Never Say Yes To Your Best Friend (I said Yes)

6. Mont

Chapter six

Mont

I ’ve bungled this right up.

I didn’t think Evilla would quit, which probably makes me sound like a terrible asshole.

I wanted the fake girlfriend thing to be an agreement, not blackmail, but it came out sounding and looking an awful lot like it. I wanted to find a solution that works for both of us, but that was after I tore her world down and replaced it with my arsehole-y presence. Plus, I called her company bougie . She was correct. I had no right. I had no right to buy the place, and I had no right to ask her what I asked her. I had no right to ask that she help me out. Half of what I did was because I was desperate, but the other half?

It’s a number I can’t define, but it’s wholly because I can’t get this woman out of my head .

I don’t want to be intrigued by her. I don’t want to be awed by her feisty spirit. I don’t want to find myself unexpectedly attracted to her. I don’t want to want her, but my body does.

Hence, it’s the reason why I’m shoving back from the table and quite literally sprinting out of the coffee shop while trying to hide the fact that I have a very visible problem in my pants at the moment.

Half visible, I hope.

She’s making time in her heels. They’re more of the functional, basic kind, suitable for walking around on them for long hours, not the sky-high, fashionable, liable-to-break-your-ankle variety. Her outfit screams business casual, from her black pencil skirt to her cream colored knit sweater. And god, that hair. Her natural hair. It looked lovely under the coffee shop lights, but outside, it now looks like copper-gold lightning crashing down from the sky.

Shit, no, that’s real lightning.

There is no sun out here. The sky is beyond steel or slate and straight into furious gray-black.

“Evilla, wait!” I’m chasing after her for a different reason now.

She’s powerwalking down the sidewalk, and she doesn’t seem to be taking any note of the gathering storm. I notice immediately because there are jagged lightning forks up in the cloudy, dark-as-midnight sky.

A loud clap of thunder roars through the sky, bouncing off the buildings around us, and Evilla practically jumps two feet in those sturdy heels. She yelps and stops dead. I reach her right as the sky opens up. I’ve heard that saying before when it comes to rain, but I don’t think I’ve ever been in a downpour like this one. Roaring? That was the thunder half a second ago, but now, this rain is roaring like an industrial monolith. It doesn’t happen gently. It comes all at once, like unabated grief.

“I don’t want you to quit your job. That’s not why I came to get coffee with you.”

Her eyes flash with lightning of their own. This woman is all sass and also do me a favor and kiss my whole freaking ass, douchebag . And honestly, I would. I would kiss her ass if she wanted me to.

Fuck. I don’t need to sport a full-on hard-on right here in the middle of one hell of a storm.

“You didn’t come to coffee with me. You bought the place where I work because you wanted to make good on your threats. But I’m not here to play that game. You’re sick and twisted and…I still maintain that you are quite nutless when it comes to your parents. You’re how old? Grow up. Do it fast because you’re the one manning this pudding ship now, and there are many people here, good people, who depend on you.”

She tries to shove past me, but I put a hand gently on her arm. “Please.” If she quits, I might never see her again. Anything I do to try and produce another meeting will likely only result in a restraining order. “You’re right. There are good people here, and they deserve to have this company be every bit as successful as it ever was and more. That’s my goal.”

Her frown could split me in half if it were an axe. You know, good old axing frowns. Off with my head right here in the street. “You wanted me to quit. You mucked this up. You’re a royal mucker. I might add you’re also something else that rhymes with that word, but I promised myself I’d take the higher road here. You already think I’m some uncouth individual, but I’m not. I’m not, and this is proof. I’m going to do this in a dignified manner. I wish you luck with your new acquisition. I hope, for the sake of all the people who make this their living and their passion, that everything works out. I wish them success, if not you. Specifically, not you, but I think the company and you are tied together now, and there’s nothing I can do about that. You don’t deserve this place. That’s all I’m going to say. Pudding was a dream for so many people. It was more than just a living for me. That’s something you’re never going to understand. So, good day, bad sir. Have the life you deserve.”

