I needed to snap out of this. I couldn’t start to have feelings for him or fall for his easy charm. He was a flirt, he was a notorious player, he was aDevil, and he was quite frankly . . . trouble.
Chapter 11: Mia
When I started going to preschool, my mom noticed I played every day with the same girl. Within three weeks, my mom was friendly with Jill Bryant, and within five weeks, Ava and I spent every day after school together. Jill worked every hour her boss would let her and still managed to spend time with Ava. My mom didn’t work as such; she just liked not having to be tied down to looking after me every day.
And that was fine. That’s the way my mom was; she came first and always had. I wasn’t completely bitter; she gave me anything I wanted, and I didn’t need to wait until birthdays or Christmas — I got itwhenI wanted it. I completely recognized early on that I was spoiled in that way, but where I would have preferred to have been spoiled was with her love. However, I couldn’t grumble. Gloria loved me in her own way, and I had nothing to complain about, really.
My dad was a no-go. Gloria refused to tell me who he was, and he was unnamed on my birth certificate. I’d asked her once ifsheeven knew, and it was the one and only time my mother had hit me. Which I probably deserved, my tone had been less than complimentary. It had never stopped me from analyzing all of my mom’s co-stars in everything she had performed in before I was born, trying to find the red-haired man with whom I shared my DNA. I stopped peering at strangers when I was sixteen. If he didn’t want to know me, then why would I want to know him?
I’d never confessed it to anyone, but I was pretty sure that’s where some of my mom’s money came from. I think maybe, sometimes, when Gloria had been frivolous, a cash boost came courtesy of dear old dad. It wouldn’t surprise me if Gloria reached out to him, using me as a crutch. As long as I remainedin college, I think she had another two years of using me to her advantage.
When I told her I was pursuing a degree in music, she was supportive. Mom did love to hear me sing, but she agreed, with my pale skin, red hair, and curves that wouldn’t shift no matter how much I tried, I wouldn’t be the star of any show. Plus, I knew I would prefer the shadows of the stage. All those people looking at me? No thanks. Or worse, thinking I only “made it” because I was Gloria Davis’s daughter? Nope. My mom was not the ticket to my success.
Whatever or wherever I ended up, I would do it on my own. Just as soon as mom finished paying for my way through college. I laughed at myself, catching Ava’s attention.
“What’s so funny?” she asked me curiously as she dropped down beside me and rested her head on my shoulder.
“Thinking about Gloria,” I said as we both watched Quinn flick through the screen to find what she needed.
Ava reached forward for a chicken wrap. The two of them had spent thirty minutes in the kitchen, and in that time, we had salad, chicken wraps, lettuce ones for me, chicken wings, and a bowl of fries for Ava, which Quinn and I had been sneaking fries from when she wasn’t looking.
There was also a bowl of chips, mini saltshakers, tequila, and lime wedges.
Friday night, and we were going at it hard, it seemed, as Quinn had put two bottles of tequila on the table. The doors were locked, the windows had been checked, and the drapes were drawn. Honestly, we were a horror movie waiting to happen.
“Okay, what do you want to sing?” Quinn asked as she looked over her shoulder at me. Her smile widened when she saw the way Ava and I were sitting, Ava’s head on my shoulder and my head resting on Ava’s. “You two are adorable,” shesaid, and there was zero snarkiness. Why wouldn’t she give me something valid to dislike her for?
“Start with ‘The Gambler,’” Ava said to me as she squeezed my arm. “You love Kenny, and it’ll loosen you up.”
“Country?” Quinn asked me in surprise.
“You don’t like Kenny Rogers?” I asked suspiciously. Could this be it? Could this be my reason for not liking her as much as Ava wanted me to?
“I prefer ‘Coward of the County,’” Quinn said honestly. “But ‘The Gambler’ is good too. Ooh, do you sing any Highwaymen songs?”
“‘Ghost Riders in the Sky,’” Ava answered excitedly. She was sitting up eagerly and opening the Notes App on her phone. “I’m writing a playlist of requests.”
“What? No!”
“Hush,” she mumbled distractedly as she nudged me. “Quinn and the wonders of tequila are going to cure you.”
The question ofwhy Quinnmust have been clear on my face as Quinn lost some of her enthusiasm. Reaching over for a chip, she nibbled the corner as she looked at me.
“If you really don’t want to, it’s okay. I can go up to Gray’s room and do something else. You and Ava can stay here, and I promise that I won’t listen.”
I felt Ava’s body still even as she continued to tap out songs on the list.
Ugh, drat.“Well, Ava just wrote down a Celine Dion song, so if you think you’re escaping that particular screech fest, you have another thing coming,” I told her as I leaned forward and picked up a lettuce wrap. “Can I get double shots?”
Ava relaxed beside me, and Quinn grinned as she reached for the bottle. “Let’s start on this, eat some food, and then when you’re ready, we can do this.”
“Do you think we could find ‘Kryptonite’?” Ava asked suddenly. “I mean, it is a karaoke session, I think we all need to sing.”
Quinn was shaking her head adamantly. “No. I can’t really sing well.”
“That’s fine, I can’t sing at all,” Ava replied happily. She turned to me and handed me her phone. “Once you’re done, we’ll all sing.”
I looked at the list and then at her. “Are you crazy?”
