“I...Yes...Yes...” She shut her eyes and her body writhed underneath mine, climaxing at the exact same second as me. She shook for several seconds, and I let myself slowly fall on top of her.

We lay entwined for what felt like forever—gazing into each other’s eyes, smiling every few seconds, laughing at nothing at all.

After we’d checked out of the Ritz Carlton this morning, I’d decided to give her a tour of another one of my yachts—one of the ones I hadn’t sailed in a while. The tour only lasted two minutes though; we never made it past the bedroom.

“Am I hurting you?” I felt her trying to move her shoulder.

“A little.” She laughed and I rolled off of her.

I pulled her into my arms so we were face to face and sighed. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Nothing...”

“Your eyes give you away all the time.” I smiled. “That’s how I know when you’re lying to me.”

“I can talk to you about anything, right?”

“Of course you can.” I kissed her. “I don’t want any boundaries between us.”

She nodded and lay there silently, not saying another word.

“That wasn’t a question that led into another question?” I tried to read her eyes.

She laughed. “Not really...I just wanted to know.”

“Hmmm. Would you mind going to dinner with me and my mom next weekend?”

“You two are on good terms now?” She raised her eyebrow.

“I don’t know...I walked out on our last therapy session, so I wouldn’t necessarily say good terms...”

“You don’t think you can have dinner without arguing with her?”

Not unless you’re there...“I would just feel more comfortable if you came with me. That’s all.”

She smiled and moved closer to me. “Okay. I’ll come.”

“If you fuck this dinner up, I will never forgive you.” I drove my car into the turnaround and looked over at my mother. “Do you understand me?”

“What are you talking about, Jonathan? And watch how you talk to me. I’m still your mother... How can I possibly mess up a dinner?”

“You’ve messed up everything else in my life. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

She looked hurt. “You’re never going to forgive me for the past are you? Are you ever going to get over it?”

I didn’t answer her. I waited for the valet to walk up to my window and handed him the keys. “Let’s go.”

The last few therapy sessions we’d had were nothing like the ones we had before; they were brutal. I’d walked out on her three times because I refused to buy into her “I don’t really remember that happening” bullshit. I felt like she was copping out and not being completely honest. The only reason I even agreed to a dinner with her was because the therapist said we needed to try something new.

In fact, I almost called the dinner off until Claire encouraged me to go through with it. She thought I needed to give my mother a second chance since this was the longest she’d ever been clean.

I walked over to my mother’s side and helped her out of the car. I linked her arm in mine and walked inside the restaurant.

“Mr. Statham,” the hostess said, “your other guest has already arrived. Shall I take you to the table first or to the gallery room?”

“The table.”

“Right this way.” She led us onto an elevator and up to the top level. She walked us past a packed room of patrons and into an empty room with one table in the center of the floor.

My eyes quickly veered towards Claire. She was standing near the windows in a dark gray gown that perfectly accentuated her sexy curves. She must have heard us enter, because she immediately turned around and smiled at me.

I walked over to the table and pulled out her chair. “You look stunning tonight.” I kissed the nape of her neck.

“Thank you...”  She sat down.

“I agree.” My mother nodded as I pulled out her chair next. “You’re a vision, sweetheart.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Statham.”

A waiter came over and cleared his throat. “Good evening ladies, Mr. Statham. Would you like to start off with our signature wine for the night, or would like to order something more unique?”

“My date and I will be having the signature wine. Mrs. Statham,” I said as I looked at my mother, “will be having your best juice.” I caught her rolling her eyes.

“Very well sir.” He sauntered off.

I was about to strike up a conversation, but a different waiter came over and set down our drinks—just that quickly. He politely went over the chef’s menu for the night and made suggestions, practically ordering the food for us.

When he walked away, I cleared my throat. “How was your day today, mother?”

“It was pretty good...They let me run the shop by myself. They’re going to let me choose the new treatments for the windows tomorrow. I already know what kind I want to get.”

“What type is that?” Claire asked.

“Woven bamboo shades. One of our customers told me that they would make the place look more authentic, so I think I’m going to take the advice.”

“Yellow or brown?” Claire raised her eyebrow.

“Brown.” My mother sipped her juice. “The walls in the shop are all painted in earth tones so it’ll match better.”

I put my arm around Claire’s shoulders. “I guess I need to start paying attention to those HGTV shows...”

“That makes two of us.” My mother shook her head. “So Claire, what do you do at Statham Industries?”

“I’m a marketing director. I oversee the slogans and artwork for promotional campaigns.”

“Did you do any work for the sPhone blue? Those commercials are beyond beautiful.”

I smiled. “She did.” I listened as my mother talked about her inability to work anything my company produced, as she and Claire talked about their favorite books; I’d somehow forgotten that my mother was a huge literature fan before she got hooked on drugs.

The waiters discreetly refilled our glasses and brought out the courses one by one.

I was in the middle of tasting the chef’s mushroom risotto when I noticed Claire scrolling away on her phone. “Who are you texting?”

“Ashley and Caroline...I swear they think every time I go out is an opportunity to borrow my car...I’m just going to give in and buy them separate cars for their birthday. They do deserve it...”

“I’ll help you pick the cars out.” I squeezed her hand. And I’ll buy them...

“You have daughters?” My mother smiled. She seemed like she was actually trying to make this dinner go smoothly. “How old are they?”

“They’re sixteen...”

“Wow, twins? I have a friend in my therapy group with twins. She swears they’re a handful, but I think it’s because they’re fraternal. A boy and a girl going through puberty at the same time? That’s got to be rough.”

We all laughed.

The hostess from downstairs walked over to our table. “Excuse me,” she said. “I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner, but the gallery room is only going to be open for one more hour. Would you like to take a tour now? In keeping with the artist’s vision, the women start on one side of the gallery and the men start on the other. It enhances the experience.”

“I’d love to.” My mother stood up. “What about you, Claire?”

“Yeah, it sounds great. I’ll come right after I finish my dessert.” She smiled.

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, you don’t have to.” Claire shook her head. “I’ll be down in five minutes max.”

My mom looked at me with a glance that said “I’m really trying here...” and I smiled at her. I was shocked at how well she’d behaved herself tonight; I didn’t think things could have gone any better.

As the hostess escorted my mom downstairs, I looked over at Claire. “Thank you so much for coming, tonight. It really means a lot to me.”

“You’re more than welcome. I think you two are going to be okay in the long run.”

“Let’s hope so. Hurry up and finish your dessert. I want us to see the gallery.”