One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 64

"Yes, honey. Kyle Warren. Do you think there’s reason to be nervous? For Braxton?"

"No, Mom," I say, but I’m not sure I believe it. After all, even I know that Kyle Warren hates Braxton, that they are constantly at each other. I’m not sure what the history is between them, but I know enough to be worried about it. "I’m sure that Braxton has plenty of attorneys to help with this sort of thing. Besides, I don’t even know what Jeff could be suing over. I left of my own accord. It wasn’t as if Braxton made me leave my husband."

"Jeff seems so sweet when he calls to talk to us, honey," my mom continues. "It’s just so hard to believe that everything you’ve said about him is true."

I’m not sure what to say to her. It’s like she’s daring me to defend my allegations about my husband. "People can be deceiving, Mom," I say. "Believe me, he’s not sweet. Not at all. He’s been misleading you and lying to you for years. I’m sure that you’ll see his true colors come out soon enough."

"I’m sure you’re right," she says, but she doesn’t sound like she means it. With a lighter air than before, Mom asks, "When do we get to meet Braxton?"

I am not sure how to answer that question. It sounds like Braxton might be busy for the foreseeable future if Jeff’s new lawyer is truly trying to take everything away from him. I can’t expect Braxton to concern himself with meeting my family at a time like this. But I would love to bring my parents here, to this amazing house, to let them see the art room and everything else Braxton has blessed me with. "Soon," I tell her, hoping that is answer enough.

"Oh, good. Where are you now? In his mansion?"

"Yes," I tell her. "I’m in the art room he’s had set up for me. Painting." I look at the half-finished piece I’d been working on and start to criticize it immediately. Are the proportions right? Is there enough shadow? What about the angles? I consider painting over it.

"I am so glad he’s making you happy, honey. Just… be careful, won’t you?"

My attention has left the painting, and I am now focused on my mother. "What do you mean?" I ask her, tentatively.

"Well, men like him… you never know."

"Never know what?" I ask, thinking maybe I shouldn’t.

"You know, honey. Men like him can be quite flippant, going from one girl to the next without a thought."

I understand now what she’s saying. She thinks that I’m just a flavor of the month for Braxton. "It’s not like that, Mom," I tell her, sure of what I’m saying, though she’s starting to cast doubts.