It’s her way of telling me that she’s got three months’ worth of events to ambush me with more of her future daughter-in-law candidates. It’s my mother’s version of a threat. She doesn’t come right out and tell me she’s going to drive me insane over the next few months trying to set me up with a date at every social event we attend, but I know her and she doesn’t give up that easily.

“There’s an actual season for dry cake and misery?” I ask, deadpan, then take another sip of my whiskey.

She ignores my jab.

“I know you’re working on Voltaire Telecom and the importance of that acquisition is not lost on me, but you need to find balance. Besides, it might do you some good to have a woman on your arm at business dinners. I sat alongside your father for thirty-five years, so trust me, I know how it works.”

I hum around a sip of my whiskey. I know she’s right in some respects, but I refuse to give her any encouragement.

“Tessa Green. She’s thirty and a lawyer with Cooper Stanley Williams. She’s smart and beautiful. The least you can do is meet her for lunch. I’ll have Chloe set it up.”

At the mention of my mother’s assistant, the muscles in my shoulders tense. It’s an automatic response. Chloe Anderson tests my limits with every encounter. She’s been my mother’s assistant for two years, and though I rarely see her, my mind easily conjures her image. Her fiery red hair always pulled up into a knot on her head, allowing access to her slender neck. Those crystal blue eyes, which I find on most occasions pinning me with a disapproving glare, are other worldly. For every inch her petite frame is lacking, she makes up for it in snark and bite. She’s a pint-sized human carrying out my mother’s agenda, which on occasion, like setting up blind dates, only makes my life more difficult.

The fact that my mother would request for her to set up a reservation for a lunch date that I have no interest in going on only fuels my dislike for her. It’s unwarranted, but nonetheless, it’s my only defense mechanism at this point.

“I’m sure Tessa is a nice woman, but I’m not taking her to lunch. My calendar is already full with business meetings.”

She hums her disapproval. It’s a trait we share, apparently.

“Have it your way, Barrett.”

It’s a parting shot. A warning that this discussion and her plan to set me up with every fertile woman she runs into isn’t over.

She smiles sweetly before leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. I watch as her retreating back is swallowed into the crowd of gowns and tuxedos.