“My mother has great taste in real estate—when she’s buying it with other people’s money.”
Mia Holland—actually, it was Mia Newport now—had purchased this co-op in Gramercy Park a decade ago with money from her divorce settlement from husband number three, Peter Swenson, heir to a shipping empire. We’d lived in it for a few years before she met husband number four, and then she’d decided to keep it in case things didn’t work out and she needed somewhere to live while searching for husband number five. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Holland.” The uniformed guy behind the desk tipped his hat. “Ms. Newport has arrived and is waiting upstairs.”
I stopped. “My mother’s here?”
The doorman’s face fell. “You weren’t expecting her?”
I wasn’t, but I absolutely should’ve been. I forced a smile, not wanting to make the poor guy feel like he’d done something wrong. “I was. She’s just…early.”
His smile returned. “Have a good afternoon.”
Once we were in the elevator and the doors slid closed, Miles looked at me. “You had no idea she was coming, did you?”
“Nope. But shame on me. I should’ve. This was one of the reasons I wanted to get my own apartment. My mother isn’t good with boundaries.”
Miles pointed to the elevator panel. I hadn’t pushed a button yet. “What floor?”
I took out a keycard and slipped it into the slot. The floor illuminated automatically. “PH. What else?”
The apartment door wasn’t locked. I took two steps inside and stopped short, finding two men in the living room. Then I spotted my mother in the kitchen, laughing and drinking from a champagne flute.I would’ve preferred a burglar.
She threw her arms in the air. “There she is! My beautiful daughter.”
I steadied myself and walked in the rest of the way. “Hi, Mom. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Of course you did. I told you Pablo and Mario were going to get us ready for the party tonight.” She looked at the taller of the two. “Isn’t she stunning? I had her when I was eight, of course.”
My mother engulfed me in a hug before moving on to my friend. She pressed her cherry red lips to his cheek. “Miles! How have you been, darling? Have you gone straight yet?” She wagged her finger. “I’m holding the husband-number-five spot open for you.”
A lot of gay men would find that type of comment insulting, but thankfully Miles was a good sport. “If I was going to switch teams for a woman, it would be you, Mia. You look as amazing as ever.”
She rubbed lipstick from his cheek with her thumb. “When are you going to move back to New York like my Sutton?”
“Ididn’tmove back, Mom. I’m only here for the summer for my internship.”
My mother ignored me. She walked over to the kitchen counter and lifted two big garment bags. “I brought you a selection of dresses for tonight and for the wedding.”
“I have a dress for tonight and one for thewedding.”
She smiled. “Not Monique Lhuillier and Christian Dior.”
“Nice,” Miles hissed.
I whipped around to look at him. “Don’t encourage her.”
Mom lifted a third bag. “And I brought you a new suit, Miles. It’s navy with a light pink check. I hope you brought those Barbie-pink glasses I’ve seen you wear.”
“I don’t leave home without them.” He kissed her cheek. “Unlike your daughter, my loyalty can be bought. I can’t wait to try on my new duds.”
My mother and Miles disappeared down the hall, while I went to the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine. Mom came back when I was halfway through a glass.
“Honey.” She frowned. “You know alcohol will make you puffy.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
She took the wine glass from my hand and sipped. When I looked at her as if to say,how come you can drink it then?she waved me off. “My face is too frozen with Botox and filler to puff.”
