Page 100 of Famous for a Living

“I’m not here to impress everyone.”

I grin. Take another bite. The wind nips through my coat, and I reach in, pressing the button again. The fire is warm on my cheeks, but it’s not close enough to do much against the bitter temperature otherwise.

So what are we doing here?

There’s something in his eyes.

An intentionality as solid as the steed he rode on today.

Zaiah doesn’t play games.

If he’s not in this, he wouldn’t pursue me for a moment, for a date, then ditch.

He knows this. I know this.

So what are we doing here?

I quietly turn the question off, along with the part of my brain trying to remind me that my life is in New York, not here.

“So.” I tear a piece of cornbread off and dip it in the chili. “What was it you were going to tell me about your mom?”

“My mother is here.”

“Oh.” I don’t know how or why that would’ve clicked with me, or why he should’ve expected it would. “Do I know her?”

“You share an office with her.”

I halt, my hand halfway to my lips with cornbread. “Peggy? Your mother . . . is Peggy?”

“I thought you knew.”

“And what would’ve been my clue? You guys are exact opposites!”

“Probably our last names.”

“Smith is the most common surname in the United States,” I counter. “If I went around assuming every Smith was related . . .”

“Or the fact that I go into the office every day. She’s always kissing me on the cheek.”

“She kisses everyone on the cheek,” I retort. “I literally saw her kiss a tourist on the cheek. Your mother is an unusually affectionate person.”

I laugh. Shake my head as I try to wrap my mind around this new reality. “So she moved out here then. When? Right after you?”

“No, it took a couple years of getting myself settled. Finding a halfway decent place that would work for us. Once I could afford it, I brought her out.”

As he rises to adjust the logs on the fire, I find myself momentarily stunned.

It was clear from the little he said about his childhood that things were bad where he was. Where they were. I could just see him now coming back to the city at the ripe old age of twenty, determined to bring his mother somewhere better than where she had been. Spending all his time and money in those early years, saving up what little he was given to make sure she was in a better spot with him.

A good son.

“You get her the job too?”

He smiles. Shakes his head as he pokes the fire with a stick. “No. Once Mom makes up her mind to do something, she sticks with it till it’s done. She met Terry and me for lunch one time and that was it. Next week I came to work and there she was. Secretary. It wasn’t even a position back then.”

“What, she just—”

“Just made it up. Convinced Terry he needed someone to answer the lines and bring him coffee.”