It Started with a Kiss by S.L. Scott

Author:S.L. Scott [Scott, S.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798986199429
Publisher: S.L. Scott
Published: 2022-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

20

Marlow

I’ve never spit in my life, and now I’m wiping dribbling champagne from my chin in the middle of a trendy Manhattan restaurant.

I’d recognize Talia Marché’s voice anywhere—the laid-back California pace mixing with the slightest of accent via France or Italy. It changes on an as-needed basis. But I can’t say I ever expected to run into her in New York City. I stand in a rush, my cloth napkin accidentally falling to the floor before I can catch it. “Mom?” I say again as if my eyes deceive me and my nerves are kicking in.

She walks over with shock embracing her own face. Others might not catch the expression before she rights it into a smile, but I’m the last person she expected to see. Otherwise, she would have sent a text or even a wire to let me know she was in the city.

She embraces me like a daughter she’s close to, a daughter who she hasn’t seen in a long time and whose presence has been missed.

In reality, she hasn’t missed me a single day of my life. Her lifestyle is a testament to her chosen path and my replacement.

I lift my arms, but they’re slow to obey. I’ve been hurt before by her absence. Does her presence make a difference? I hug her. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were in the city?”

“Look at you. So . . . adult-like.” Pulling back, she holds my arms, swinging them wide so she can get a good look at me. I lost the five pounds she used to hound me about, but I’m pretty sure they returned in the last week living with Jackson. Happiness does that, gives one a sense of comfort when someone not only accepts you but loves you for who you are and not just for appearances.

When her eyes linger on my midsection, I yank my arms out of her hands. “That happens when you near thirty.”

“Thirty?” Her head goes back as if she’s going to need smelling salts to continue. “How is it possible that I have a thirty-year-old?”

“Not quite yet. I have a good six months.”

“Right. That’s good. I was starting to feel old. What a dreadful hand to be dealt.”

Jackson stands and says, “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Marché.”

Her entire body angles toward him, and she drops her wrist in front of him. I want to roll my eyes. Good Lord, this is over the top. She should probably take a break from the French Riviera. “Who are you?” she asks, giving him sudden interest.

And my friends always called me over the top. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far in that aspect. I’m tall enough for entry into the runway world of modeling but more muscular in build. My mom said designers would never want to fit clothes on that type of model. It seemed to bother her more than me.

At fourteen, I knew that life wasn’t for me, and I was happy not to follow in my mother’s footsteps.

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