by Simone Grey
“Okay, I’m ready,” she says breathlessly.
“What were you doing?”
“I was just changing into a nightgown. It’s hot in here.”
Images of Mia in a skimpy nightgown immediately start flashing through my mind and my dick perks up some more.
“You mean you’re not wearing any pants?” I ask. My voice sounds deeper even to my own ears.
“Uh no. It’s been getting hotter and hotter during the night in my apartment, so I just took my leggings off,” she says, her voice sounding breathier than usual.
“I see.”
There’s this tension there between us that’s never been there before.
“Okay, let’s start with episode one of season three.”
As the show starts, I find myself unable to focus or really get into it. Images of Mia lying in bed play in mind over and over again. My dick is getting harder by the minute and I know I’m going to have to go take care of it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I know I need to shut this shit down now, yet I can’t seem to help myself.
One episode turns into two and by the time the third episode is starting I hear the soft snores coming from the other end of the line. A smirk crosses my face. I’ve told her time and time again that she snores, but she refuses to believe it.
“Mia” I say softly.
All I get is silence in return.
“Sweet dreams baby girl,” I murmur before hanging up.
As I drift off to sleep, I know I need to get my wayward thoughts under control. I can’t afford to fuck up my friendship with the best girl I’ve ever known. I know I’ll never forgive myself if I do.
Chapter Four
MIA
“Cheers to my sister being a true bad ass and crushing the charts!” Mya says.
I can’t help but smile as I clink my glass against hers before taking a sip of champagne.
“Thanks sis.” At first glance, it’s difficult for people to tell we are twins. While I wear my hair curly, Mya tends to wear hers straight, the black strands flowing down her back. I usually wear glasses except for the rare occasions when I put my contacts in. Mya has never worn glasses.
I tend to wear jeans and sweatpants with no makeup, while Mya prefers skirts, dresses, and rarely leaves the house without a full face. We couldn’t be more different in most aspects of our lives, but our bond as twins has never been broken.
We’ve managed to stay close over the years. Even when she was competing and winning pageants, I would go and cheer her on and whenever she won a title, I was just as excited as she was.
“It feels like I haven’t seen you in weeks. What’s been going on?” Mya asks as the waitress sits our breadsticks down before departing. We’re at Tracey’s Pizzeria, a local pizza shop that is walking distance from Mya’s daycare center.
A few months after leaving the pageant world, Mya came up with the blueprint for a place where kids and teenagers of all ages to come and learn different extracurricular activities. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears, but a little over a year ago, I attended the grand opening ceremony. It’s been going strong ever since.
Between running the daycare center and her commitments as a former beauty pageant winner, she’s always busy.
“Nothing much, I’m working on edits for my next book.”
“Ah, I can’t wait to read it,” she says clapping excitedly. Mya has always been a huge supporter of my writing career. Just then the waitress sets a steaming pizza in front of us.
“Enjoy,” she says before walking off to deal with another customer. My stomach grumbles as the smell of cheese and garlic waft up to my nose. Mya and I dig in, talking as we eat. Once I’m stuffed, I lean back in my chair. Mya clears her throat as she wipes her mouth with a napkin.
“Now that I’ve fed you I, uh, have something to tell you.”
My eyes narrow on her. “What it is?” I ask cautiously.
She fidgets with a napkin in her hands, avoiding eye contact, something she only does when she’s nervous.
“Um…well I may have let it slip to mom how well your books are doing and that you hit several different bestselling lists,” she blurts out.
“Mya!” I say, my stomach sinking.
She holds up her hands in surrender “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! It just kind of slipped out when we were talking the other day.”
My mother has never understood my career choice to be an author. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t even see it as a career. She just thinks it’s a hobby. She doesn’t see the countless hours of work I put into my writing. She doesn’t see all the time and energy I put into trying to perfect my craft and deliver the best books possible to readers that seem to love them. It doesn’t make sense to her.
But then again, my mother has never really seen anything I’ve done as an accomplishment. Old hurt and resentment stir to life inside of me like an old festering wound that won’t go away.
“What did she say?” I ask.
Mya’s eyes bore beseechingly into mine and she grabs my hand across the table.
“That’s the thing. She seemed really happy and she decided to throw you a little get together as a way to celebrate. I was supposed to bring you out to eat and then we’ll go over to mom and dad’s house to celebrate.”
Mya has never gotten my mother and I’s relationship. She thinks it can be fixed. She’s optimistic like that. But then again, her relationship has never been nearly as fractured or broken as ours have.
I on the other hand gave up on the idea of a normal relationship with my mother a long time ago.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve never felt like we connected. That familial bond that most mothers and daughters are supposed to have never clicked with us. It clicked between her and Mya, though.
That’s what I had my dad for. Growing up, he was always extremely busy with work. He always made time for Mya and I equally. He would go to Mya’s pageants and watch TV and read books with me. He even went to Levi’s football games throughout middle school and high school with me when he could. To this day we watch Sunday football games together whenever he doesn’t have to work.
