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“We had fun,” I admitted since I knew better than to think my longtime friends would be decent and leave the past where it belonged. I would have done the same thing in their place, to turn the screw until they squirmed. At the end of the day, joking aside, we would’ve had each other’s backs through anything.

“Maybe you can have fun again?” Sebastian Kennedy suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, not all of us want to run the risk of getting involved with a coworker,” Vaughn Eastman reminded him while the rest of us chuckled. Nobody had expected Sebastian to partner up with his pastry chef, but they seemed to fit together well.

“Says the guy who works alongside his wife,” I reminded Vaughn. “And who said anything about getting involved? There’s nothing wrong with some no-strings-attached fun.”

“Fun? Complaining about work has been more your thing,” Aiden insisted while the others shrugged as if they agreed. “You used to enjoy your work.”

Funny. I could almost remember that, too, and I could remember when everything changed. Once again, a blonde walked by, catching my eye only for a moment. No, that wasn’t Winter. She didn’t have the grace, the bearing, the rigid posture born of so many years of training. Hopefully, she also can’t move across an ocean without saying goodbye to the man she was sleeping with for six months.

“How are things with you and Scarlet?” I asked Grayson, attempting to change the subject.

His face lit up, and I smiled to myself at the change that came over him. “Great. It’s nice having someone I want to go home to. It’s great feeling like I have a home,” he added with a rueful chuckle. “Not four walls I sometimes existed inside of.”

Not that I couldn’t relate. On the list of where I spent the most time, my office came in first, followed by the theater where our latest productions were being staged, and then my penthouse. Some would call me obsessive, but I considered it good business. Nobody was going to catch me with my pants down, wondering why things were going to shit when I wasn’t looking. Too many producers sat back and counted their money, settling for a weekly digest of key points and updates. No, thanks. I wanted to see for myself so any problems could be nipped in the bud.

All right. Perhaps I had become obsessive and lost what little sense of joy I ever possessed, but now wasn’t the time to fixate on that, not when there was so much riding on the success of this production. It would mean me coming into my own, an aspiration I hadn’t shared with my friends or anyone else. I could stop living in the shadow of the men and women who had come before me.

It was time for me to take the reins, and my hands were itching to do so.

“Shit, I lost track of time.” I patted my pockets, making sure I had everything I came in with before standing. “I have dinner in ten at Oscar’s.”

They knew what that meant since Oscar’s was where Mom always requested we eat. “Send her my love.” Aiden made kissing noises like he always did whenever my mother was the topic of conversation. While he would never go so far as to make a play for her—she was much too old for him, for one thing, and even he had lines he didn’t cross—she was still a very beautiful woman, well-maintained, and knew how to work the gifts she was born with. So, of course, he took pleasure in giving me shit over having a MILF for a mom.

“One of these days, McConnell,” I warned, swiping at his head but only tousling his red hair while everyone laughed. “Don’t be surprised if she calls and asks if you’d escort her to dinner some night. I’ll have to tell her what a crush you have.”

Aidan slouched a little in his chair, waving his glass like he was unbothered. “Please. She couldn’t handle me.” I had to laugh at that one. If there was one thing my mother went through like Kleenex, it was men. She always swore she was too much for them.

She was too much for me, as well. I sure as hell didn’t look forward to our dinners together, but she insisted on them. Like me, she needed to be in the know, and the woman didn’t settle for a phone call or an email.

Tonight, I would have something positive to share, which helped ease the discomfort of sitting down with her and being picked apart. But she was my mother and had sacrificed a hell of a lot to uphold the family legacy, something she never failed to remind me of. She could easily fire my ass and leave me to start from scratch. It was also something she liked to remind me of whenever I reached my limit of what I could handle from her.

But tonight, we could discuss the new show since I hadn’t wanted to give anything away until I was sure the deal went through and the show was ours. I’d gone out of my way to insist I be the only one contacted, and this was why. It was a surprise, and I looked forward to sharing it after driving across town. After my disappointment at lunch and the mixed feelings I had wrestled with for the rest of the day, I was looking forward to sinking my teeth into some red meat.

After leaving my Mustang with the valet, I entered the rather retro space and scanned the dining room for Mom’s striking silver hair, the one natural change she’d embraced. “Mr. Bennett. Right this way.” The guy at the host podium offered a discreet wink. “Your mother’s waiting.”

“Has she been waiting long?” I asked, falling in step behind him. Her trademark French twist became visible as we approached a table close to the center of the room. Another Diana Bennett trademark—sitting where everyone could see and admire her.

I then noticed the stunning brunette seated across from her. Who the fuck is this? The two of them clearly enjoyed each other’s company, laughing gently while sampling their wine as I approached. I didn’t recognize the face, though I sure as hell had met, flirted with, bedded, and discarded more women than I could count over the years. For all I knew, we were well acquainted at one point.

Her startling green eyes stood out under dark lashes even at a distance. She wasn’t a dancer. She was slim but didn’t have the same lean, lithe body I was used to, like Winter’s. Dammit, I had to go and think about her and what great shape she was still in. This was the worst possible time for her to show up in my head. Not only was I about to sit with Mom, but there was a goddess waiting for me.

A goddess who glanced away from Mom and smiled when she caught sight of me. Mom noticed and craned her neck, turning her cheek upward for a customary, brief kiss that didn’t quite make contact. “There he is. Only a few minutes late.”

It would be a day without sunshine if she couldn’t make a passive-aggressive comment, though I preferred it to flat-out aggression. “I’m glad I took the extra time to get ready now that I see who’s sharing our table.” I paired the comment with a grin aimed at the brunette, who laughed softly and shook her head.

“Dear, you remember Isobel Lawrence, don’t you?” Mom turned from me toward Isobel, wearing a maternal smile. It looked unnatural, probably because I wasn’t used to seeing it. “I’ve been friends with her parents since you two were little.”

This was Isobel Lawrence? I almost swallowed my tongue, remembering the short, pudgy little girl with a shrill voice and a bratty temper. Time had done wonders for her.

She offered a soft laugh as I sat down after shaking her hand. The sizzle I felt when I touched Winter was conspicuously absent.

“I don’t blame you if you can’t place the face,” she murmured, her high-pitched voice breathy and gentle. “It’s changed over the years.”

That’s putting it mildly. “Sure, I remember a birthday pool party we were both at years ago. You tried to drown me.”

“Jackson!” Mom swatted at me with one hand, deceptively playful. “Don’t be rude.”