She shakes my hand off and burns up the sidewalk, giving me a full view of how those small heels still accentuate the fine muscles in her long legs, her very nicely shaped bottom, and the way her hips roll very nicely with every angry step.

Do something. Don’t just stand here, staring at her bum. Move.

I catch up with her right at the building’s front door. We’re both a sopping mess. I can’t say I look good, but even drenched, she is breathtaking.

She wipes her soaked hair off her wet forehead and huffs at me. Water droplets cling to her nose and eyelashes and slide down her cheeks while her bow lips flatten out in an expression that is pure displeasure. “I said good day.”

“I’m just trying to get in out of the rain. My office is here too now. I’m not following you.”

“Ugh.” She throws open the door, and we both step into the lobby slash reception area together.

I stop short, and my breath rushes out of me. I might as well have just been hit by a rogue Beluga whale picked up by all that rain and somehow dropped straight on top of me.

Evilla stops so fast that she sways in her waterlogged shoes. I hear the squish, slap, squelch. The water pours off our clothing and makes very untidy puddles beneath us. I see her suck in her breath, and she doesn’t let it back out.

Because the woman standing right in front of the reception desk is unmistakably my mother.

She looks just like me.

Minus the square jaw, hard features, muscles, and height. The rest, though? I’m all her.

Evilla stops dead, but her body vibrates with restrained energy. She doesn’t turn to me, doesn’t look between us, and doesn’t give me any glaring looks. She doesn’t accuse me of planning this or planting my mother as the continuation of my scheme.

I look at her and not my mom. I’m staring at the back of her head, but I’m still looking. And I’m probably not doing it right. I might not be watching my mom’s reaction, but she’s watching me . How does one look at another person when they are supposedly bitten, smitten, and absolutely head over heels in love? Or infatuated with. Because curious attraction isn’t enough.

Anyhow, whatever way I’m looking at Evilla, it signals to my mother that this is her. The one. The one I’m over the freaking moon for.

Mom makes the first move. She breaks toward Evilla at what I can only term a dead hurtle. It’s kind of like a dead run, but instead of running, she’s just powerwalking. Then, she throws herself at Evilla and takes one of her wet, limp hands.

“Darling! It’s so good to meet you.”

“Mom,” I choke out. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you on your first day. I brought my own special pudding. I made enough for at least a hundred people to have a taste. Maybe they want to make it their next big flavor. You always said it was good enough to win awards. And I wanted to tell you how proud I am that you’re expanding and growing in your career.”

“ Mom .” That word is all gravel with a hint of please kill me now. The only thing that’s going to save me is the fact that other than Marjorie sitting over at the reception desk with the most curiously contained expression, it’s just us here to witness this.

“Of course, I wanted to meet this amazing, fantastic, and lovely woman of your dreams as well.” She’s still holding Evilla’s hand. “You’re a goddess. You’ve captivated my son’s soul, and I couldn’t be happier. Possess him. Possess him hard. I want grandchildren one day, but all in good time. Right now, I’m just so, so very happy to meet you. I thought this day would never come. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world. You’ve already worked wonders in Mont’s life, seeing as he bought an entire company just to be close to you. He’s so enthusiastic about pudding. You should hear the things he said, all the plans he’s making. Ahhhh, I can barely take it. You two, making pudding together.” She brushes a tear out of her eye.

This is too much. Before I die of humiliation or possibly the dagger stare that Evilla is going to thrust on me, I step forward. I have to detach my mother.

Also, at any second, Evilla is going to drop the bomb that we’re not really together. That I lied about everything.

Her other hand comes up, but instead of prying Mom’s fingers off of hers, she closes them on top of hers. “Yes,” she says in the gushiest voice. That’s not her real voice. I know it’s not. It’s too high, not the smoky tones she just used to give me a tongue-lashing at the coffee shop. “It’s so good to meet you. I’m so excited for what the future holds.”

What? She is? No. No, she’s not. Why is she going along with this?

