“Where are we going?” I ask, unable to keep quiet any longer.
“Shopping.” Her lips thin out. “Then dinner. My treat.”
Most women would probably die to go shopping with a Constantine and then get treated to dinner by her. Not me. I want to run far, far away. But, if I plan on keeping Win for the long term, then that means I have to play nice with his scary mommy.
“What is it, dear? You look nervous.”
I bark out a slightly crazed laugh. “I’m wondering if ‘shopping’ is code for something sinister like strangulation and ‘dinner’ is code for dumping my body in the Hudson.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” she purrs, her blue eyes alight with mirth.
A joke.
She knows how to joke.
Who knew?
For some reason, this settles me a bit and I take to enjoying the hustling people on every sidewalk. Rather than taking me to some warehouse to off me, we pull up in front of Brookfield Place. The mall is one I’ve been to many times over the years but it doesn’t exactly strike me as the sort of place Caroline would visit.
“I’ll call you when we’re done,” she tells the driver when he opens her car door and offers his hand.
I follow her out, accepting his help, and then shoot Caroline an expectant look. She keeps her lips pursed. In a serious, businesslike way that reminds me of Win, she heads straight inside, making a beeline for the first store she wants to visit. Salvatore Ferragamo. I’m not in the market for a new purse or wallet, so I just stand nearby as she runs her finger along a leather handbag.
Since she’s not talking to me, I decide to text Win a selfie. His response is immediate.
Win: Handbag shopping with my mother. You’ve sunk to new lows, Cinderelliott.
Me: I thought we decided we leveled up. Playing the big game here. Remember?
Win: And here I thought the game was over…
Me: You ignore me for three days and thought I’d go away? It’s like you don’t even know me.
I send him a few heart-eye emojis since he loves them. Naturally, he doesn’t respond.
Caroline purchases a purse and then we’re off to the next store. I’m patient as I wait for her to get to the point of all this. I’m not stupid. She doesn’t drag someone like me along unless she has an agenda. Like Winston, she enjoys toying with her victim first. But, since I’m used to him, I let her get it out of her system.
We pass by a candy store and a disproving shake to her head has me skipping it. I nearly roll my eyes but then remember this is Caroline, not Win. That kind of disrespect might earn me more than a spanking. Swimming in the Hudson doesn’t sound like my idea of a fun time.
She ushers me into a furniture and décor store. Despite not being here to shop for myself, I manage to find a cute set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like pink birds. Her brow lifts at my purchase.
“Win will like them,” I explain. “It’ll remind him of Shrimp.”
Her features pinch as she tries to interpret my words. Finally, she gives up and points to the register. After I’ve paid and they’ve bagged it up, I follow her back out of the store to the busy mall. This goes on forever, but soon I grow used to her intense silence. It makes me miss my mom. If she were still here, we’d probably take mall shopping trips all the time.
Caroline, keen on everything around her including me, gestures to an upscale grille. “I’m famished. Will this place do?”
It’s a bit below a billionairess’s normal dining choice, but it smells good enough to make my stomach growl.
“Perfect,” I agree.
Once we’re seated by a window that overlooks the North Cove Marina, she orders a bottle of wine and then finally turns her intense gaze on me.
“So,” she says, her critical eye raking down my front, taking in every tiny detail about me. “You caused quite a stir for my son.”
“Quite.” I pin her with a fierce look.
She waits for a beat before smoothing her delicate palm over her linen napkin. “Your family must be horrified.”
“Not as much as me, I can assure you.”
“You’re ashamed.”
“Not of Win.”
Her brows furl, anger flashing in her eyes. “Of course not. I meant—”
“Of myself?” I scoff. “The things Win and I did were our business. I’m sure if you broadcast anyone’s sex life, it’d be humiliating.”
“What, then?”
“I was worried what his family would think.” What you would think.
“And why would you care?”
“You know why.”
“Spell it out for me, darling.”
“Because I like Win. Really, really, really like him.”
She grows impatient with my excessive use of really but I figure it’s more palatable than love. “Get to the point.”
“Team Constantine, remember?”