clucked softly. “Oh, now—you two, it’s time to wash our hands and have a snack.” She picked up Eddy and Addy toddled along behind, the mention of a snack suddenly the most important thing in the world.
Sofia grinned after her babies. She had pictures of David at that age and Eddy, especially, was going to look a lot like his father. Addy’s hair was a little darker, her face a little more round—just like Sofia’s had been.
She sank back into the old couch, grateful for the moment of silence. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe that’s all there was to this insane salary. Eric was just being generous. Maybe it had nothing to do with her at all. To a guy like him, a Jenner, money was the easy, obvious solution. It would never run out.
It didn’t feel like that, though. If anything, it felt...dangerous. More than just the way he’d talked her down from the panic attack, more than the heated way he looked at her whenever she pushed back against his dictates. Those things were bad enough, but easy to dismiss as old friends catching up or him flirting with her just like he flirted with everyone else.
No, what was dangerous to Sofia’s mental well-being was the way he had matter-of-factly stated that he could somehow keep her safe.
It had been a sweet thing to say, but Sofia had recognized something else in his eyes when he said it, something lost. He had been left at the altar. Had he loved his ex-fiancée? Had his whole world changed in that one single moment and he still wasn’t sure who he’d become in the aftermath?
How far had he fallen before he’d picked himself back up?
She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be that friend for him, not like in the old days. She was a professional. And besides, she didn’t have much of a heart left to be broken.
“What am I supposed to do, David?” she whispered in the quiet of the room. She got no answer, but she wasn’t expecting one.
She had the job. She could take care of her outstanding bills, hire some help for her mom and start moving past living just one day at a time. And she could do all that without getting entangled in Eric’s life again. She’d keep a tight handle on any behavior that might be construed as unprofessional, too. No more panic attacks—at least not in public. No more telling him she wasn’t qualified for the job. She didn’t belong in his world, but she could fake it until she made it.
The job was hers. She would do it for her children and her parents.
But most of all, she would do the job for herself. She needed the work and the salary.
She just had to remember that she didn’t need Eric.
“Darling!” Elise Jenner said from behind her desk in her office in the mansion. Dad’s was connected to hers with a door, but they kept it firmly shut. Mom lived in mortal terror that John Jenner’s clutter would spread like a contagion through the house.
His mother’s office was best described as Louis XVI run amok. Rococo flourishes, gilt trim and pink upholstery made the place almost blinding to look at. Everything about Elise Jenner was overdone. Eric might not decorate with gold leaf, but his buildings had been described as over-the-top on more than one occasion. At least he came by it honestly.
“We weren’t expecting you tonight.” She studied him as he kicked off his shoes before stepping on the Persian rug. That had been a rule in this house for as long as he could remember. “What’s wrong?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that Sofia Cortés got married? Or widowed? Or had twins?”
His mother looked at him, surprised. “Why, dear—I didn’t think you remembered her. You never asked about her.” She sat back, looking perturbed. “What brought this on?”
“How could I forget her?” he replied, avoiding this second question. “She was practically my best friend when we were kids. Something I recall you encouraging,” he added.
Elise tilted her head and stared at him. For all of her love of extravagant interior design, the woman wasn’t soft. She cultivated a flamboyant image and then used it ruthlessly to her advantage. “What happened today, dear?”
Coming to visit his parents in this mood was a mistake. He wanted answers—not an interrogation. But the day with Sofia had muddled his thinking. “I hired her today. She’s my new office manager.”
“Oh?”
Eric glared at his mother. “And thanks to a lack of knowledge sharing on your behalf, I made an ass of myself three different times. If not more. I wasn’t prepared for her to be a mother—to twins, no less.”
“I see,” she said in that slow, maddening way of hers. He could see the wheels turning in her head.
“When’s Dad getting home?” he asked in a belated attempt to steer the conversation away from Sofia. He knew it was Mom sending Christmas cards to the Cortés family, not Dad. Plus Dad’s office was cluttered and cozy. They could kick back, drink a beer and watch the Cubs. And not discuss other people’s babies.
Elise waved her hand. “He’s touring a condo on the Gold Coast that hasn’t been on the market for forty years. It’s close to the pier you use, it’s got amazing views and it’s almost three thousand square feet—more than enough room for a family.” She smiled prettily. “You should take a look at it. It’ll need to be redone, obviously, but...”
His parents were semiretired, but to him, they still seemed as vibrant and active as ever. It helped that Mom had a really good plastic surgeon. She didn’t look like she’d had work done but she certainly didn’t look like she was in her sixties, either.
However, just because she didn’t want to look like a grandmother didn’t mean she didn’t want grandbabies, because she did.
Oh, yeah—coming here had definitely been a mistake. “Mom, we’re not getting into the topic of grandchildren again.”
“We’re not?” She sounded so innocent that he almost relaxed. Of course that was the exact moment she went for the kill. “Then why does it upset you that Sofia has children?”
“I’m not upset,” he snapped. He began to pace. “It just surprised me. I didn’t realize...”
“That she’d grown up and moved on with her life? Yes,” his mother said in the caring voice that drove Eric nuts because she really did care. He had friends—Marcus Warren specifically—who had monsters dressed up as parents. Eric knew it was a rare and wonderful thing that he had two parents who not only loved each other but also him. They wanted to see him happy.
“I understand,” his mother went on.
“Really, Mom? What do you understand?” He was aware that he was being a jerk—a fact confirmed by the pointed look she gave him. But he couldn’t seem to help it.
He found himself thinking about Sofia’s twins, Addy and Eddy. They’d been in a tub, their hair crazy and their smiles wide. They loved the water, it was clear. How much fun would they have in the pool? He’d taught Sofia to swim, after all. It would be hilarious to get those two paddling around.
And of course, if the twins were in the water, then Sofia would be with them. Which posed a very important question—bikini or one-piece? He’d love to see her curves in a bathing suit, water sheeting off her body as she pulled herself up the ladder, sun shining off her skin as she lay out under the summer sun to dry out...
He adjusted his trousers and tried to get his mind out of the gutter. It didn’t do to fantasize about old friends in his mother’s parlor. He should’ve gone out on his boat. In fact, he’d do that right now. He walked off the Persian rug and jammed his feet into his shoes.
“Things change whether you like it or not,” his mother went on. “She changed—and you changed, honey. But you know what I’ve found?”