UberG#sm by Bester Tamsyn & Ash Robin & Giannoccaro Ashleigh

Author:Bester, Tamsyn & Ash, Robin & Giannoccaro , Ashleigh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

OAKLEY

Bash is on the balcony when I’m done getting dressed. I step outside to join him but stop short when I realize he’s on the phone. Only this time, I’m not worried that it’s another woman. My own phone starts to ring, and I frown at the unknown number. By now, I would have expected another call from Charity, asking where I am. I’m glad she hasn’t, otherwise I’d have to tell her Channing had to courier Magnolia’s backup wedding gown.

“This is Oakley,” I answer. I get queries about and bookings for wedding dresses all the time, and I never know if it’s a new client or not. So I keep things professional.

“Oakley, dear, this is Carrigan Flynn speaking. Sebastian’s mother.”

I pause; why on Earth would Bash’s mother be calling me?

“Uh, Hi, Mrs. Flynn. How can I help you?” I’m not sure how else to answer, and I don’t want to be rude. If her husband is chummy with my father, chances are Carrigan is part of his and Charity’s group of friends. Magnolia might not care about appearances, but I have a professional reputation to maintain. And I’m an Addington. Can’t forget that.

Social etiquette and graces may have bypassed my stepmother and Magnolia, but it certainly didn’t skip me. “I know we haven’t officially met yet, and I’m sorry to bother you. I got your number from one of Bash’s friends, Kingston.” I run through the mental Rolodex of clients in my head.

“I know her,” I reply, dumbly. Because seriously, what do I say to Bash’s mother? As for Kingston, she’s a client. I’m in the beginning stages of making her wedding gown. The fact that she knows Bash is something I’ll address another time.

“I hope that’s okay, dear. I’m actually trying to reach my son; his phone always seems to be engaged. Would you mind terribly if I speak to him?” I get a hint of Bash’s breeding when his mother speaks and add it to the few puzzle pieces I have regarding who Bash really is.

“Of course,” I tell her. “I’ll get him for you.”

I turn back toward the balcony and find that Bash has finished talking to whoever called him. I clear my throat, and he spins, smiling at me. My belly somersaults. “It’s your mother. She wants to speak to you.”

He scratches his chin, which is now covered in a bit more than a five o’clock shadow. “Why’d she call you?” I try not to take offense to how he says you, as if the notion of his mother calling me is ridiculous.

“You were busy on another call, and she’s been trying to reach you.”

He takes the phone from my hand and presses it to his ear. “Hi, Mom.”

I step back into the room to give them privacy, but my curiosity wins out. I hide next to the curtain, and while I despise eavesdropping of any kind, I can’t help myself. Bash looks behind him, probably to make sure I’m not listening, and fortunately, he doesn’t see me.

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