The House Always Wins - 38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

Olivia didn't speak until we were indeed airborne. By then, I was almost out of my mind with panic.

"Dear boy," she started to speak, "don't you think it's time that we stopped this charade?"

"What? I don't understand..." I began, but she held up her hand.

"I want to know one thing, and one thing only." Her eyes fixed on mine as she leaned forward, taking my hands. "Do you really love my son?"

"Of course," I replied automatically.

"Don't give me the answer that you're paid to give me," she said, her gaze stern.

"Sorry?" I said, "What do you mean?"
She let go of my hands and sat back, glancing out of the window; clouds rushed by outside the jet.

"I know all about you, Jason. I know my son has hired you to throw me off."
It was like someone had opened the cabin door - the air was sucked out of me with explosive decompression; oh shit!

"How..."

"Do you remember walking in on a fight between Michael and myself, a few weeks ago?"
I nodded, remembering the uncomfortable moment.

"He never told you what it was about, did he?"

"No..."

"I found your diary." My heart simply stopped. Well, it felt like that, anyway. "It was the day after you went to the Grand Canyon. You asked me to go fetch your laptop..."
She paused for a few seconds. "When I went to retrieve it, I saw this book, sticking out of a pile of clothes. I...took it."

"Olivia..."

"I read a little, the first two pages. But it was enough. I confronted my son later that day. He admitted to all of it."

"You knew?" I spoke, barely above the sound of the jet's engines. "All this time?"
She nodded.

"Yes. I knew. I know."

"But...why...?"

"Why didn't I say anything? Because he asked me not to."
Say what now?

"I know what you must think, Jason. Hear me out, please. Do you need a glass of water?"
I shook my head.

"Very well. I will ask the steward to bring it anyway."
She pressed the button in the armrest and the steward came, took the request, left, and returned with a glass of water, handing it to me. I took it.

"As I said, he told me the full story. He was tired of me playing matchmaker and lied about the one he supposedly met. That he hired you to play his boyfriend. I know everything."
I nodded and took a deep breath.

"You don't have to continue, Olivia. I get it."
I did. I knew exactly what this was all about, and where it was going.

"Do you?" she asked.

"I may be a fraud but I’m not some idiot. It's obvious enough, luring me on board; you want me gone. I assure you that once this plane has landed, you'll never see me again. Neither will Michael."

Nor would I see my backpack again; it was still sitting in the car, a hundred miles behind us by now! I had nothing, except the clothes on my back. Even less than I had started out with. Oh man...still, it was worth it. Meeting Michael, falling for him; there were people less lucky in the world.

"Which brings me back to my original question," she said. "Do you really, truly, love my son?"

"That's a moot question now, don't you think?" I replied.

"I don't think so, no."

"It doesn't matter what I feel, Olivia. It never has."

I muttered the last, more to myself, but she heard it.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course it does. Now quit stalling and tell me that you truly love my son."

"Fine! Yes!" I said, sighing, giving in. Jeez! "I really love him."
At that, she leaned forward and grabbed my hands again, seeking my gaze.

"Oh, you sweetheart; why don’t you ask for his love? You certainly have the right for it. My, if I were you, I’d demand it.”

"But...it's impossible for me to go back."

"Explain that to me; I don’t follow..."

"If word got out what I am, he would be the laughing stock of Las Vegas. It would hurt the hotel and the casino."

"And what exactly are you?" She asked.

"A hired illusion."

"Is it an illusion?" I nodded. Of course it was. "I see. And sleeping with him was also an illusion?" It was an understatement to say that it made me uncomfortable to speak with a mother about that; be it Michael's, or anyone else's, for that matter. I looked away, feeling my face flush at being confronted about it by her. "I'm very sorry to embarrass you, Jason. But sleeping with my son was not a requirement. Yet you did. That was not an illusion. That was real; is real. I just told you; you have the right. That is how I see it, and that is how Michael sees it. I know he does."

"How do you know all this?" I asked, blushing.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm old, not stupid. I have ears. I have eyes. I didn't need you or Michael to tell me what was going on. You played your part very well, I have to say that."
I stared at her.

"So all this time..."

"He's also told me something else. He told me that you had admitted to loving him. And once you had, he realized that he had begun to develop feelings for you as well. He mentioned love, a word I haven’t heard him utter in years, but he had no idea how he should handle that; how to handle you." She laughed softly. "In business he's as sharp as a knife but over this...my son is like any other man with matters of the heart; a flailing fool."
I felt a little dizzy, but it might have been the altitude, or something to do with the air filters. Olivia seemed to be fine, though.

"And you didn't make it easy on him. You've caused quite a few problems as far as his sanity was concerned."

"Glad I could be of any assistance," I said sourly.
Olivia cackled at that.

"You have no idea. He didn't know how to approach you. He said one thing while wanting to say another; he kept saying the wrong things. And you were as unpredictable as the weather, or so he says. When you didn't speak to him for two days? He felt miserable the whole time."

"Did you know why I did that?"

"I had an idea about why, yes. He asked you to stay, did he not?"

"Yes," I answered, nodding. She thought for a moment; I could practically see her shrewd mind working at full speed. Then a corner of her mouth lifted up. "Ahh, but he didn't tell you what you wanted to hear, did he; that he loves you?"
I just nodded again and looked out the window. If he’d said it...Just once...once would’ve been enough and I’d have never left.

"He didn't want to scare you off, Jason. That's what happened with Simon, and he's been so careful with you, perhaps a bit too careful. I can assure you, though; my son does love you."

"He does?" I didn't want to sound insecure, but I couldn't help it.

"Jason, dear sweetheart, I’m his mother; I think I know him quite well. If he knew that that's what you wanted to hear, he'd have said it already. He’s just treading too careful with you. My son loves you, Jason. Go back to him. Let him tell you."
Hope flared to life inside. She sounded so certain!

"I don't think I'd ever tire of hearing it," I grinned, "not from him."

"Good. Because all Black men; they're very passionate, very stubborn, but once they hand you their heart, you better not squander it. So I beg you; please go back and let him tell you what he feels? Demand it, if you have to. Will you do that?"

"Find me a parachute and find out," I said, feeling more relieved, elated and happy than I felt I had a right to feel.
Fuck it. If she was correct, I had every right!

"I think I can do better than that," she said, smiling wide now.
She pressed a button in her armrest and instructed the purser, when he appeared, by simply pointing down. A minute later, the plane dived out of the clouds and, as I looked out the window, I saw Las Vegas still beneath us; we'd never even left its airspace.

"Ah man...you old..." I glared at her. "This is just...wrong! You knew I'd want to go back?"

"No, but I hoped. Now let's get you home. With a little luck, he doesn’t even know that you were planning to leave."