Sweet Love - Mia Kayla Page 0,55
tell her the whole truth. So, I told her what I could. “So, I’m helping with the rebranding and packaging of Colby Chocolates. That’s why I’ve been working weekends.”
She leaned in, her elbows on the table, one eyebrow raised. “Rebranding? Is that related to your job or added work?”
I reached for a piece of bread in the center of the table, swirling it in my oil. “Added work, but it’s okay. The CEO’s son asked me to help with ideas. He saw a mock-up I had done and—”
“The CEO’s son?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would he ask you, the computer tech girl, to help him with that—with rebranding and stuff like that?”
“I told you, he saw some of my drawings and—”
“I’m just saying, honey … he’s a guy, and I’d be a little—”
“I’m not naive, Mom.” My jaw tightened. I knew where she was going with this. Yes, Connor had hit on me, but that was way after our initial deal. And even though he wanted to take things further, I’d definitely put him in his spot.
My mother’s face softened. “I’m just looking out for you, honey.”
“There’s no reason to.” I wanted to tell her that after my father had passed and before Richard had come along, I’d been looking out for the both of us.
I placed my hand over my mother’s on the table and squeezed. “I know. Thanks, Mom.”
After the waitress placed our pasta dishes on the table, I reached for my fork and smiled. “This is nice. I feel like we never get alone time anymore.”
The corner of my mother’s mouth tipped up. “Yeah, this is nice. I’m glad your schedule worked out.”
“Remember when you and Dad would take me out for school-ditch days?”
She shook her head, her gaze focusing on her plate. “That was all your dad. Gosh, I’d try to convince him out of that, the importance of school and all, but, yeah … now that he’s gone, those were the most memorable times.” Her voice quieted to a hush.
There were times that I didn’t want to bring him up at all because it just reminded my mother that he was no longer here. But there were so many memories that I wanted to reminisce about.
“Remember when he kidnapped me in the middle of the day? He walked into school and told the front desk that it was an emergency. I had so much anxiety until he drove to pick you up, and we went to the zoo.” I laughed, reliving the memory. I must have been eleven or twelve.
My mother shook her head. “I’d always pretend to be mad at him for doing such things, and he’d always try to make me laugh to break me out of my mood.”
“It worked though, didn’t it?”
Her eyes crinkled at the sides as she met my gaze. “Each and every time.” She let out a sad sigh.
We were quiet for a long beat.
“I miss him,” I said.
She nodded, her stare dropping back to the table as she twirled her fork in the tomato-sauced spaghetti.
Why could she never say it back? Was it a sin to miss him? I knew she did. She could still be happy yet miss my father.
I was always walking on eggshells when talking to her about my father, about my paintings, about everything. I hadn’t even confronted her about the paintings that had been thrown out in the garbage, not wanting to get into an argument.
“I scheduled this dinner to also talk about a few things.” My mother forked the first of her pasta into her mouth. “I know you’ve made some friends at work, and I’m really glad you’re making a life here.”
“You should meet Alyssa and Casey,” I gushed. “Casey talks nonstop. Alyssa is crass but sweet. They are like yin and yang—opposites in every sense of the word, but they balance each other perfectly. I’d like to think I’m the even-keeled one.”
My smile hurt my cheeks. Seriously, they were my silver lining in this world of new and crazy. I stuffed more pasta in my mouth, letting it fill my belly with all its goodness.
“That’s great, baby. Really. But I’d like it if you spent some time with Sandy too.”
I felt the color drain from my face, my fork stilled midair.
Sandy? This dinner is about Sandy?
“She’s been having a hard time with the transition, and I’m trying to make it easier for her …”
Easier for Sandy? My whole body tensed.“How about me?” I said, finally finding the strength in my