Reborn to Love Mr. Right novel · Chapter 16 of 24

Chapter 16: Sunday in Greenwich

Wyatt's mother opened the door of the stone house herself, looked at me, and didn't move out of the way.

She was tall and silver-blonde, in a navy sweater and very good flats.

She had Wyatt's stillness exactly.

"Mom," Wyatt said beside me.

"I know who she is," his mother said.

Behind her, down a long hall, Maisie's voice came floating out of the kitchen.

"Is that them? Don't be scary, Mom! I'm bringing bread!"

His mother kept looking at me.

"You're the girl who wrote to the dean," she said. "Sophomore year."

"Yes," I said.

"Annabel Townsend."

"Yes."

"I drove up to Bellmont the week they took his name off that board," she said. "He told me not to come. I came anyway."

"He wouldn't say one word against you. Not one. Do you know how that felt to watch?"

Wyatt said, "Mom," again, more quietly.

I didn't look at him.

This wasn't his to fix.

"No," I said. "I don't. I'd like to hear it, if you'll tell me."

Something flickered in her face.

Then she stepped back from the door.

"Lunch is at one," she said. "You may as well come in."

The table was long and old and scarred, in a dining room with windows over a gray-green lawn that ran down to the water.

Wyatt's father was already sitting at the end of it, reading the paper with his glasses on his forehead.

He was big and rumpled and nothing like the man I'd pictured running billions.

He folded the paper, looked at me over it, and held out a hand without getting up.

"You're the one who got my son to lay hands on a fraternity president in public," he said.

"He only moved the hand," I said. "Like a coat off a chair."

"Pity," said his father. "Sit down. Maisie, stop hovering."

"I'm not hovering, I'm carrying bread."

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