Very pretty."
"I haven't been able to wear it, because I can't think of anything I have to go with it.
Can you help me find something?" "Eva," she said, exasperated.
"You should've established a personal style by now - and it shouldn't be sweats!" "Help me out, Mom.
I'll be right back."
I took my coffee mug with me to have a purpose for leaving her.
"Don't go anywhere."
"Where would I go?" she replied, her voice muffled because she'd stepped deeper into my walk-in closet.
I did a quick check of the living room and kitchen.
My dad was nowhere to be seen and his bedroom door was closed, as was Cary's.
I hurried back into my room.
"How's this?" she asked, holding up a champagne-hued silk blouse.
The combination was gorgeous and classy.
"I love it! You rock! Thank you.
But I'm sure you have to go now, right? I don't want to hold you up."
My mom frowned at me.
"I'm not in a hurry."
"What about Stanton? This has got to be weighing on his mind.
And it's a Saturday - he always reserves his weekends for you.
He needs to have the time with you."
And God, did I feel awful for his stress.
Stanton had spent a great deal of his time and money on issues pertaining to me and Nathan over the four years he'd been married to my mother.
It was too much to ask of anyone, but he'd come through for us.
For the rest of my life, I would owe him for loving my mother so much.
"This is weighing on your mind, too," she argued.
"I want to be here for you, Eva.
I want to support you."
My throat tightened, understanding that she was trying to make amends for what had happened to me because she was unable to forgive herself.
"It's okay," I said hoarsely.
"I'll be okay.
And honestly, I'd feel terrible keeping you away from Stanton after all he's done for us.
You're his reward, his little piece of heaven at the end of an endless workweek."
Her lips curved in an enchanting smile.
"What a lovely thing to say."
Yes, I'd thought so, too, the times Gideon had said similar things to me.
It seemed impossible that only a week before, we'd been at the beach house, madly in love and taking firm, sure steps forward in our relationship.
But now that relationship was broken, and now I knew why.
I was angry and hurt that Gideon had kept something as monumental as Nathan being in New York hidden from me.
I was furious that he hadn't talked to me about what he was thinking and feeling.
But I understood, too.
He was a man who'd avoided talking about anything personal for years and years, and we hadn't been together long enough for that lifetime habit to change.
I couldn't blame him for being who he was, just as I couldn't blame him for deciding that he couldn't live with what I was.
With a sigh, I went to my mom and hugged her.
"Having you here .
it's what I needed, Mama.
Crying and laughing and just sitting with you.
Nothing could be more perfect than that.
Thank you."
"Really?" She hugged me tightly, feeling so small and delicate in my arms, even though we were the same size and her heels made her taller.
"I thought you were going crazy."
I pulled back and smiled.
"I think I did for a little bit, but you brought me back.
And Stanton is a good man.
I'm grateful for all he's done for us.
Please tell him I said so."
Linking my arm with hers, I grabbed her clutch from my bed and led her to the front door.
She hugged me again, her hands stroking up and down my back.
"Call me tonight and tomorrow.
I want to make sure you're doing okay."
"All right."
She studied me.
"And let's plan on a spa day next week.
If the doctor doesn't approve of Cary going, we'll have the technicians come here.
I think we could all use a little pampering and polish right now."
"That's a really nice way of saying I look like shit."
We were both rough around the edges, although she hid it much better than I did.
Nathan was still hanging over us like a dark cloud, still capable of ruining lives and destroying our peace.
But we'd pretend that we were better off than we were.
That was just the way we did things.
"But you're right - it'll be good for us and it'll make Cary feel a whole lot better, even if he can only get a mani and pedi."
"I'll make the arrangements.
I can't wait!" My mother flashed her signature megawatt smile - - which is what my dad was hit with when I opened the front door.
He stood on the threshold with Cary's keys in his hand, having been caught just about to slide one into the lock.
He was dressed in running shorts and athletic shoes, his sweat-soaked shirt tossed carelessly over his shoulder.
