"In high school, you were one of the most popular girls. I should know, you dragged me along with you."
"So?" The waiter came back with their orders. "I grew up. Not everything is about money or dressing to impress."
"Until your mother started to dictate your lifestyle." Deborah sighed at the closed off expression on her friend's face. "You're letting her win."
"We're not in a competition."
Deborah dipped into her soup and took an appreciative sip. "You are. Look honey, I know this is off-limits. You won't discuss any of it with me, even though I know the score. That woman is a stone cold bitch, and I've tried to be reasonable because she's your mama, but I refuse to be silent."
"You're going to be a mother and it's time you move away from her influence. I know it's easier said than done, but..."
"You're right." With forced calm, Kiara spooned up a chunk of vegetables and took a bite. Her stomach wasn't protesting, which was a relief. After lunch, she was going home and diving into her writing. She needed the distraction and that had always been her go to place.
"I need to stop seeing her. This, this sense of duty that I have going on is not working out. I promised my dad..."
"He had no right to put you in that position." Always loyal, Deborah snapped it out. "He knew what she was like. I loved your dad, but he was an idiot when it came to her. He..."
"No." Kiara shook her head, expression turning hostile. "Don't talk about him. I love you like a sister Deb, but no one talks about my dad. He was an exceptional man. One who had the lack of sense or whatever to fall for a coldhearted woman. The heart wants what it wants."
The silence that followed that passionate sentence was strained for a spell. Struggling with impatience, Deborah decided to try for patience.
"I'm sorry."
Shrugging, Kiara broke off a piece of bread and dunked it into her thick soup. "It's fine. You know how sensitive I am when it comes to him. I cannot even discuss it with Oscar."
She smiled grimly. "Change of topic, I think." She spooned up some soup and savored it on her tongue before resuming. "I've received another letter."
Putting her glass down carefully, Deborah stared at her friend, the discomfort between them forgotten. "How many now?"
"Ten." She shrugged. "It's weird getting fan mails."
"I thought you had someone dealing with the mails."
"I do. These are delivered to my doorstep. Whenever I stop by to work or just water my plants, I find one tucked under the door."
"He knows where you live."
"The world knows where I live." She pointed out dryly, reaching for her glass of water. "That spread in the magazine a few months ago took care of that. Not to mention the fact that Oscar and I've been photographed frequently." She hissed out a breath. "It's a pain in the ass."
"A price you pay for fame." A concerned frown was still etched on Deborah's brow, even as she sipped her water. "What did the note say?"
Kiara lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "The usual. He loves me and admires my work. Wants to put me on a pedestal and worship at my feet."
For some reason, she felt uneasy. "Stuff like that. And oh, he mentioned Oscar."
Her friend's eyes sharpened. "In what context?"
"Oscar is not good enough for me. He's a charlatan."
She laughed when her friend's brows winged up. "At least he knows how to spell. He's quite articulate actually."
"I'm gratified to know you're admiring his intellect." Her friend remarked dryly. "Have you told Oscar?"
The guilt on her face said enough.
"Kiara."
"What? You know how he is. And it's gotten worse since I've been pregnant. He's so damn protective. It's like the man wants to put me in a bubble."
