Chapter 44 Mrs Santos
Linda Santos looked exactly the same and completely different. Same tired eyes, same careful posture, same hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. But she was wearing a dress Cedric had never seen....something navy with small flowers, the kind you wore when you wanted to make a good impression. There was something in her face, some mixture of hope and worry and determination that made her look both older and more vulnerable than he remembered.
"Cedric," she breathed, and then she was crossing the room, pulling him into a hug that smelled like her lavender lotion and maybe tears.
"Hey, Ma," Cedric managed, his own voice thick. "I'm so glad you're here."
She pulled back, holding him at arm's length, scanning his face with that particular mother intensity. "You look good. Really good. Healthy." Her voice cracked. "I was so worried."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm okay, I promise."
Her eyes moved past him then, landing on Falcone, who had stepped back but was still close enough to matter. Cedric watched his mother's face, trying to read what she saw.
Falcone stood perfectly still, expression open but guarded. Waiting to be judged.
"Mom," Cedric said, his hand finding Falcone's and pulling him forward. "This is Gianni Falcone. Gianni, this is my mother, Linda."
For a moment that felt like forever, nobody moved. Linda's eyes traveled over Falcone....the expensive clothes, the confident posture, the way he held Cedric's hand like it mattered. Her expression was unreadable.
Then Falcone stepped forward, extending his free hand. "Mrs. Santos. It's an honor to finally meet you. Cedric talks about you all the time."
Linda took his hand slowly. Cedric held his breath. This was it. The first touch. The first impression.
"Mr. Falcone." Her voice was careful. "You have a beautiful home."
"Thank you. Though it only became a home when Cedric started living here." Falcone's voice was steady, sincere. "Before that, it was just a house."
Something flickered in Linda's eyes....surprise, maybe. Or suspicion. "That's a very romantic thing to say."
"It's the truth." Falcone still held her hand, not shaking anymore but not letting go either. "Your son has changed my life in ways I'm still trying to understand. I'm grateful every day that he chose to give me a chance."
Linda's eyes moved to Cedric, searching. "Is that true? You chose this?"
"Yes." Cedric's voice was firm despite the trembling in his chest. "I chose this. I'm choosing it. Every day."
She released Falcone's hand. Cedric couldn't tell if the moment had gone well or badly. His mother had that neutral expression she wore when she was thinking hard, processing.
"Would you like to sit?" Falcone gestured to the couch. "Dinner won't be ready for a bit. We thought we could talk first. Get to know each other."
"Yes." Linda moved to the couch, sitting with her purse in her lap like a shield. "I'd like that."
Cedric and Falcone sat across from her, close enough that their knees touched. Cedric needed that contact.
Mrs. Kozlov appeared. "Can I bring you anything, Mrs. Santos? Wine? Tea?"
"Tea would be lovely, thank you."
"And for you gentlemen?"
"Wine," Cedric said immediately. He was going to need it.
"Same," Falcone agreed.
After Mrs. Kozlov disappeared, silence settled over the room. Linda's eyes moved around the space, taking in the expensive furniture, the artwork, the general atmosphere of wealth.
"So," she said finally, carefully neutral. "How did you two meet?"
Here it was. The first real question. Cedric and Falcone exchanged a glance.
"I was working at a club," Cedric started. "Bottle service. Gianni came in for business, and we started talking."
"A club." Linda's eyes narrowed slightly. "What kind of club?"
"An upscale one. Elysium. In Manhattan." Falcone's voice was even. "I own it, actually. Along with several other properties in the city."
"You own it." Linda looked at him with new interest. Or maybe suspicion. "What business are you in, Mr. Falcone?"
"Real estate, primarily. Property management. I also have investments in hospitality." All technically true. All wildly incomplete.
"And that's how you can afford..." Linda gestured vaguely at the room. "All of this?"
"Yes."
"I see." Her tone suggested she didn't. Or that she saw too much. "And Cedric is living here because...?"
"Because we're together," Cedric said before Falcone could answer. "Because we're in a relationship. Because this is where I want to be."
Linda's attention focused entirely on him. "For how long? How long have you been together?"
"About a month. A little more."
"A month." She said it flatly. "You've been living with someone you've known for a month."
"I know how it sounds...."
"Do you? Because it sounds like my son, who I haven't heard from properly in weeks, who left his apartment without telling me, has moved in with a man he barely knows. A man who...." She looked at Falcone again, eyes hard. "How old are you, Mr. Falcone?"
"Thirty-one."
"Thirty-one. Six years older than my son." Linda's hands tightened on her purse. "And very wealthy. You don't find that concerning? The power dynamic?"
"Mom...." Cedric started, but Falcone held up a hand gently.
"You're right to be concerned, Mrs. Santos. If my mother were still alive and I brought home someone in Cedric's position, she'd have the same questions. The same worries." Falcone leaned forward. "Yes, I'm older. Yes, I'm wealthier. Yes, there's an inherent imbalance I'm aware of every single day. Which is why I've tried hard to give Cedric his own space, his own resources, his own life outside of me."
"His own life?" Linda's eyebrows raised. "What does that mean?"
"It means I've set up a veterinary clinic in his name. It means I'm helping him go back to school to finish his degree. It means I encourage him to maintain relationships with his family, with friends, with anyone who matters to him." Falcone's voice was passionate now, losing some of its careful control. "It means I don't want to possess him, Mrs. Santos. I want to be his partner. There's a difference."