My angel.
As I watch my precious girl sleep, I can’t imagine that someone so sweet could be the daughter of such a mean woman. I want to have a child with Tori one day, and the love I feel for just the thought of that precious being fills me.
Surely there is some love between every child and their parent.
Tori’s mom can’t be all that bad, can she?
* * *
Victoria
I’ve got the rock of my dreams on my finger and the man of my dreams in my arms. Now I just have to sit back and watch as my mother ruins it all with her bitterness.
I can’t believe she’s tracked me down, no doubt to try to cash in on my good fortune of becoming a Bachman. I’m sure as soon as the news of our engagement got back to my tiny hometown, my mother had dollar signs in her eyes as big as the balance on her credit card statements.
I wasn’t even planning on inviting her to the wedding.
Now I’ve got an uninvited house guest at our apartment. For a week. Of hell.
The worst part?
I can’t bear the thought of sharing Luke, even for a second. I’m already picturing her, prancing around in jeans too tight, the neckline of her shirt too low, trying to garner the attentions of a billionaire of her own.
Or worse, flirt with mine.
It’s dampening my mood, robbing me of the joy I should be experiencing with my engagement and wedding planning. So much so that I’m wondering if Luke was right when he suggested we not have her come at all. Despite all the pain she’s caused me, I just can’t be mean back. It’s not in my nature.
Back home, I once hit a bunny with my car. I couldn’t sleep for three nights. That’s the type of person I am.
No match whatsoever for my mother’s selfish ways and stinging words.
Since Luke put a ring on my finger, he’s insisted I stop working, focusing only on wedding plans and anything else that will make me happy. I can’t believe my life. I wake in his arms, kiss him goodbye, then dine and shop and plan all day while he works.
In the evenings, we eat together at our tiny kitchen table, two candles lighting our faces.
And then there’s my entrance into the tribe I’ve admired for so long.
When you’re a child, once in a while an event will be looming in your future and you look forward to it so much that you can’t sleep; it’s all you think about. Then the magical event finally comes, and it’s a total letdown because it can never, ever live up to the expectation you created in your mind.
Not this.
Being a Beauty is everything I dreamed it would be. Friendships form effortlessly, the women taking me into their fold, making me one of their own. Having our unique lifestyles in common seems to be a sort of quick drying bonding glue that brings us together.
Charlotte and I spend twice as much time with one another now that I’m not working. We sip coffees, staring over pages and pages of glossy wedding books.
I’m invited to their weekly Girls’ Night Out in the city. We dress up, go out to dinner at a fancy restaurant, then take in a movie, or go to a Broadway play. All the while, talking and laughing, sharing secrets.
It’s the life I’ve dreamed of.
So why is there this putrid feeling in my gut, gnawing at me day and night, telling me that when my mother arrives, they’ll all see me for what I really am—a nobody whose own mother wanted nothing to do with her?
She’s going to ruin my life.
Again.
Chapter Fourteen
Luke
Tori wasn’t exaggerating; her mother is a monster. And it’s not even like she’s one of those ‘oh, poor dear, she’s had a hard life’ women you could at least feel sorry for. ‘Mags,’ as she calls herself, is just plain mean.
And terribly dressed. The clothes she wears would be inappropriate for a teen and certainly shouldn’t be in her closet. If I get one more flash of her silicone, beach ball breasted cleavage, I’m going to vomit.
I tried to like her.
For Tori’s sake, I tried to be cordial, not wanting to make the visit any more painful than it already was.
But everyone has a line. And I have the feeling she’s going to cross mine, very soon.
We’ve had to put off our move to the Village, since Mags isn’t allowed to stay there. She was supposed to stay at our apartment, but to spare Tori the pain, I’ve put Mags up in a hotel and set her up with a driver to keep her out of our space as much as possible.
We’ve taken her to dinner every night. She’s made a habit of ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. Requesting a bottle of wine, then keeping it all to herself.
