Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

LINCOLN

“Where to Mr. Hughes?” Laurence, my driver, asks me while putting my luggage in the trunk.

“To my parent’s house please.”

“Very well, sir.” Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I lean back against the seat and try to decompress. I have been in London since the morning after November’s meltdown due to an overseas emergency with our distribution company. I hated leaving the country with the situation unresolved in her fair, but I vowed to myself to handle it as soon as I was back, and that time has come. November being upset over something that can be handled is unacceptable, and I won’t allow it.

Before my plane took off this morning, I called my love and checked in. I reminded her I loved her, and she said the same. She didn’t sound herself, but I can't say for sure without being able to look at her. Once I spoke with her, I phoned my parents and had her let my mother know I was stopping by to have a conversation with her. Lord forbid it was an impromptu visit.

Pulling up to the house, I wait for Laurence to open the door before walking up the steps and ringing the bell. “Good morning, Mr. Hughes. May I take your jacket?” Helen, my mother’s maid, asks.

“Yes. Thank you.” I hand it to her and follow her inside.

“Can I get you a beverage? Coffee, perhaps?” Yeah, that is probably not a good idea. That shot of espresso the barista onboard the plane shoved at me is still working its way through me.

“Water would be good.” Nodding, she walks away after instructing me to head to the parlor. I hear muffled voices from the other side of the door, and I was surprised to think my father was also home. I knock and wait for permission to enter.

Opening the door, I am surprised to not see my father with my mother but Karen instead. “Son. You look well,” Mom says, giving me her hand to kiss before her cheek.

“As do you, mother. Karen.” I acknowledge her with a nod ahead. I don’t miss the slight pinch of her face. I assume she expected something else in the greeting, but I can’t tell you. “Mother, did you forget I was coming by?”

“No, of course not. It was mere hours ago you had the message delivered to me.”

“I see. Well, I am sure I mentioned it needed to be talked to you. It was a private matter.” Her smile fools no one, and neither does the underhandedness of her choice.

“Well, I invited Karen because I assume it is wedding details, and she is an event planner.” My temple begins to throb because she is raising my blood pressure. I unbutton the top of my shirt, about to tell her just that, when she thwarts me. “As a matter of fact, she was just telling me how she received this last-minute invitation to some event or another that she can’t turn down but now, she’s in a rush trying to find a date. I suggested you might escort her.” she announces this like it is a fact she has announced and decided. What the fuck is she playing at?

She is saved momentarily by the arrival of Helen with my water. I rip it from her hands, open it, and chug it down, willing myself to remain calm. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Karen begin to fidget, perhaps rethinking her choice to align with my mother. Everyone knows I am unpredictable when pushed. My mother, no shocker, is holding steadfast as she has reigned over everything for far too long. Well, too bad for her. I plan on tearing that monarchy down quickly.

Her high-handed attitude and the bravado she is displaying right is pissing me off, and I am done with it. Standing up, I slam the bottle on the desk, march over to her, and grab her by her arm, pulling her toward the door.

“Lincoln! What is the meaning of this? I would kindly like for you to release my arm this instant.” She tries to posture in front of her guest. Ignoring her demand, I pull her into the hallway and talk as low and precise as possible.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, mother, but this shit stops now. November is my fiancée, and she is going to be my wife. She is the love of my life and will be my children's mother. You are either going to get on board or miss the train.”

“As you wish, son, but there are people we need to invite to increase our status in this society.” Of course. It's always about status.

“Very well. Have your assistant send it to mine, and my woman and I will decide.” With that, I turn and walk away. I don’t miss the scoff behind my back, and it has me wondering, what else have I missed?