I’m too stubborn to know when to quit. “I’m not stupid. I get it, but I don’t have to like it.”
Annette tips up her chin and looks me in the eyes. “It’s a good thing your opinion doesn’t matter, then.” Her tone is icy.
“What do you mean it doesn't matter?”
“It doesn’t,” she says with a shrug. “Your father and I are in love. I’m here to stay, and you can get used to it, or not. I’ve gotten a second chance at happiness, just like your father. We’d be idiots to let that go, even if you don’t like it.” Bringing her hand up, she rubs her forehead, like she’s working out a headache.
“Well I don’t.”
Her eyes flash like lightning. “Don’t you take that tone with me. I’m not your mother, and you don’t have to like me, but you will respect me. I love your father, and you’ll just have to deal with that.” She throws up her hands. “God, I don’t understand what Claire sees in you.”
My head jerks in surprise. “Sees in me?”
“I’m a mother, remember? What, you didn’t think I could figure it out? She adored you until your stunt at the wedding.” She shudders.
“Annette. I swear, it wasn’t me. The only person who had that footage was Michael. I’d never seen it until then. I was only trying to shut the damn thing off.” Claire’s mom might not be my favorite person, but I don’t want her to think I’d do something so cruel.
“Michael, right. So where was he?”
“When you guys charged in? Apparently crawling away with his tail between his legs.”
She arches her eyebrows, waiting for my explanation.
“Look, I spotted him going in, and I should’ve dragged him to security or something, but I tried to handle it myself. You saw how well that worked out.” I sigh. “Claire is the one that needs to hear this, but if she’s not around, I’ll see myself out.”
“Declan, wait.” She stops me as I leave the room. “Claire isn’t ready to talk to you. Even if you’d found her here. But I’ll tell her what you said.”
“You believe me?”
One slender shoulder tips in a half shrug. “I agree with Garrett that it seems out of character, and I’m willing to defer to his judgment considering he knows you better. Personally my experiences with you haven’t left me so inclined to be generous.”
I wince. “And it doesn’t bother you that Claire and I were, are... involved?”
“Truthfully? Yes it bothers me, because you seem petty and immature. But it bothers me more to see her like she is now. Quiet, adrift and obviously not over you in any sense that I can think of.” She shrugs. “She’s an adult, and she’s seen me make mistakes in the name of love. Maybe she sees something in you that I don’t.”
I nod. “That’s fair.” With a sigh, I do one of the things I’m worst at. “Annette, I’m sorry.”
She purses her lips, bemused. “For which thing are you apologizing? Just so I know.”
Shit, I can see where Claire got her attitude from. I’m starting to see why this was finally the woman who got through to Dad. “For being a dick. You’ve obviously put a lot more thought into me and my happiness than I have yours. Can we start over, maybe?”
Her face softens. “I’d like that.”
I hold out my hand. “Declan Riordan, stepson, lawyer, hotheaded jerk.”
“Nice to meet you, Declan.” She takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “Annette Riordan, event planner, wife, not your fucking mother.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and she takes one look at my face before laughing right along with me. This might just work out after all.
Now all I have to do is win back the girl.
Claire
“Hello?” It takes a second before I realize I haven’t answered the call yet because I actually need to press a physical button.
My old phone is in pieces by the roadside, and I need to get a new one—which is great, I guess—but in the meantime I’m borrowing one of Mom’s old phones and it’s straight out of the digital stone age, plus none of my contacts are in it.
On the positive side, hardly anyone has this number, so I don’t have to worry about hearing from Declan, or Michael or pretty much anyone else on my current shit list.
I find what I hope is the right button and try again. “Hello?”
“What’s the difference between a lawyer and a herd of buffalo?”
A faint smile curls my lips. I haven’t missed work, but I’ve missed Carl. He must've gotten the number from Mom. “I have no idea. What is it?”