“Mom…”
Mothers are typically the ones to comfort their children, but with us, it feels as if it’s always been the other way around. Mymom’s sensitive. I’ve got a better handle on my emotions, and she depends on me to be her rock.
Dropping the rest of the clothes onto the bed, I step in and wind my arms around her thin frame, pulling her in for a hug.
I wish she’d just tell me what’s going on.
In the past, she’s always been honest with me, even when it bordered on impropriety. That’s why I know how she and Gideon met–through work– and what her work entailed–providing company to rich men for a price. The men she entertained were of the powerful, influential variety, and she was paid handsomely for her services. Gideon was her favorite client. Then, he became her only client.
Though I suppose she stopped thinking of him as a client long ago. The two of them fell in love, but circumstances prevented them from being together in the traditional sense. Gideon was married, and given his social standing as one of the richest, most prominent businessmen in New York, divorce wasn’t an option. Thus, he decided to have his cake and eat it too, turning my mom from a high-priced call girl to a kept woman, putting her up in a swanky penthouse apartment on the upper east side and lavishing her with everything her heart desired.
That’s also when I came back into the picture. Mom always said that Gideon was the reason we could be together– because before him, I had to live with my grandmother in Chicago while she remained in New York for work. Her occupation obviously wasn’t conducive to raising a young child, so she’d fly out once a month, spend a few days with me, then jet back to her other life. That went on until I was five. When Gideon urged her to quit her job, promising a life of ease and comfort, she agreed on one condition:me.
It’s been fourteen years since I left Chicago to join my mom in NYC, and Gideon has made good on everything he’s promisedher. That’s part of the reason I’ve always liked him. Not only is he a man of his word, but he treats my mother like a queen and dotes on me like a father. When I was young, he’d bring me treats whenever he came to visit. Then, when I got a little older, books. He always seemed to keep a beat on what I was interested in, tailoring his gifts accordingly, and I looked forward to his visits– especially when he brought his son along. It was nice to have a playmate to pass the time with while he and my mom were locked away in her room, but Gideon stopped bringing him after a while. Probably because he was getting old enough to deduce why his dad was spending so much time with a woman other than his own mom.
I’m not sure when I realized how unconventional our situation was. It was all I’d ever known– and even though I understood extramarital affairs were frowned upon and my mother was technically theother woman, she and Gideon made each other happy. They were in love. How could I find fault in that?
Gideon gave us a nice life. An easy life. And if my mom was discontent with being a mistress, she never let on. It wasn’t until his wife got sick and died that she even hinted at wanting more, and he only waited a month before making an honest woman out of her. Daphne Morrow finally became Daphne Romero, and Gideon officially became my stepfather. We’re supposed to be a family, but now I’m being shoved out of the picture.
“I wish you’d just talk to me,” I whisper softly as my mom sinks into our embrace, squeezing me tight. I bury my face in her hair, the familiar, flowery scent of her expensive shampoo tickling my nose.
She releases me from the hug too soon, her pale blue eyes filled with an emotion that I can’t quite read as she pulls back to look at me. I’m practically my mom’s twin aside from my eyes– deep brown, with a copper sunburst around my pupils. Imust’ve inherited them from my father. Sadly enough, it’s my only connection to the mystery man who donated half of his DNA to my existence; a one-time client whose name my mom doesn’t even remember.
“Gideon will figure this out,” Mom states confidently, taking both my hands in hers and giving them a little squeeze. “And as soon as he does, we’ll come back, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Promise?” I ask hopefully.
She nods, leaning in to press her lips to my forehead. “Promise.”
I heave a sigh as I take a step backwards, biting back the endless questions pinging around in my brain. There’s obviously something big going on here; something neither my mom nor her new husband are willing to let me in on.
Gideon has been acting strange since he returned from his business trip the other day. He and my mom have been having a lot of tense, whispered conversations, exchanging worried glances when they think I’m not looking. Then this morning, they dropped a bomb on me. The two of them are leaving to travel abroad, and for some reason, they won’t allow me to join them or remain here on my own. Instead, they’ve enrolled me at Corvus College.
If the circumstances weren’t so cloak and dagger, I’d be giddy about this opportunity. Corvus College is so elite that most people haven’t even heard of it, and Gideon must’ve had to pull some serious strings to get me in since they base their admissions on bloodlines rather than academic merit. The education it affords makes the community college I’ve been attending look like a joke. It’s the kind of place where people go to build connections, the alma mater of countless CEOs and business tycoons. It’s a place where even a girl like me, who grew up without the backing of a powerful family name or a trust fund, can get ahead and make something of myself.
It's all I’ve ever wanted. A degree from Corvus College is a guaranteed way into any job I apply for after graduation; a leg up to build a real future. It’s still early in the term, so it shouldn’t be difficult to catch up on the coursework, and my prior credits will transfer. I should be jumping for freaking joy right now, not freaking the hell out.
The way this was sprung on me sucks all the excitement out of it, and I also haven’t had nearly enough time to wrap my mind around how I’m about to be separated from my mom for the first time since I was five. Her being a kept woman meant I was also hidden away, educated by private tutors and never really mingling with my peers. I’ve always been content to be a loner because at least I hadher.
“Remember, Raf goes to Corvus too,” Mom comments offhandedly as she goes back to packing my suitcase, folding a plaid skirt and tucking it inside. “So, you won’t be totally on your own there, right?”
“Ah, yes, the elusive stepbrother,” I grumble, picking through the pile of clothes strewn across my bed.
I haven’t seen Rafael Romero in a good twelve years– not since Gideon stopped bringing him along when he visited my mom. I was actually excited to reconnect with my old friend when our parents got married, but even though it was just a quick ceremony at the courthouse, he couldn’t be bothered to show up for it, nor has he come home to visit in the months since. If it weren’t for the photos of him scattered throughout the house, I’d wonder if the man even existed.
It’s been so long that I don’t remember much about Raf, but I know he’s currently a junior at Corvus College while I’ll be transferring in as a sophomore. I know he’s Gideon’s only child and heir to the Romero business empire, which makes him just as disgustingly rich as his father. And I know he’s ridiculously good looking, judging by the photographs of him displayed inthe home. He’s got Gideon’s thick black hair and strong jaw, but he inherited his mother’s rich olive skin tone, prominent cheekbones, and striking dark eyes. I distinctly remember the nice smile he had as a child, but I’ve noticed that at some point, he stopped smiling for photos.
I wonder why.
“He’s family now,” Mom reminds me, neatly folding a sweater into my suitcase. “And families look out for one another.”
“I don’t even know the guy,” I mutter.
My mom reaches out to set a hand on my arm, her plump lips curving in an encouraging smile. “Then this is the perfect opportunity to get to know him, right?”
Daphne Morrow-Romero, ever the optimist.
I blow out a breath and nod, knowing this isn’t a point worth arguing. Now that she’s graduated from mistress to wife, my mom is intent on making us into a picture-perfect family.