“Goodness!” Mom fans herself for no reason at all. Wait. I think it’s because she’s going to cry. The fanning motion does nothing at all for that. I’ve seen it before. Bawling is about to go down.

I have to intervene before we have waterworks in here that rival the storm outside. “We should really be getting to work, Mom. There’s always so much to do in the first few days. Evilla wants us to be under the radar here. We’re not a pudding king and queen. We’re just regular people, and she doesn’t want it to appear like her dating me gives her special status.”

“Right! Right.” Mom drops her hand and backs up. “I’ll let you get on with your day then.” Like we’re not standing here soaked as slippers, accidentally drowned in a driveway puddle. “Promise me you’ll try the pudding, Bergamont.”

I’ve officially reached maximum humiliation.

Especially when my mother follows that up with a kiss on my cheek and a squeeze on my shoulder and then just saunters away. She stops at the front door and gives a queenly wave before stepping out into the pouring rain, looking happy enough to dance in it.

I rush to the door. There are holy shit amounts of lightning out there, but my mom races to her car, which is parked on the street right in front of the building. I don’t know why I didn’t even see it when I was racing over here. Oh, right. I was distracted. Mom gets in the car without mishap. She’s wet, but my mom is the kind of person who never lets a little bit of rain stop her.

Marjorie seems to be the kind of woman who won’t let this spread, but she’s giving us both that strange, undiluted look of curious disbelief.

Evilla points to the hallway. “Your office, darling. I’d just like to talk for a minute if that’s alright?”

“Did my mom seriously drop off enough pudding to feed everyone?” There has to be a rule about this. It seems like a liability waiting to happen. This is not how I wanted to kick off my first day here.

Marjorie looks like a cat that just got gifted a whole cage of canaries, and her nod confirms it. “She did. I’ve put it in the staff fridge. She did insist that I taste it, and it’s marvelous. I think she’s right. We just might have found a new flavor.”

“Hold that thought for just a minute. I’ll be right back.”

She gives us a secret little smile. It’s either she’s pleasantly surprised at the knowledge that we’re secretly a thing, or she knows we just pulled a fast one on my mother. I’m not sure which, and I need to get to my office and figure out what the heck just happened.

We’re both still soaking wet, but that’s not why Evilla gives me a look like she just stepped in a puddle of cold urine left by an incredibly cute puppy right after she put on a brand new pair of socks because the last ones went the way of socks in the washer, compliments of said puppy and a different puddle.

“W—why?” I stammer. That’s the best I can do. I have no words. I’m utterly confused.

She crosses her arms. Her wet clothes press alluringly against the curves of her body. Her hair is starting to dry off on top, and the little frizzy strands stand out all over the place. Her mascara is running down one cheek, and it’s also starting to dry. She’s probably standing in an inch of water in her shoes, and her clothing is still dripping onto the floor, but she manages to look like a regal queen.

“Because I’ve changed my mind. I think this might actually be fun.” The way she says fun sounds more like I’m about to be strapped to a medieval torture device. It might be entertaining for her, but it’s definitely not going to be pleasant for me. “I don’t want a promotion. I want you to restructure the company so everyone gets a raise and feels seen and heard no matter what their position is. Sure, there can still be bosses and all that, but teamwork is a way better option. Everyone here is great. I think it could work, everyone sharing in the leadership. And I want shares. People work better when they’re invested in what they’re doing. Everyone here already has a great love for this place, so they should be part owners. And I don’t mean paltry shares that don’t mean anything. I mean real shares. You bought this company on a whim, which means you’re richer than god. You don’t really need it. So, prove you can be a good person with a good heart. Give it back to the employees. When you succeed, they succeed.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to do that?”

Her eyes narrow. “If it means everyone else gets a big boost, then I can handle that you’re going to the top with them. I care about the people here. They’re real people with real problems, real hearts, real families, and real lives that have stresses and financial obligations. If you do that, then I’ll continue to pretend I’m your fake girlfriend. For like…two months. However silly I think it might be, this place is more important. The people here matter more. I knew I loved my job, but I didn’t even realize how much until I thought about losing it. We’re a family here. You’re not allowed to walk in and break it up just because you have issues in your own family.”