I’ve never had any sort of connection like that with my mother. I made peace with how things were between us a long time ago. Kind of. A little.
But now, new hope begins to rise inside of me.
“She really planned an entire party to celebrate my book being a bestseller?” I ask.
Mya’s eyes are filled with a hope that I’m trying to contain. “Yes, she planned it all herself. Actually,” she says glancing down at her watch. “We should get going now.”
“O-Okay.” What could it hurt to give this a chance? Maybe we’ll finally have something to bond over.
Mya grabs my hand as we walk out of the pizzeria together.
“It’ll be great I promise.”
***
Famous last words.
It’ll be great, she said.
I should have known something was off the moment we pulled up to my parent’s large three-story brick home in the northern suburbs of Chicago. At least a dozen or more cars are parked in the circular driveway.
I’m pretty sure there are more cars here than actual people I know.
Once Mya and I moved out they moved into an even bigger home on the north side.
They are more rooms in this house than they know what to do with. With my father’s job as a surgeon and my mother’s boutique that she started after Mya stopped competing in pageants, they can more than afford it.
Mya uses her key to get in, just as our mother is coming around the corner.
“Darlings,” she says a big smile gracing her face as she comes towards us.
She’s dressed impeccably as always in a fitted black skirt, black high heels, a red blouse and a black blazer. Mya and I got our hazel eyes from our father, but we get our bronze skin complexion and our long dark hair from our mother, which she wears in a bun at the nape of her
neck.
“Hey mom,” Mya says kissing her on the cheek as she accepts the hug.
Then she turns to me with that smile still firmly in place.
“Mia. Hello darling,” she says kissing me on the cheek as well.
“Hi mother,” I murmur.
She takes a step back and eyes my outfit. I’m dressed in my usual jeans and a cardigan sweater. I can feel her judging my outfit.
“Didn’t Mya tell you I was having a party for you?” she asks.
Yes, but why didn’t you call me yourself to tell me? The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I refrain from letting them slip out. She’s making an effort by throwing this party, I can do the same.
“Yes, but I didn’t know until we got to the pizzeria or else, I would have worn something else.”
“She looks great,” Mya says grabbing my hand and squeezing it.
Mom’s eyes do another sweep of my outfit before she pastes another smile on her face.
“It’ll have to do. Come. Everybody’s waiting.”
My hand tightens instinctually around Mya’s as I once again fight to bite my tongue.
Think positive. Think positive. Think positive.
I repeat the mantra to myself over and over again as we follow my mother down the long hallway to the dining room where I can hear a lot of voices.
I’ve almost convinced myself that this will be a good thing. Until we get to the entrance way of the living room and I see who’s in the living room.
Men. Lots and lots of men.
They all stop talking and turn to stare at us as we enter the room. My palms start to sweat as I pull my hand from Mya’s
“Uh…” I say at a loss for words.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Mya asks
“Gentlemen, this is my daughter Mia. Mia, these are some gentlemen I thought you’d like to get to know.”
All at once it hits me. This isn’t a party to celebrate my accomplishment. This is my mother’s own twisted way of trying to get me to settle down and get married.
“What?” Mya gasps and I can tell by her tone that she had nothing to do with this.
I can’t take my eyes away from the group of men standing there. There has to be at least twenty-five to thirty men in this room. They stand around in small groups sipping drinks and eating bite-sized food that is circulating around the room. I see Mya’s fiancée talking to a few men to our right.
Shock is swiftly followed by anger. I cannot fucking believe this. How could see do this to me?
I turn to my mother ready to unleash every pent-up feelings and emotions inside of me when another voice stops me.
“Excuse me, Mia, right?”
I turn to see a man in a tan suit standing behind me. He is handsome and has a nice smile, yet when I shake his hand, I don’t feel even a tenth of a spark of attraction. I quickly pull my hand out of his.
“Yes.”
“My name is Caden. I was wondering if you wanted to go talk?” he asks.
Everything in me wants to say no, but manners suggest I be polite.
“Okay,” I murmur.
I shoot Mya a look before I walk a good distance away with Caden.
“So your mother tells me you write novels.”
“Yes, I write romantic suspense novels.”
He frowns and the light goes out of his eyes.
“Romantic Suspense? Ah, I didn’t realize one could make a career out of that.”
And that’s how it goes for the next hour. Man after man comes up to me trying to start a conversation and once they realize what I do for a living they offer some back handed compliment about it.
After guy number seven comes and goes, I figure I’ve had enough. My blood is boiling as I make my way out of the room and down the hallway.
I don’t care that Mya drove; I’ll call a cab. Hell, at this point I’ll walk back to my apartment. I just want out.
“Young lady, where do you think you’re going?” I hear my mother say from behind me.
“Leaving,” I say not even bothering to turn around.
“Now just wait a minute,” she says grabbing my arm. I spin around meeting her furious gaze.
