Like the others on the tree-lined street, it had history and showed it off with the kinds of architectural detailing contemporary builders didn’t use anymore. The building had been updated and now sheltered residents with a modern glass overhang above the entrance. The addition meshed surprisingly well with the fa?ade.
“Come on,” I said to her, smiling at Paul as he opened the door for us.
When we exited the elevator on my floor, I forced myself not to glance at Gideon’s door. What would it be like to take a friend home to a place I shared with Gideon?
I wanted that. Wanted to build that with him.
I unlocked my apartment and took Megumi’s purse when we stepped inside. “Make yourself at home. I’m just going to let my dad know we’re here.”
She stared wide-eyed at the open floor plan of the living room and kitchen. “This place is huge.”
“We don’t need all this room, really.”
She grinned. “But who’s going to complain?”
“Right.”
I was turning toward the hallway leading to the guest room when my mom emerged from the hall leading to my bedroom and Cary’s, which was on the opposite side of the living area. I came to a halt, startled to see her wearing my skirt and blouse. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
Her reddened eyes locked on a point somewhere around my waist, her skin pale enough to make her makeup look overdone. That was when I realized she was wearing my cosmetics, too. Although we’d been mistaken for sisters on occasion, my gray eyes and soft olive skin tone came from my dad and necessitated a different color palette than the pastels my mom used.
Queasiness spread through my stomach. “Mom?”
“I have to go.” She wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I hadn’t realized it was so late.”
“Why are you wearing my clothes?” I asked, even though I knew.
“I spilled something on my dress. I’ll get these back to you.” She rushed past me, coming to another abrupt stop when she saw Megumi.
I couldn’t move; my feet felt rooted to the carpet. My hands fisted at my sides. I knew the walk of shame when I saw it. My chest tightened with anger and disappointment.
“Hi, Monica.” Megumi came forward to give her a hug. “How are you?”
“Megumi. Hi.” My mom clearly scrambled for more to say. “It’s great to see you. I wish I could stay and hang out with you girls, but I really have to run.”
“Is Clancy here?” I asked, not having paid attention to the other vehicles on the street when I’d arrived.
“No, I’ll grab a cab.” She still didn’t look directly at me, even when she turned her head in my direction.
“Megumi, would you mind sharing a cab with my mom? I’m sorry to flake on you, but I’m suddenly not feeling well.”
“Oh, sure.” She searched my face and I could see her picking up on my change of mood. “No problem.”
My mom looked at me then and I couldn’t think of a thing to say to her. I was almost as disgusted by the look of guilt on her face as I was by the thought of her cheating on Stanton. If she was going to do it, she could at least own it.
My dad chose that moment to join us. He walked into the room dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with bare feet and hair still damp from a shower.
As always, my luck was impeccably bad.
“Dad, this is my friend Megumi. Megumi, this is my dad, Victor Reyes.”
As my dad walked to Megumi and shook her hand, my parents gave each other a wide berth. The precaution did nothing to stop the electricity arcing between them.
“I’d thought maybe we could hang out,” I told him to fill the sudden awkward silence, “but now I’m not feeling up to it.”
“I have to go,” my mom said again, grabbing her purse. “Megumi, did you want to ride with me?”
“Yes, please.” My friend hugged me good-bye. “I’ll call you later and see how you’re feeling.”