“Mother, why are you doing this?” I asked in a soft voice. “Why are you being so incredibly cruel and unbending? What is wrong with you?”
“Me? What is wrong with me?” she laughed. “Oh, Payton, you have no idea how the world works. Your father spoiled you and now that he’s gone, I’m left to pick up the pieces and make sure that you don’t lose everything as you flit through the world trying to make a career out of a pipe dream.”
“It’s not a pipe dream, Mother,” I said stiffly. “I’ve worked hard to get to where I am.”
“You’ve worked hard to become the mistress of a Back of the Yards billionaire who sees you as nothing more than a means to an end for his sports dream?” she spat. “Well, good for you; that’s something you can be very proud of.”
“I am not his mistress,” I said through clenched teeth, and despite the fact that I was lying through them, I continued, “We are seeing each other, and we’re serious about this relationship.”
“Ah yes, well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” she smirked. “Give it a few months and he’ll get bored when he realizes you have nothing he wants.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I said as I stood staring at her, trying to figure out how, despite the fact that she had raised me, I knew nothing about my mother. It was like I was looking at a complete stranger.
“No, I’ve simply learned that there are things you have to do if you want to survive, and I’ve done them,” she said as she moved to the bar and poured herself a glass of champagne from the open bottle that sat chilling in ice. “I’m not as sentimental about things as you are, Payton, and if you want to succeed, you’d better learn to toughen up, young lady. Champagne?”
I shook my head and watched as she carried her glass back to the seat she’d commandeered for herself and sat down. I could not fathom what it took to be the person she’d become and I felt sad that she’d hardened her heart so much that she now hated her only daughter. I looked at her as the anger and hurt bubbled up inside me, and before I could stop myself, I said, “I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to hate their own mother, but I’m finding it a lot easier every time I see you.”
“Get out,” my mother growled. “Leave this stadium and do not come back until you’ve learned some manners, Payton Gale. Honor thy mother and father. Do you remember nothing?”
“Ha! You’re such a hypocrite!” I cried as I turned for the door. “A pathetic hypocrite who killed her own son.”
I beat a fast exit and slammed the door behind me. When I heard the sound of glass shattering against the door, I knew I’d hit a nerve.
I called a cab and sat in the backseat weeping silently the whole ride back to the penthouse.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dax
When Payton returned to the penthouse, I was in my office drafting a letter that Finn and I decided to send to potential clients once the new offices were up and running. I’d left the door open, but Payton walked past it without saying a word. I waited to see if she’d reemerge, and when she didn’t, I got up and went to check on her.
“Payton?” I called as I tapped on her door and then cracked it open.
“Go away,” she said in a flat voice.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Leave me alone,” she said without elaborating. So, I did as she asked.
It wasn’t until Wednesday that I saw her, and by then she looked like her usual self. I walked into her office to let her know I was going to begin the process of interviewing potential GMs. She was sitting at her desk talking on the phone when I entered, and I marveled at how at home she looked. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and she was wearing a silk blouse the color of the bright-blue summer sky over Lake M
ichigan. She smiled at me and held up her hand as she finished the conversation.
“Hey, how are you doing?” she asked after she ended the call. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you all week.”
“I’m good,” I said as she got up and walked around the desk. “I was worried.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said looking down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at me. “Sunday was rough, but I’m okay now.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” she said with a faint smile. “But thanks for the ear.”
“Anytime,” I nodded. I moved ahead saying, “I’ve got two things I want to talk about. First, news coverage has been dropping over the past couple of weeks, so we need to schedule this week’s dinner plans for somewhere accessible; any suggestions?”
“I would love to go to Black Jack,” she said smiling up at me as she stepped forward and took my hand. “It’s been a while and I’ve got a taste for a good burger. Plus, Jack will appreciate the publicity, I’m sure.”
“You’re on,” I grinned as I squeezed her hand, remembering our first meeting and wondering if she had plans to try and recreate the bathroom adventure that had been interrupted. It had been more than a week since she’d exercised her contractual options, and I had been wavering between feeling relieved not to have to deal with the complications it created and antsy because I couldn’t shake the fact that I wanted her more than ever.