“I went through the trouble of setting this entire party up for you and thi-“
“You didn’t do this for me. You did this for yourself,” I say cutting her off.
I see Mya approaching us from the corner of my eye, but I don’t give her a second glance. Not right now.
Mom let’s out a short laugh, but there’s nothing humorous about it.
“Well how else am I supposed to get you married off? All you do is sit in your apartment writing those godforsaken romance novels. How are you supposed to meet a man doing that, huh?” she says.
My face flushes. My heart which was already pounding, seems to pick up the pace.
“Here we go with my career choices again. Those godforsaken romance novels you seem to hate so much pay my bills. They make the people that read them happy. Not that you give a damn.” At this point I’m yelling, and I don’t care.
Mom gasp. “Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady. Your father and I didn’t raise you and sacrifice like we did for you to throw away your life like this!”
“Throw away my life? Are you serious right? How exactly is doing something I love throwing away my life?” I yell
“You are such an embarrassment.”
Her eyes widen when the words leave her mouth. I hear a gasp to my left that could have only come from Mya.
I just stare at her in shocked silence. I’ve always thought she thought of me as an embarrassment, but I never thought she’d actually say those words to me.
“Mom, how could you say that?” Mya asks.
Mom’s face blanks before my very eyes. “I-I-,” she stutters.
“She said what she meant, Mya.” I laugh but it gets stuck in my throat as pain claws at my chest. Despite how fractured our relationship has always been there was a part of me deep down inside that hoped we could fix it. That part just died a fiery death. “I am so out of here.”
Without another word I turn on my heel and head for the door.
My emotions are at their boiling point. I can barely breathe as I storm down the steps. Taking out my phone I quickly pull up the uber app to get one to come as fast as possible.
“Mia! Wait!” I hear Mya saying behind me.
I turn on her.
“Now do you see? Do you get it now? Huh?” I say and I hate that my voice cracks.
Mya draws up short, her eyes glimmering with tears. “S-she didn’t mean it Mia.”
A short laugh burst out of me. “That’s bullshit and you know it. My relationship with her has never been good, you may have had blinders on to it, but it can’t get any clearer than what you just saw. There were almost thirty men in their, Mya. Thirty! Not only am I an embarrassment to her, but I’m so pathetic, I can’t even get a date without her doing it for me.”
“I’m sorry.” Mya whispers and I hope that she’s finally seeing this for what it is.
“It’s alright. But I- I need to go.”
“Okay, yeah, Peter and I will take you home.”
“That’s okay. I already have an Uber coming.”
“Are you sure, because I can-“
“Just go, Mya. I’m fine.”
We both know that’s a lie. But I’m sure she can sense that I need my space right now because she relents. “Okay, call me later.”
I watch her go back into the house before I turn my back on it.
You’re such an embarrassment. Embarrassment. The words reverberate over and over in my head. I can feel the unshed tears building up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Thankfully the Uber pulls up a few seconds later. I give the man the address to where I need to go.
There’s only one person I want to see right now, the only man who can calm me down.
***
Twenty minutes later I’m standing outside the building where Levi’s photosho
ot is taking place. He got back in town two days ago, but I haven’t seen him because he’s been working so much. He texted me and told me he had to do a couple of reshoots today. We were supposed to get together tomorrow, but I can’t wait.
I need to see him.
He’s the only person who seems to understand the relationship my mother and I have. I make my way inside of the building and follow the sounds of voices and a clicking camera.
I turn the corner and see Levi sitting in a chair talking and laughing with Jayce. The mere sight of him with has my heart settling into place.
He’s dressed in a blue turtleneck that molds to his broad shoulders and jeans. His hair is artfully messy, the black strands falling over his forehead.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but you can’t be back here” A man with the word security scrawled across the front steps in front of me.
I take a step back.
“I-I-“
“She’s with me.” Levi says stepping up beside the guy. The security guy steps aside.
“Hey baby girl,” he says.
“Hey.” I murmur looking up into his beautiful eyes.
The smile that was pulling at the corners of his lips vanishes when he gets a good look at me, I don’t know what I look like, but I know it’s probably not good.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, placing a hand on the small of my back.
“Hey Mia,” Jayce says coming to a stop next to us.
“Hey Jayce,” I say giving him a weak smile.
He frowns. “Is everything alright?”
“Um,” my eyes meet Levi’s worried ones. “Can we go somewhere and talk? I can come back another time if you’re busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you. Come on,” he says grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hall.
The feeling of his hand in mine has an electric current shooting up my arm. He leads me to a trailer, pulls me inside and closes the door behind him. There is a large black couch pressed up against the wall. A long wooden table sits in front of it. There’s a mirror and a chair we’re I’m assuming he gets ready for the shoots at. His scent, a mixture of clean linen and spice permeate the air, calming my nerves.
“What’s wrong?” he says focusing on me as he crosses his arms over his chest.