We’ve taken her to plays, museums, parks. Hit all the hotspots in town. She complains of the crowds, the weather, the noise, the traffic.
We just have to get through one more dinner, then she’ll go back to her hotel and in the morning my driver will return her home. Mags will be gone and out of our lives. Of course, she’s assuming she’ll be returning for our upcoming nuptials. She’s already mentioned the seven hundred dollar a night hotel she’s hoping to stay at.
I haven’t told Tori yet, but I’m going to put my foot down. This woman will not be at our wedding. Or in our lives.
Tori is a shell of herself around her mom. Her eyes are sad, and in those beautiful sea-colored pools, I see a little girl who longs to be loved.
She’s quiet, withdrawn. Unhappy.
And I can’t stand to see my baby girl unhappy. It breaks my heart and after this visit, I won’t allow it to continue. Good riddance, bon voyage, au revoir, sala kahle. However, you want to say it; goodbye, Mags. Forever.
We’re meeting her at Carabat’s, the restaurant in her hotel, the very same one where Tori told Jet she only had eyes for me, the memory making it my favorite place to eat.
Tori and I arrived thirty minutes before her mother is supposed to meet us so I can get at least one glass of wine in my fiancée before the monster-in-law shows up.
We’re chatting, laughing, drinking, enjoying ourselves as we always do when it’s just us. Mags enters the room, instantly casting a shadow over Tori’s face. My beautiful little girl slumps back in her chair.
Anger rises in my heart.
I remind myself that it’s only one more night, I can do this.
I stand, offering a stiff smile. “Mags! How’s this for your last meal in the city?” And I do mean the very last meal I will ever be purchasing for her.
She glances around, turning her thin nose up in the air. “A restaurant in a hotel lobby? Not exactly my idea of a sendoff, but I guess it will do.”
She takes a seat, her gray eyes cutting to her daughter. “Sit up, Victoria. Don’t slouch.”
Tori sits up a little taller in her chair, releasing a small sigh. “Hi, Mom.”
“I see you’ve already been drinking without me. I guess I’ll have to catch up.” She holds her hand in the air, snapping her fingers to get the waiter’s attention; a move I’m guessing she picked up from one of the old black and white romance movies Tori said she’s obsessed with. She calls out, “Can I get a glass, here?”
Mortified, Tori slumps back down in her chair. I fill her glass of wine to the brim, giving her a reassuring smile. I silently mouth the words, “One more night.”
She shoots me a look of relief, smiles, and takes a huge sip from her glass.
The waiter scurries over with a third wineglass, and I fill it for Mags. “What shall we eat tonight, ladies? Do you want to share some tapas plates?”
She rolls her eyes. “Tapas? Stingy much? I’m having the filet.”
I swear, this woman is trying to collect a dowry for her daughter’s hand through the many purchases she’s made at my expense this week.
I smile. “Of course you are. And you, my love? What will you be having?”
Tori squirms in her seat. “I’m not that hungry. I’ll just have a salad.”
She’s trying to compensate for her mom’s overspending by ordering the
cheapest thing on the menu. I put my hand over hers. “I’ll get you a dish of that chicken pasta you like. You can just eat what you want, and we’ll take home the rest.”
Daddy understands her lack of desire to eat, but I also keep a close eye on my girl to make sure she’s not withering away this week, her appetite often spoiled by her mother’s outrageous behavior.
And I’ve told Tori time and time again this week—the money means nothing to me without having her at my side to spend it on. And that generosity extends to her family.
Or did, at least, until this woman pissed me off to no end.
Tori shoots me a look of gratitude. “Thank you.”
The attention being off of her for two seconds, Mags interjects herself into our conversation. “Victoria, what are you going to serve at the wedding? Don’t tell me you’re going to do fish or chicken. That’s so tacky. You have to do steak. Expensive steak. And many courses.”
Tori cringes. “Mom, you know that Bachman weddings are private, just for the family. The afterparty for people back home will just be a small gathering. Maybe even just dinner at a restaurant.”