Still breathing a little quickly and glistening with sweat over tanned skin and rippling muscles, Victor Reyes was one hot hunk of a man.
And he was staring at my mom in a way that was totally indecent.
Tearing my gaze away from my seriously smokin' dad to look at my glamorous mother, I was shocked to see her looking at my father the same way he was looking at her.
Of all the times to realize my parents were in love with each other.
Well, I'd suspected my dad was heartbroken over my mom, but I thought she'd been embarrassed about him, as if he were a big mistake and error in judgment in her past.
"Monica."
My dad's voice was lower and deeper than I'd ever heard it, and more obviously flavored with an accent.
"Victor."
My mom was breathless.
"What are you doing here?" One of his brows rose.
"Visiting our daughter."
"And now Mom has to go," I prodded, torn between the novelty of seeing my parents together and a loyalty to Stanton, who was exactly what my mother needed.
"I'll call you later, Mom."
My dad didn't move for a moment, his gaze sliding down the length of my mom from head to toe, then gliding back up again.
Then he took a deep breath and stepped aside.
My mom stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the elevator, and then at the last minute she turned back.
She placed her palm over my dad's heart and lifted onto her tiptoes, kissing one of his cheeks and then the other.
"Good-bye," she breathed.
I watched her walk unsteadily to the elevator and push the button, her back to us.
My dad didn't look away until the car doors closed behind her.
He exhaled in a rush and came into my apartment.
I shut the door.
"How is it that I didn't know you two are crazy in love with each other?" The look in his eyes was painful to witness.
The raw agony was like an open wound.
"Because it doesn't mean anything."
"I don't believe that.
Love means everything."
"It doesn't conquer all like they say."
He snorted.
"Can you see your mother being a cop's wife?" I winced.
"Right," he said dryly, wiping his forehead with his shirt.
"Sometimes love isn't enough.
And if it's not enough, what good is it?" The bitterness I heard in his words was something I knew very well myself.
I passed him and went into the kitchen.
My dad followed me.
"Are you in love with Gideon Cross?" "Isn't it obvious?" "Is he in love with you?" Because I just didn't have the energy, I dumped my mug in the sink and pulled out new ones for me and my dad.
"I don't know.
I know he wants me, and sometimes he needs me.
I think he'd do anything he could for me if I asked, because I've gotten under his skin a bit."
But he couldn't tell me that he loved me.
He wouldn't tell me about his past.
And he couldn't, apparently, live with the evidence of my past.
"You've got a good head on your shoulders."
I pulled coffee beans out of the freezer to make a fresh pot.
"That's seriously debatable, Dad."
"You're honest with yourself.
That's a good trait to have."
He gave me a tight smile when I looked over my shoulder at him.
"I used your tablet earlier to check my e-mail.
It was on the coffee table.
I hope you don't mind."
I shook my head.
"Help yourself."
"I surfed the Internet while I was on there.
Wanted to see what popped up about Cross."
My heart sank a little.
"You don't like him."
"I'm withholding judgment."
My dad's voice faded as he moved into the living room, then strengthened again as he returned with my tablet in hand.
As I ground the beans, he flipped open the tablet's protective case and started tapping at the screen.
"I had a hard time getting a bead on him last night.
I just wanted a little more information.
I found some pictures of the two of you together that looked promising."
He gaze was on the screen.
"Then I found something else."
He turned the tablet around to face me.
"Can you explain this to me? Is this another sister of his?" Leaving the ground coffee to sit, I moved closer, my eyes on the article my dad had found on Page Six.
The picture was of Gideon and Corinne at some sort of cocktail party.
He had his arm around her waist, and their body language was familiar and intimate.
He was very close to her, his lips nearly touching her temple.
She had a drink in her hand and was laughing.
I picked up the tablet and read the caption: Gideon Cross, CEO of Cross Industries, and Corinne Giroux at the Kingsman Vodka publicity mixer.
