Seventy Shades Of Steele

Seventy Shades Of Steele(21)

*Angelina's POV*

"Well that weekend went great," I state, glancing at him as he shrugs with his focus directed solely on his laptop. "Your parents are actually great."

"Uh-huh," he answers and I turn to glare at him as I sip from my glass of champagne. I swear this thing is getting to my head, making me bolder. Because I don't know what else to blame for asking what I asked next.

"What's the deal with you and your mother?" I see him tense even from under his expensive suit. He can't even take off his jacket. You'll think he is in some business meeting. Or lived in the thing. "It really put a damper on the reunion."

"It isn't a reunion," he answers back, still not looking at me. He does finally touch his glass of whiskey and half melted ice and gulp it down. I watch in fascination. He drank it all in one gulp, although drinking it is a stretch for him. This must be a real uncomfortable thing to talk about and really has nothing to do with me. Somehow that makes it all the more tempting to know. "It's a way for my parents to spread gossip and create more. It's more of a social gathering. Something they enjoy."

"You still haven't answered my question," I state, not letting it go. It's unknown territory and I want to know. I mean, it isn't like I have anything else to do. "So what's the beef between you and your mother? Aren't sons supposed to be close to their mothers?"

"Leave it alone, Angie," he grits out and I finally back up. Fine then. Be that way. He sighs leaning back into his comfortable leather seat, probably realizing by my abrupt silence that I am not happy. "I was never mama's boy, okay? Leave it be, rehashing things isn't my specialty."

"Are we ever?" He finally turns to look at me and I continue to drain my glass, putting it back down on the table to refill it. Deciding against drinking it until we land or something, I begin tracing my fingers up and down that stem. The urge to just chug it is very much tempting. Maybe I will. "I mean, unless you are some archaeologist or historian rehashing someone else's life, I don't think anyone is ever comfortable rehashing up their past. That's why it is always with someone who you have a certain level of trust and respect for in order to do that."

"Well, yeah I guess, but I am not in the mood," he says, looking back at his laptop or Chromebook, whatever they call them. "Now entertain yourself."

"That's just it," I groan and I see his eyebrows raise. Not sure if it is at me or something on the laptop or whatever. "I am bored. I feel as if I should be talking with you or something. I am curious."

"Feel like talking?" He then stretches out his hand towards me, handing me a phone. I stare at him confused as I take it from him. He then slams a book on the desk in front of me. I cough even though it isn't dusty. Rather the opposite, but I suspect my body just automatically thought it was a great idea to cough now. "I want you to call everyone of the contacts in that book and set up meetings between next week and the end of next month. Each meeting lasting no longer than an hour. Now work your charm."

The book looks small, but being the owner of a book similar like this before, I know it can hold a lot of content which will take longer than the hour or less we have on the plane. But oh well. Sure to keep me occupied.

"Don't you have a personal assistant or something to do this?" I inquire as I open the book and start to punch in numbers.

He shrugs. "She has some emergency back home and I sent her on her way," he informs me and I nod. "I haven't found anyone worthy enough to do such a job and who I can trust to do it properly. Now just set up meetings and write the date and time under the names."