Her mother barks, “Nonsense! You have to have a second, public wedding. It has to be huge. You can do your little vow ceremony in the Village, but then we have to have a proper wedding. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere so grand the town will talk about it for years to come!”
Tori asks, “For who, Mom?”
Her mom cries, “What do you mean? For you, of course! Don’t you want a real wedding, with a reception and a sit-down dinner? Drinks, dancing, a band?”
Tori shakes her head. “No. I just want to marry Luke.”
Mags huffs. “You never did have any taste for a party, did you? Just a quiet little mouse, keeping to herself, reading in her room.” Rolling her eyes, she dismisses Tori with a wave of her hand, then goes for the wine.
Turning her unwanted attentions to me, Mags asks, “What do you envision, Luke? You have a big family. Surely you won’t rob your mother of the opportunity to see you wed.”
I shrug. “My mom just wants me to be happy.”
She waggles her finger in the air. “No mom just wants their kid to be happy. She might say that but trust me, the second you told her you were getting married, her very next thought was of what dress she was going to wear as the mother of the groom.”
Holding in a laugh, I say, “I don’t think so.”
Ignoring us, she goes on with her monologue, one that’s for her benefit only. “Well, anyway, there has to be an event. One that will put the other girls back home’s weddings to shame. You are marrying a billionaire, after all; you have to look the part.”
Tori murmurs, “I’m not marrying a billionaire—I’m marrying Luke.”
She laughs, “Oh, Victoria, this is all such a waste on you! You don’t even know how to dress, or spend money, or even enjoy yourself. I swear, I should have been the one to nab a Bachman.”
A waste on her?
Just because Tori’s not sucking me dry of every penny, choosing to love me and the company of the Beauties above material things?
Again, I hold my tongue.
I’ve gotten very good at it over the past few days as Mags gives me more than enough chances to practice.
Knowing Mags going to do that painful snapping thing again, I smile, taunting, “Shall we order?”
It’s a mean joke, but Mags falls for it, lifting her fingers in the air once more, trying to get the attention of our waiter by snapping and calling out, “Can we order over here, please?”
Tori cringes, making me regret my decision.
We place our orders. Have a second bottle of wine brought out. Chat about our visit.
Mags whines about not getting to see enough of the city. Having no time or money to shop Fifth Avenue as she would have liked. I smile, knowing we’re only hours away from never seeing her again. I drink my wine, reveling in the knowledge that she’ll soon be gone, half listening as she drones on and on, until Mags ends her complaining session with, “So, I’ve decided to stay another week.”
My cabernet catches in my throat. “What did you say?”
She gives me a smirky smile, “I said I’ll be staying another week. That won’t be a problem, will it? I’ve already told the hotel to put it on your tab.”
Tori turns to me, horror reflecting in her irises. “Mom, you can’t do that without asking Luke. That’s not your money. Besides—we have things we need to do next week.”
She snorts. “Like what? Get your nails done?”
Tori says, “No. We’re moving to the Village. I have to pack.”
Mags waves a hand in the air. “I’ll help you. Besides, don’t you pay people to do that kind of thing now?”
Tori shakes her head. “No. I still do things myself.”
Her mother snorts. “I told you—this life is a total waste on you. Why, oh, why did my mousey little girl get to be a Bachman and I’m left wasting the rest of my life in that stupid little town? No matter. After the wedding, I think I’ll be relocating. I’ve found a nice little condo complex right in the heart of Manhattan. Luke, you’ll be a dear and put down the deposit, won’t you?”
I see red.
I also see Tori, desperately looking at the floor, hoping a black hole will open up and swallow her.
Daddy has heard quite enough. My patience is gone. I’ve played nice, thinking that keeping the peace was the best thing for Tori.
I was wrong.
I ask Mags, “Do you have your purse with you?”
