by Molly Harper, Stephanie Haefner, Liora Blake, Gabra Zackman, Andrea Laurence, Colette Auclair
Seeing what Oliver was going through with his mother made her appreciate her own family so much more. One of them could be on their deathbed at any moment. She didn’t want to waste any more time with animosity between them.
“Yes. A big happy family. That’s all I ever wanted.”
Mia hadn’t realized it, but she wanted that, too. Now that she knew the truth about her father and him having no part in the sabotage of her business, they could work on mending their relationship.
“So, you’re gonna take the job with Daddy?”
Mia hated to erase Riley’s excitement. “No. But he told me he wants our family back. That he’s done asking me to work for him. I didn’t believe him at first, but I do now. He’s even started hiring new people.”
“Really?” The excitement was back.
“Yeah. I think things are gonna be much different. In a real good way.”
Mia and Riley smiled at each other, Gianna content on Mia’s lap, Nico suckling away at his bottle. It felt good to make peace with her sister. Her dad, well, that was another story. It would be tough, but she knew she could do it.
“Hey. There you are,” Oliver said and sat down next to Mia, two beverages and a bag of muffins.
“Hey.” Mia looked from Oliver to Riley, who had a smirk on her face, an eyebrow raised. “This is Oliver.” She turned back to him. “Oliver, this is my sister. And Baby Nico. And this little miss is Gianna.”
Oliver stuck out his hand to Riley. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise.” Riley turned to Mia, voice low, and winked. “Mmm. Nice. I may not have been at the party long, but I did see the”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“toys.”
Mia’s cheeks blazed and she noticed Oliver was blushing, too.
“Um. Thanks. I think,” Mia said.
Riley checked her watch. “We gotta go.” She strapped the baby against her, sound asleep in a postbottle coma. She gave a little wave as she took Gianna’s hand and said, “See ya later.”
Mia’s cheeks hurt from how big her smile was. Everything was working out.
OLIVER REACHED for Mia’s hand as they walked to the street, letting go only when he had to walk around to his side of the car, reconnecting with her the second they took off. He looked down at his wrinkled clothes. Not the best first impression for meeting Mia’s sister, and surely his father would lecture him about his attire, but he didn’t care. The smile he’d see on his mother’s face would far outshine any negativity his father could throw.
When they approached the hospital room, Dr. Campbell stood outside with his father.
“How is she today?” Oliver asked.
The doctor responded first. “Good. Ready to go home. She seems pretty anxious.”
“I think this is a ridiculous idea,” his father remarked. “She’ll get far better care here in the hospital.”
“Lucky for her, it doesn’t matter what you think,” Oliver said. “She wants to die at home and I will not let you deny her that. I’ve set it up and Dr. Campbell has signed off on it. I’ve arranged for constant nurse care and the doctor will be in to see her several times a day.”
The glare from his father could have burned down the entire hospital. “If this ends badly, it’s on your head. Remember that.” He looked him up and down. “You look like you slept in your clothes. Couldn’t you make yourself presentable for your mother?”
“Trust me, she’ll be ecstatic when she sees me.”
Mr. Christiansen shook his head and stalked away, the doctor excusing himself to check on another patient.
“Ready?” Oliver asked Mia, squeezing her hand.
She nodded, and he led her into the room. They barely made it two steps before his mother smiled the widest he’d ever seen.
“You went to see her.” She paused to catch her breath. “Just like you promised.”
“I did. And I told her I love her.”
Her eyes begged for the rest.
“And she loves me, too.”
Ginny’s face lit up even more, her eyes clouded with moisture, and held her hands to them. “I knew it.”
Oliver took one hand, and Mia the other, a happy little circle. “And after we get you settled at home, I’m moving my things into Mia’s place.”
“That’s so wonderful.” Her breaths seeming a bit more ragged.
“Why don’t you rest now? All this excitement is wearing you out.”
She shook her head, her hand squeezing his, albeit weakly. Her words came out barely above a whisper. “Nothing is more important than love. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
He smiled at her. “I know. I’m happy, Mom. Happier than I’ve ever been. Now, will you please rest?”
She nodded and folded her hands on her chest. A smile still on her face, she let her eyes close. Oliver pulled two chairs next to the bed and he and Mia sat.
“Her smile means so much to me.”
Mia looked to Ginny, then back to Oliver. “She’s a wonderful lady.”
“She is. My whole life, all she did was take care of me. Make sure I was happy. I can only hope I was worthy of that.”
“I think that’s the proof of a great mom. She takes joy in seeing her child happy. That’s all any parent wants, even if it takes them awhile to figure it out.”
“So, will I get to meet your famous father soon?”
“Yeah. I think things are going to be very different with my family now, thanks to you.”
Oliver leaned over and kissed her, just a soft little kiss. But it was interrupted by Dr. Campbell and a nurse, rushing in. “Is something wrong?”
The doctor observed the machines and quickly put his stethoscope to Ginny’s chest. After a moment he looked up. And Oliver knew.
“No. She was just talking to us. It couldn’t have happened that fast.” His eyes filled with tears. How could she be there one minute and gone the next? “The alarms on the machines didn’t even go off.”
