Page 54 of Hidden With You

ChapterSixteen

While Jasper spends the rest of the morning on the phone following up various leads relating to the threat against me, I go outside to catch some sun by the pool. My Fun in the Sun Day was his idea, and although I protested at first, saying I wanted to help him, he assured me that he had it covered, and that the sunshine would do me good.

He was right. I haven’t been this relaxed in ages, and I actually lose myself in the book I’m reading. So much so that I don’t even notice when my mother approaches.

“I heard there’s some gala event for you on Friday.” She’s standing behind my head, casting a shadow onto my book. “Something about your book and that movie.”

I grimace, then close the book, my finger marking my place. I don’t look up at her. I’m not pulling a muscle in my neck for this woman. “That’s right.”

She sniffs. “Look at me when you speak to me.”

“Your legs work. You want to see my face, nothing’s stopping you.”

For a brief, glorious moment, I think I’ve won and that she’s going to simply turn around and go away. But luck is not on my side. Instead, she does what I suggested, circling my lounger and then sitting on the edge of the one just a few feet from my side.

“You didn’t invite me or your father.”

“Stepfather. And no. I didn’t.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose it’s just as well. We wouldn’t be able to come anyway.”

I consider asking her why she brought it up in the first place, but I know the answer: It’s one more thing she can hold up as evidence of what a horrible daughter I am.

I know she’s waiting for me to ask why they wouldn’t be able to come. Instead, I reopen my book.

“Your father’s trip got extended,” she says, the word father making me seethe. Then again, she can call him whatever she wants so long as he doesn’t have to be at the house. The fact that he’s still busy overseas is perfectly fine by me.

“He has some diplomatic conference in Berlin,” she continues, as if I care. “I’m flying over tonight to meet him in Nice, and I’ll be staying on the Cote D’Azur while he goes to the conference. Then we’re going to take some time together in Dubai.”

I gape at her as she runs all of this down, wondering why on earth she would possibly think that I care. I wait for her to continue, figuring there must be more, and when there isn’t, I put on my biggest, most false smile then say, “That’s a pity. I was joking before,” I lie. “I actually was going to get you both tickets.”

“Oh. Well. You shouldn’t go to the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. And it’s a really big deal. I want my parents there. I know how proud you must be of me.” I flash a simpering smile, then start counting. It only takes eight seconds before she turns me down flat.

“Certainly not that big a deal. I heard that they’re only screening the trailer. And the gala is surely more about the movie that’s premiering than your little demo real.”

“Oh, no,” I say sincerely. “It’s a big deal. And I really want you there.” The lie comes so, so easily.

“Well, Zelda, you know you can’t have everything just because you want it. And you certainly can’t expect other people to just bend to your will. How ridiculous to even think we would miss a visit to France and Dubai for less than five minutes of screen time and a cheap glass of champagne.”

“Of course, I understand. France and Dubai are once in a lifetime opportunities.” I frown, then tilt my head as if working out a particularly hard math problem. “Except for you and Daddy Dearest. You’ve been, what? Over a dozen times now? I can’t help but wonder what there is that you haven’t already seen.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t really need your sarcasm, young lady. And you would do well to remember that I’m your mother.”

“Believe me,” I say, “I know exactly who you are.” She stands, looming over me, and I see irritation in her eyes. Not anger, not rage, but irritation. Like I’m not even worth getting worked up about. Just a little bug that’s gotten in her way.

I feel Jasper’s hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t even heard him approach. I turn my head, drawing strength from his presence. And the fierce determination on his face.

“Problem?”

“My daughter and I were just talking.”

“How nice for you,” he says. “You’ll have to excuse us, though. We have plans. I would say it was nice to see you, Mrs. Malloy, but we both know I’d be lying.”

I stand, turning my back to my mother as I try hard to hold in my laughter.

“I love you,” I whisper as we hurry back to the cottage, managing to barely get through the door before we both burst into peals of laughter. I flop onto the couch, still giggling.