I can’t keep my face from doing funny things. I don’t even know how to feel about this right now. “You thought all this up on the spot?”

“Your mother is very sweet and absolutely terrifying , so I panicked. But while I was panicking, and she was taking my hand and looking for all the world as though I’d just made her entire life by existing, I made a decision. It’s all or nothing. You give the company back to us and make it the world’s best place to work, or I walk. It’s entirely up to you.”

“So you don’t think I’m entirely ball-less.”

She huffs. “Whatever. Your mom is nice. Lots of moms are nice. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have the courage to tell her the truth.”

“But you didn’t either.”

She stiffens. “I’m a pushover, okay? We can both agree on that. I’m not trying to say I’m not. I didn’t want to destroy a lovely woman’s heart. But she’s not my mother. I’m real with my family. If they don’t like some of my decisions, I own it. You need to own it, too.”

“You’re right.”

She gapes at me. “Excuse me?”

“I will. I’ll own it. After this. After we break up from our…uh…fake relationship, I’ll put my foot down and say no more,” I say.

“That’s not owning it. That’s just part of the scheme.”

“We’re both knee-deep in the scheme now. There’s really no way to backtrack.”

“You could tell her the truth about all of it. If you went to these crazy lengths just to make her happy over telling her the truth, I think she would understand that she needs to back off.”

“Or she would be so heartbroken that she would never talk to me again.”

“Or that.”

“It can’t be that,” I tell her.

“Then I guess you’re left with only one option,” she replies.

“It would take time, a restructuring of that size.”

Those sharp green eyes of hers get even sharper and narrow into tinier slits. “Then let it take time. No one here is going anywhere.”

“Does that include you?”

“If it’s Option A, then it includes me staying.”

She’s right. I’ve boxed myself into a corner. I’ve been ridiculous and taken the coward’s way, the liar’s way, the ball-less way. It all looks so silly from the outside, but living it is another thing entirely. I can see why she has so much scorn for me. I have scorn for myself, too. But we’re here now. I’ve made the choices I’ve made, and I can’t undo them. I can’t break my mother’s heart by telling her this was all a scam. She won’t understand. She just won’t. To her, there is nothing better in life than love, and she wants it so badly for me. She just…she won’t understand. She won’t forgive me fully.

There will always be a part of her that remains broken, and I’ll have done that because I couldn’t act sooner. The only option I see now is riding out this mess until I can clean it up and then grow a set of balls and tell my mom no more. She won’t have to know, and I’ll just move on and live my own life. The dates will stop, and the endless push for me to find someone will stop. I’ll have my freedom, and my mom’s heart won’t be shattered. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best I’m going to be able to do at this point.

There’s a very real chance I need to evaluate my life up to this point. While I’m rather successful in business, I’ve been anything but in other areas.

Evilla knows what choice I’m going to make before I even tell her. She nods at me like she doesn’t approve, but she understands. One thing is clear. She might not like me, but she clearly loves this place and the people here, so much so that she’s willing to do this with me even though she detests everything about it. Even though I’ve gone about this the wrong way and probably appear completely unhinged at best or a mega asshole at worst. Wait, maybe it’s the other way around. Well, whatever. I don’t look good, and I’m never going to look like a good person to her.

“Good decision,” she mutters under her breath. It sounds absolutely menacing. “I’m going to dry off the best I can and try your mom’s pudding. We could always use more flavors around here, especially because we’ve been bought out. People will expect great things. We’re still looking to crack the one-hundred mark. The next one has to be momentous.”

Why did I ever think this was a good idea?

Why did I get carried away and impulsively and wickedly buy a pudding company?

How did I end up here now? How did things get this out of control? I barely even recognize myself right now.

Evilla walks to the door and leaves me with her last, icy words. “Better get cracking on the great things, Mr. Montfield. Oh, I mean… darling .”