Beautiful Bastard

and told me to remind you about dinner tonight at the house. Henry and Mina are coming over with the baby.”
    “I’ll be there.”
    He made his way over to the door, stopping to look back at me. “Don’t be late.”
    “I won’t. Christ!” He knew as well as anyone that I don’t show up late for anything, even something as simple as a family dinner. Henry, on the other hand, would be late to his own funeral.
    Finally alone, I stepped back into my office and collapsed into my chair. Okay, so maybe I was a little on edge.
    I reached into my pocket and pulled out what remained of her underwear, ready to discard them into my drawer with the others, when I noticed the tag. Agent Provocateur. She dropped a pretty penny on these. And it sparked my curiosity. I opened the drawer to examine the other two pair. La Perla. Damn, this woman was serious about her underwear. Maybe I should stop into the La Perla store downtown sometime and at least see how much my little collection was costing her. I ran my free hand through my hair and tossed them all back in the drawer slamming it shut.
    I was officially out of my mind.

    As hard as I tried, I couldn’t focus on a damn thing all day. Even after a vigorous lunchtime run, I still couldn’t get my mind past the morning’s events. By three, I knew I had to get out of there. I reached the elevator and groaned slightly, opting for the stairs and then realizing that was an even worse mistake. I sprinted down eighteen flights.
    Pulling up to my parents’ home later that evening, I felt some of my tension slip away. As I walked into the kitchen, I was immediately engulfed by the familiar smell of Mom’s cooking, and my parents’ happy chatter coming from the dining room.
    “Bennett,” my mom sang as I stepped into the room. I bent down and kissed her cheek, allowing her a brief moment to try and fix my unruly hair. Finally swatting her hands away, I grabbed a large bowl from her and placed it on the table, snatching a carrot as commission. “Where’s Henry?” I asked, looking out toward the living room.
    “They’re not here yet,” answered my dad as he walked in. Henry was bad enough, but throw in his wife and daughter and they were lucky to even make it out of the house at all. I walked to the bar outside to make my mother a dry martini.
    Twenty minutes later, the sounds of chaos came from the foyer, and I stepped in to meet them. A small, unstable body with a toothy grin hurled itself at my knees. “Benny!” the little girl squealed.
    I snatched Sofia up and smothered her cheeks with kisses.
    “God, you’re pathetic,” Henry groaned as he walked past me.
    “As if you’re any better.”
    “You should both shut up, if anyone wants my opinion,” Mina added, following her husband into the dining room.
    Sofia was the first grandchild and the princess of the family. As usual, she preferred to sit on my lap during dinner and I tried to eat around her, doing my best to avoid her “help.” She definitely had me completely wrapped around her finger.
    “Bennett, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” my mother began, handing me the bottle of wine. “Would you invite Chloe to dinner next week, and do your best to convince her to actually come?”
    I groaned in response and received a quick kick in the shin from my father. “Christ. Why is everyone so insistent on getting her over here?” I asked.
    Mom straightened, wearing her best Firm Mother face. “She’s in a strange city all alone, and—”
    “Mom,” I interrupted, “she’s lived here since college. She’s twenty-six. It’s not a strange city to her anymore.”
    “Actually, Bennett, you’re right,” she answered with a rare edge in her voice. “She came here for college, graduated summa cum laude, worked with your father for a few years before moving to your department and being the best employee you’ve ever had—all while she attends night school to get her degree. I think Chloe is pretty amazing, so I have someone I’d like her to meet.”
    My fork froze in midair as those words sank in. Mom wanted to set her up with someone? I tried to mentally file through all of the single men we knew and had to discount each of them immediately. Brad: too short. Damian: fucks anything that moves. Kyle: gay. Scott: dumb. Well, this was odd. I felt something constrict in my chest, but I wasn’t sure what it was. If I had to put a name on it, I’d call it . . . anger?
    Why would I be angry that my mom