Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
She shakes my hand off and burns up the sidewalk, giving me a full view of how those small heels still accentuate the fine muscles in her long legs, her very nicely shaped bottom, and the way her hips roll very nicely with every angry step.
Do something. Don’t just stand here, staring at her bum. Move.
I catch up with her right at the building’s front door. We’re both a sopping mess. I can’t say I look good, but even drenched, she is breathtaking.
She wipes her soaked hair off her wet forehead and huffs at me. Water droplets cling to her nose and eyelashes and slide down her cheeks while her bow lips flatten out in an expression that is pure displeasure. “I said good day.”
“I’m just trying to get in out of the rain. My office is here too now. I’m not following you.”
“Ugh.” She throws open the door, and we both step into the lobby slash reception area together.
I stop short, and my breath rushes out of me. I might as well have just been hit by a rogue Beluga whale picked up by all that rain and somehow dropped straight on top of me.
Evilla stops so fast that she sways in her waterlogged shoes. I hear the squish, slap, squelch. The water pours off our clothing and makes very untidy puddles beneath us. I see her suck in her breath, and she doesn’t let it back out.
Because the woman standing right in front of the reception desk is unmistakably my mother.
She looks just like me.
Minus the square jaw, hard features, muscles, and height. The rest, though? I’m all her.
Evilla stops dead, but her body vibrates with restrained energy. She doesn’t turn to me, doesn’t look between us, and doesn’t give me any glaring looks. She doesn’t accuse me of planning this or planting my mother as the continuation of my scheme.
I look at her and not my mom. I’m staring at the back of her head, but I’m still looking. And I’m probably not doing it right. I might not be watching my mom’s reaction, but she’s watching me. How does one look at another person when they are supposedly bitten, smitten, and absolutely head over heels in love? Or infatuated with. Because curious attraction isn’t enough.
Anyhow, whatever way I’m looking at Evilla, it signals to my mother that this is her. The one. The one I’m over the freaking moon for.
Mom makes the first move. She breaks toward Evilla at what I can only term a dead hurtle. It’s kind of like a dead run, but instead of running, she’s just powerwalking. Then, she throws herself at Evilla and takes one of her wet, limp hands.
“Darling! It’s so good to meet you.”
“Mom,” I choke out. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to surprise you on your first day. I brought my own special pudding. I made enough for at least a hundred people to have a taste. Maybe they want to make it their next big flavor. You always said it was good enough to win awards. And I wanted to tell you how proud I am that you’re expanding and growing in your career.”
“Mom.” That word is all gravel with a hint of please kill me now. The only thing that’s going to save me is the fact that other than Marjorie sitting over at the reception desk with the most curiously contained expression, it’s just us here to witness this.
“Of course, I wanted to meet this amazing, fantastic, and lovely woman of your dreams as well.” She’s still holding Evilla’s hand. “You’re a goddess. You’ve captivated my son’s soul, and I couldn’t be happier. Possess him. Possess him hard. I want grandchildren one day, but all in good time. Right now, I’m just so, so very happy to meet you. I thought this day would never come. You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world. You’ve already worked wonders in Mont’s life, seeing as he bought an entire company just to be close to you. He’s so enthusiastic about pudding. You should hear the things he said, all the plans he’s making. Ahhhh, I can barely take it. You two, making pudding together.” She brushes a tear out of her eye.
This is too much. Before I die of humiliation or possibly the dagger stare that Evilla is going to thrust on me, I step forward. I have to detach my mother.
Also, at any second, Evilla is going to drop the bomb that we’re not really together. That I lied about everything.
Her other hand comes up, but instead of prying Mom’s fingers off of hers, she closes them on top of hers. “Yes,” she says in the gushiest voice. That’s not her real voice. I know it’s not. It’s too high, not the smoky tones she just used to give me a tongue-lashing at the coffee shop. “It’s so good to meet you. I’m so excited for what the future holds.”