“Stellina, my sweet starshine. I have missed you too much,” my father says through his still-thick Italian accent as he pulls me into a warm embrace.
“Papa, I’ve missed you too. Will you be leaving again anytime soon? I’m home for two weeks.”
My mom gives me a hug and a kiss.
“We’ll be home for a while. Your father has some business to handle here,” she says, using that tone that always means he’s in trouble for something.
“Papa, what’s going on at Carrington Caskets?”
I don’t ask about the company much. It’s not my dream to take over—but it is my family’s legacy. So one day, it’ll be mine. I suppose I should take more interest in it.
“That imbecile Jonathan. You know, the manager who came in to take over for…” My father snaps his fingers like it’ll help him remember her name. “Oh, you know who I mean. The older brunette lady.”
I cover my mouth and cough to hide the giggle escaping me.
“Papa, her name was Meredith. She worked for you for over twenty years. You should remember her name.”
“Ah, yes, thank you, Stellina. Jonathan took over for Meredith, and he proved to be incompetent. I had Ricky Richfield from that popular rock band call me to wipe my ass because Jonathan doesn’t even know basic casket design skills.”
Now I’m hunched over laughing.
“I think you meant to rip you a new one. If Jonathan isn’t cutting it, let him go and find someone else.”
After my father and I talked more about the onslaught of issues piling up under Jonathan’s reign, my mother and I went out for a small lunch and shopping, of course. It was spectacular talking to her about everything going on with school and getting her opinions on Donovan. Surprisingly enough, she was actually supportive of him.
She gave me sound advice while spoiling me with a plethora of new clothes, some for Virginia, and enough to leave here so I don’t have to keep lugging everything back and forth. Pulling me into a warm hug, she finally said the one thing I’ve always wanted to hear.
“Stella, I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming. Watching you blossom in college, finding your voice and growing into someone full of fire and grace, has been the greatest gift of my life. You are brave, brilliant, and far stronger than I ever allowed myself to be. Promise me something, okay? Don’t ever shrink to fit someone else’s expectations. Don’t stay in something just because it feels familiar. You deserve a love that truly sees you, that chooses you every day, and that stands by your side through everything. Please don’t settle for less than that.”
She squeezed me tighter before letting go and grabbing the cutest pair of pastel boots.
Well. That chat felt weirdly ominous. Is she not happy with Dad?
Mom and I got home later than expected. I run up to my room, throwing my massive amount of bags onto the bed. I am rushing to take a shower, internally grateful I told Donovan I’d meet him for dinner instead of him picking me up.
With my hair still wet, I grab one of my new dresses and throw it on. In the mirror, I admire how it looks on me: a lacy corset top with a flowy, A-line skirt. It hugs all the right places, makes my tits look outstanding.
I pick red heels to add a pop of color to the black dress, sit at my vanity for a quick, light makeup look, and obviously apply red lipstick. One last glance in the mirror, and I grab my purse and cardigan on the way out.
I arrive at Agave and Iron ten minutes later than expected. I give the hostess Donovan’s name, and she walks me to the table. I apologize for being late and told him about lunch with my mom. The grimace on his face melts into what looks like relief. Was he worried because I was late for dinner?
We trade stories from the past week and a half—not much to say, really, since we text and video chat every day. We fill the silence with small talk. Nothing about what he said he needed to talk to me about.
After dinner, we step out of the restaurant. Donovan slips his hand into mine, then pulls me into him. I laugh, placing my free hand on his chest, relaxing into his embrace.
I breathe in, trying to calm myself, but his scent finds me, dark plum and warm musk, with sin simmering just beneath. His hand reaches down, tilting my chin up so I look at him.
He kisses me gently, his tongue gliding across my lips. I twist his shirt in my hand, pulling him closer. I part my lips, letting his tongue slip into my mouth. The kiss grows deeper, more frantic.
“Let’s go somewhere that isn’t so public,” he whispers against my lips.
“Donovan, my parents are home. We can’t go back to my place.” I say it wearily.
“Fuck—and my stepmom would kill me if we woke the baby.”
I tilted my head. Wait… what? “Baby? Your dad and stepmom had a baby?”
Nope. Definitely news to me. Guess we really have some things to discuss.
