Cat didn’t know if she wanted her face plastered everywhere. The money was nice, but she’d managed to sock away a great deal of what she’d made over the years. She wasn’t going to go hungry or homeless. She couldn’t buy an island, but she could live a modest, quiet life.
“I still need to think about it,” Cat insisted. “If Grant Whitaker wants me that badly, then he won’t care if I take twenty-four hours to think about it.”
“I care,” Toni declared. “You’re not making any sense at all. What has that little town done to you? You need to get back here before you buy a minivan and start a garden.”
There could be worse things in life, although Cat wasn’t a big fan of minivans. She did like garden-fresh tomatoes, however.
“I’m going to call you this afternoon,” Toni went on. “By then, I should have some sort of number that they’re looking at. I’ll let you know.”
Toni had ended the call, leaving dead air on the other end of the line. Tossing her phone on the mattress, Cat sat down on the edge, heaving a loud and long sigh. This was a decision that she’d never thought she’d be faced with.
Go back to the city? Modeling? Traveling? Worrying about her weight, looks, hair, and skin?
And Tate.
She had some decisions to make.
Levering up from the bed, she headed into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Her mom was already at the table with her own mug, doing a crossword puzzle in the local paper.
Grace watched Cat closely as she poured her coffee, adding sugar and cream. Cat could feel the weight of her mother’s gaze the entire time, silently judgmental. It wasn’t her mom’s usual style to go passive-aggressive.
It was the absolute worst when Grace would say something like, ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.’ Every son or daughter knew that disappointment was far worse than anger.
“Stop looking at me like that, Mom. If you have something to say, just say it.”
Cat hadn’t exactly done the walk of shame this morning, but she’d shown up at the house wearing the same clothes she’d left in the night before. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out she’d spent the night with Tate.
“I’m not saying anything, Catherine. You’re a grown woman, and can do whatever you like.”
“I am a grown woman. I’m not ashamed of spending the night with Tate.”
“You shouldn’t be ashamed,” Grace replied. “This is not about sex. For heaven’s sake, I’m not a prude. Adults have sex. Your father and I had sex.”
This was not the avenue Cat wanted to go down. She’d spent her life pretending her parents didn’t have a sex life, and so far, it was working fine for her.
“Mom, I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“If anyone is a prude around here, it’s you,” her mother laughed. “You kids are so uptight. Once again, this is not about you having sex with Tate. More power to you. No, what this is about is what you’re doing in this relationship, because if you’replanning to leave again, I think you have an obligation not to string Tate along. You need to be honest.”
“What makes you think I’m leaving?”
“I heard you on the phone,” her mother replied. “And no, I wasn’t listening in. I was walking by your room, and you were on the phone.”
Her mom had never been the nosy type, although she loved the local gossip. In her teenage years, Cat had never experienced her privacy being breached or feeling like she didn’t have her own space.
“I was on the phone with my agent in the city,” Cat admitted. “There is an offer on the table from a prestigious cosmetics company to be the face of a new skin care line for mature women.”
“Mature women? You’re thirty-two.”
“In the cosmetic world, that’s practically ancient. I’m not sure I’m even going to take the offer, to be honest. I’m just not sure it’s something I want to do. I should have been over the moon when I got the call, but I didn’t feel any of that.”
If anything, Cat was annoyed. She’d been going along perfectly content, and then the call from out of nowhere was forcing her to make decisions she didn’t want to deal with.
“You don’t want to do it. You know, it’s fine if you don’t.”
“I know that it’s fine, but…”
“But?” Grace prompted. “But what?”
