for him to be anything but perfectly fine. “I’m a Wyatt.”
Then he was gone.
Jeannie stared after him. This was bad. Before she could decide how worried about him she was going to be, her phone buzzed.
It’s time! read Nicole’s message.
“It’s time!” Jeannie shouted. The waiters cheered.
Dr. Wyatt would have to wait. Jeannie’s new niece came first.
Jeannie was back tonight.
Robert hadn’t gone to Trenton’s, knowing she wouldn’t be there, and he felt the loss of their routine deeply. Instead, he’d spent a lot more time in the office, reviewing cases and getting caught up on paperwork and not thinking about Landon Wyatt or political campaigns.
But finally, it was Monday and Jeannie would be waiting for him. On some level he found his desire to see her again worrisome. She was just a bartender who’d perfected a Manhattan. Anyone could mix a drink.
But that was a lie and he knew it.
He never should have touched her. But she’d stood there staring at him with her huge brown eyes, asking if he was going to be okay, like she cared. Not because he was the billionaire Dr. Robert Wyatt, but because he was Robert.
That was what he’d missed this week. Just being... Robert.
Lost in thought, he didn’t look at the screen of his phone before he answered it. “This is Wyatt.”
“Bobby?”
Robert froze, his hand on the elevator buttons. It couldn’t be...
But no one else called him Bobby. “Mom?”
“Hi, honey.” Cybil Wyatt’s voice sounded weak. It hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. “How have you been?”
Almost three years had passed since he’d talked to his mother.
He quickly retreated to his office. “Can you talk? Are you on speakerphone?”
“Honey,” she went on, an extra waver in her voice. “You heard from Alexander, right?”
That was a no, she couldn’t talk freely.
Alexander was Landon’s assistant, always happy to do the older man’s bidding. “Yes. He said Landon wanted to run for governor.” A terrible idea on both a state level and a personal level.
Robert knew the only reason Landon Wyatt wanted to be governor was because he’d discovered a way to personally enrich himself. He wasn’t content having politicians and lobbyists in his pocket. He always wanted more.
“Your father wants you by his side.” The way she cleared her throat made Robert want to throw something. “We want you by our sides,” she corrected because the fiction that they were all one big happy family was a lie that had to be maintained at all costs, no matter what.
“Are you on speaker?”
She laughed lightly, a fake sound. “Of course not. All is forgiven, honey. We both know you didn’t mean it.”
Hmm. If she wasn’t on speaker, she was probably sitting in Landon’s opulent office, where he was watching her through those cold, slitted eyes of his—the same eyes Robert saw in the mirror every damn morning—making sure Mom stuck to the script. “Let me help you, Mom. I can get you away from him.”
“We’re having a gala to launch his campaign in two weeks.” Her voice cracked but she didn’t stop. “It’s at the Winston art gallery, right off the Magnificent Mile.”
“I know it.”
“It’d mean a lot to your father and me to see you there.”
Robert didn’t doubt that his mother wanted to see him. But to Landon, this was nothing more than another way to exert control over Robert and he’d vowed never to give Landon that much power again—even if it cost him his relationship with his mother.
“Tell me what I can do to help you, Mom.”
There was a brief pause. “We’ve missed you, too.”
Dammit. He didn’t want to pretend to be a happy family, not in private and most certainly not in public. But he knew Landon well enough to know that if he didn’t show, Mom would pay the price.
Just like she always did.
Robert couldn’t let that happen. Of all the things Landon Wyatt had done and would continue to do, dangling Cybil as bait to ensure Robert cooperated was one of the meanest.
He had to fix this. “Think about what I said, okay? We’ll talk at the gallery.”
She exhaled. “That’s wonderful, dear. It starts at seven but we’d like you to get there earlier. Your father wants to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Robert almost growled. Getting on the same page meant threats. Lots of them. “I’ll try. I have to make my rounds. But if I can get you away, will you come with me?” Because after what had happened last time...
“Thank you, Bobby,” she said and he hoped like hell that was a yes. “I—we can’t wait to see you again.”
“Me, too, Mom. Love you.”
She didn’t say it back. The line went dead.
Robert
