Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(60)
I sigh and do what I knew I would ten seconds after answering the phone. I cave. My daddy has ordered me a top of the line security…thing. Tomorrow a man will come over and install a system that won’t let an ant in without authorization from the goddamned president himself.
I hate it, but if this is what it’ll take for them to get off my ass about living in the ‘Devil’s den’, as Daddy calls it, I’ll do it without too much bother.
“Oh good. And I’ve sent over a few things for you to wear to those fancy parties you go to.”
“Mamaaa, I told you I don’t go to fancy parties. The closest thing to fancy I get around here is dip to go along with the potato chips and beer.”
Bee lifts her eyebrows, and I scowl, tossing a throw pillow at her. Going out with Vincent doesn’t count, because the two times I’d accompanied him to a party he’d sent over dresses, shoes, and accessories.
“You just stop fussing and say thank you. Now I have to go. Your father’s started riding again, and I need to go make sure the fool doesn’t bust his other leg.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“Love you too, baby. Be safe.”
I hit the disconnect button and toss the phone onto the coffee table with a humph of annoyance, studiously ignoring Bee’s amusement at yet another instance of my weakness against the tidal wave that is my mama, Beatrice Bennet.
“God, I love your mom! She’s the only person alive who can get you to do what you don’t want to. Does she have a super power?”
We have this conversation every time Mama calls, and I have yet to ascertain whether or not the woman does indeed possess a mysterious power I have yet to uncover. All I know is that she can turn me upside down and inside out with nothing more than a look or a well-placed sigh of disappointment.
“Oh shut up. I was here when your granny called last month. You wore a lime green poncho to work for a week just to make her happy.”
God, I love Bee’s old grandma, but the woman has a weakness for colors that can be seen from outer space. And she loves knitting matching sets. Bee shrugs dismissively and sips a cup of coffee, considering me for a while before sighing and just getting to the point.
“Your mama isn’t the only one who has you on a short leash lately. What’s up with your boyfriend and the clothes? Doesn’t he trust you not to show up wearing jeans and sneakers?”
I’ve wondered the same thing for the last four days, and short of throwing a major tantrum and refusing to wear what he sends, I can’t think of anything to say about it.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Really? Have you slept together?”
“No,” I say, giving her the evil eye.
She grins and gives me a nod. “Does he buy you nice things and call you twice a day?”
Dammit.
“Yeah.”
“Then he’s your boyfriend! Eric buys me clothes all the time; it’s what boyfriends do. At least, it’s what Eric does, and that man is sooo my boyfriend. At least your boyfriend has taste.”
I like what he gives me, and I’d be lying if I said what he chooses for me isn’t perfect and exactly what I would choose if I could afford it. Speaking of…
“Vernon called yesterday and said my faces series seems to be quite popular. He sold three in the last four days, and some woman came in and bought the other four. Can you believe it?”
I’m so excited I could scream. I admit, when Vern had called and told me about my newfound popularity, I’d been suspicious of Vincent right off the bat. I wouldn’t put it past the guy to buy my collection just to keep me under his controlling thumb.
When Vern had assured me the buyer was not the great Vincent Blake, I’d been truly ecstatic and happy. I’m becoming a real artist instead of a flailing mess who throws paint at a canvas!
With this money, and the commission I’ll earn from Vincent’s landscapes, I can afford to take that mixed media class I’ve been wanting to, and quit all my jobs. After paying off my mountain of credit card debt and remaining student loans.
For the first time in six years I have enough money to relax and just breathe. I’m still trying not to freak out, but I have a lightness now that feels as good as it does alien.
“I’m so happy for you, Sis. I knew you’d be a success! So, are you up for a girl’s only night?”
“Sorry, little sister, but this gal has a date with her guy.”
At least, I’m assuming it’s a date. I’m finally going to start putting brush to canvas tonight, and I intend for it to end with Vincent inside me and an orgasm I’ve been waiting an eternity for.