He decided he hated her mother. “You told me you didn’t care.”
“I don’t.” But the protestation sounded hollow.
“I think you do,” he said gently. “I think you care a lot about what she thinks. About what your family thinks.”
Christie didn’t say anything for a long moment. “They’re my family. And she’s my mother,” she said finally. As if this explained everything.
“So?” His own mother had left without even a good-bye. She meant nothing to him.
“What do you mean, so?”
“Why care about the opinions of people who don’t appreciate you?”
She turned to him, eyes dark. “They brought me up.”
His hands were clenched on the steering wheel of the car. “That doesn’t mean anything. Just because your mother gave birth to you doesn’t mean…” He stopped, realizing what he’d almost said.
“Doesn’t mean what, Joseph?”
Christ, he didn’t want to talk about it. His shitty family life. But back at her place he’d seen the hurt in her eyes as he’d told her he was fine and turned away. He hadn’t been fair back then. He knew that. He just hadn’t wanted to get into his general uselessness as a relationship prospect, not then, not when she had her family to meet.
But he had to give her something. And what did it matter if he told her? It wasn’t a secret, was it? And he didn’t care. Not these days. He had his company. He had his success. He had everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he’d been denied as a kid.
“My mother left when I was thirteen. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t. No good-byes. No nothing. And my dad blamed me for it. So just because they brought you up, doesn’t mean they deserve a thing from you.”
Silence. Shit, why had he said anything? It was all in the past. He’d gotten over the anger years ago. Hadn’t he?
“Oh, Joseph,” Christie said softly. “I’m sorry. That must have been so hard.”
It had been. But he’d held it together for Jude. For his little sister who adored him, even if his mother had been sick of the sight of him. Even if his father had blamed him for making her leave. As if you could blame a kid for the bad behavior of an adult.
“It happened. It’s over,” he said dismissively.
But Christie didn’t seem to hear the warning in his voice. “Why did she leave?”
“How the hell would I know? It wasn’t like she popped back to tell me.”
A small silence.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quiet. “I didn’t mean to p-push.”
The stutter was back. He’d noticed it came out when she was either nervous or stressed, which meant he’d hurt her. What a prick. “Don’t apologize, honey. It’s not your fault. Anyway, it’s all in the past. Old news. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
She remained silent a moment, then nodded and changed the subject, asking him something about his business. They chatted for a while about their jobs and he enjoyed hearing her talk about hers.
“So what made you decide on writing rather than working in the electronics industry?” he asked as they turned down the road to her parents’ house. “Because you know that job offer in my R&D department is still open.”
“I always liked writing. I’m much better at it than talking, at least. And I liked playing with new technology. So working in tech journalism seemed like a great way of combining the two things I like to do best in the world. “ She grinned. “But I have to say that job offer is very tempting. Would I get to play with tech all day?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And do the boss every night?”
He laughed. “Okay, that does it. You’re hired.”
“What about you? Why technology?”
“Because it’s always changing. Always moving forward at such a fast rate. There’s always something new on the horizon, new ideas, new advances.” He glanced at her and grinned. “And it’s something I’m good at.”
“You are. Hey, I just had a thought with the Arkon. There’s a bit of the motherboard that—” she stopped. “Oh. We’re here.”
Joseph slowed the Tesla Roadster outside the huge, white, two-story villa mansion clearly visible through the trees. With manicured lawns, trees, and a huge “don’t bother me, I’m too important” gate, the place reeked of money and entitlement.
Christie’s tension only got worse as he announced them at the intercom and the gates opened, allowing him to drive up a long driveway lined with stately oaks.