“Yes. Why?” She fills her glass back up, to the top, emptying the bottle of the last of the two-hundred-dollar wine she ordered. Lifting her hand and snapping her fingers, she calls, “Yoo-hoo! Can we get another over here?”
Slipping my cell from my pocket, I quickly send messages. My eyes on the screen of my phone, I ask, “Is your house key in there?”
Mags says, “Um, yes. Why?”
I look up from the screen, giving her my most angelic smile. “Good. So, you have everything you need to leave right now?”
Dismay lines her face. “But... I’m not due to leave until tomorrow, and like I told you, I’m extending my stay. Victoria, what’s he talking about?”
Tori shrinks back in her chair, looking worriedly at her mother.
Standing from my chair, I go to Tori’s side. Hand on her shoulder, I lean down and whisper into her ear, “Just relax. Daddy’s got you.”
Mags demands, “What are you talking about?”
I reply. “Change of plans. I just texted my driver. He’ll take you back home now. I’ve got the hotel packing the rest of your belongings and we’ll make sure those get to you, too.” I gesture toward the exit.
Mags looks from me to Tori, then back to me. “What do you mean by this? I’m going to be your mother-in-law, your family, and. you’re kicking me out? This is an outrage. Victoria, tell him.”
Tori is suddenly filled with grit. She says, “Mom, you kicked me out the day I turned eighteen, and I haven’t heard from you since. Until, that is, you heard I was marrying Luke, a Bachman and a billionaire. Then you came running.”
“That’s not true! I lost your number, that’s all. As soon as I heard my little girl was getting married, I came right away to help you. To be with you and support you. To help you plan the wedding of your dreams.”
I say, “She’s my little girl now. And with the help of her new friends to plan the wedding, I don’t think we’ll be needing any from you.”
Tori looks at her mother with a newfound confidence. Her eyes are made of steel as she says, “I don’t think there will be a public reception, after all. This will be a Bachman-only event.”
Mags sits back in her seat, momentarily speechless. Once again, she looks from me to Tori, then back to me. Finally, she says, “Well, I’ve never been so mistreated in my life. How incredibly rude and selfish and—”
Cutting her off, I ask, “Would you like me to escort you to the car, or can you find you
r way there?”
Reading between the lines, she opts out of security dragging her ass out of this restaurant in front of everyone. Huffing with anger, like a teakettle boiling over, she stands from her chair. “Have it your way. But if I leave now, this is the last you’ll see of me.”
Good riddance.
I give her a nod. “So lovely to meet you, Mags. Goodbye, and good luck.”
Tori says, “Bye, Mom.”
She gives us both one last look of searing indignation and marches away.
Hopefully never to be seen again.
I don’t care who may be watching. I sit back down in my chair. I take Tori into my arms and sit her on my lap. Wrapping my arms around her, I smooth down her hair, whispering, “I’m your family now. You never have to see that dreaded woman again. Let Daddy take care of you, baby girl.”
She curls up against my chest, nodding through her silent tears. “Thank you, Daddy.”
I kiss her lips.
When she’s recovered from the ugly scene, we dine on pasta and salad, and devour the filet that sits unclaimed on the table.
We raise our glasses in a toast.
To new beginnings.
* * *
Victoria
The day of the wedding is finally here. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so nervous and excited all at once. I can’t wait to say our vows, exchange our wedding bands, then to take on the family name.
But I’m most excited to have his sword around my neck.
When a Bachman man pledges to lay down his life for his bride, he hangs a necklace around her neck—a charm in the shape of a dagger to represent his willingness to lose his life for hers.
Then we will be husband and wife in the eyes of the law, and the mafia. And Luke—my God, do I love calling that man Daddy, but husband has a kind of forever sound ring to it that I crave inside my soul.
After my mother left, I was surprised to find myself unencumbered by guilt. It was as if a boulder of self-doubt was lifted from my shoulders, leaving me free and happy, and ready to start my new life. Wanting to forget the old one completely, I focused on the wedding.
Say Daddy: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Page 14