“She asked me to turn them off. She didn’t want them to alert everyone that she had passed. You know she had a DNR. She didn’t want to be resuscitated and wanted to go peacefully.”
Oliver nodded. He’d known all this for months. He’d known exactly how she’d wanted her end to be. And it had almost played out exactly as she’d planned. But she’d died in the hospital. She’d wanted to die at home, surrounded by her things, the things she loved.
Mia wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’m so sorry.”
He gripped her body, clinging to her in fear of collapsing. He’d failed his mother at the very end of her life.
Dr. Campbell came to Oliver. “I’m sorry, Mr. Christensen. Would you like to stay with her while I track down your father?”
He nodded and the doctor left. He took his mother’s hand and sat. It still felt warm. How could she be gone? He brought it to his lips, his tears falling, no way to control them.
Mia’s hand rubbed circles across his back. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Tell me how I can live the rest of my life knowing I didn’t fulfill her last wish.”
“But I think you did.”
He turned, already so comfortable with her he didn’t care that she’d see his face a mess, tears streaming down. “How? She died in a sterile hospital room, surrounded by white walls.”
“But you were here with her. And you’d just told her you were happier than you’ve ever been. Maybe that’s all she really needed.”
Oliver thought back to his last few meetings with his mother. All she’d talked about was him, and if he was happy. Maybe Mia was right. Maybe his mother had seen how happy he was and knew it was okay for her to leave. She knew he’d be all right.
“Thank you.” He reached for her hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
MIA LEFT the hospital with Oliver. His father had requested some time alone with his wife before they took her body from the room. They drove to his parents’ house. If she’d thought the Montanari homestead was big,
that was nothing. Oliver opened the door to the mansion and they were met by a housekeeper. Just the look on Oliver’s face was enough to tell the woman everything.
She nodded and blinked away tears. “I’ll start preparing for the funeral.”
“Thank you.” Oliver reached for Mia’s hand and led her to the back of the house, through a sliding glass door. “She insisted on holding the breakfast here. Wanted tables set up on the lawn. I told her we’d need to have a backup plan in case it rained. But she just knew it would be gorgeous out.” He looked up at the blue sky, not a cloud in sight. “And she was right. It’s supposed to be sunny and seventy-five all week.”
They walked to a tall oak. “She had this all planned. We knew it was coming, but it really didn’t make it any easier.”
Death was never easy, whether it was all planned out like Ginny’s or sudden and tragic like Johnny’s. But the one thing that made any of it easier was having support. Mia knew that. She’d stood by Bryn and did whatever she’d needed, and she’d do the same for Oliver. Because she loved him. Love trumped all, even death. Love had given her the courage to face whatever was in her future. Joy, sadness, heartache. She knew those things would come, but even the bad times would be worth it if she had Oliver there to support her and love her.
Life was never perfect, and no one person was for that matter, either, but a life without true love, a soul mate, pretty much sucked. Mia knew that now. And all the things she’d been afraid of before seemed to disappear. She knew she was sticking her neck out, but real, passionate, gotta-be-with-that-person-no-matter-what love was rare, and so totally worth the risk.
CHAPTER Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Mia rang up her customer’s purchases, pleased with their latest promotional event. The red carpet party, which actually had a hot pink carpet that guests walked in on, had been a huge success. More than five hundred people had signed up for the giveaway, and randomly selecting twenty-five for the party—a mix of both women and men—had been excruciating. Each was allowed to bring one guest, for a total of fifty. Mia and Bryn had the party catered and their sexy models donned hot pink briefs and matching bow ties as they served canapés from silver trays.
Oliver passed by the front counter on his way to refill his tray and winked at her, crazy sexy smile across his face. He’d moved in right after his mother’s funeral, which had been elegant and beautiful, just as Mia knew his mother had been in life. The day had been a celebration of her, and as sad as it had been to lose her, Oliver knew she was in a pain-free place now, watching them, at peace.
And Mia’s family was in a good place, too. After a long father-daughter chat over hot cocoa and doughnuts—just as they’d done when she was a child—she’d patched things up with her father. They both were making honest efforts to reconnect, understand, and accept each other. The Great Antonio Montanari had learned to trust people more, too. After firing Grant for his part in sabotaging his daughter’s company, he’d hired a new accountant and two more employees. That allowed Nico to leave every day on time, with two days off each week, and be the father Riley so desperately needed for her family and her sanity.
Mia and her sister were on the mend, too. Nico being home more allowed Riley time away from the house, sans children. Sometimes she and Mia had dinner alone for lots of sisterly bonding, and other times they joined Bryn and Penny. Mia felt closer to her sister than she had in years.
Their mother and father were closer, too, finally buying that RV. They weren’t ready to take off for months on end, but were planning a few weeklong vacations over the coming year. They needed some rest and relaxation, and Mia was pretty sure The Great Antonio Montonari was ready to take a few steps back and just be Tony again. Let someone else do the commercials. Maybe even come up with a new slogan. Thank God!
Oliver came back out, his tray now filled with mini quiches. “Would you like one, my love?”
“I’m famished,” Mia said, snagging a snack and a kiss from Oliver.
“Lucky bitch,” the guy at the front of the line mumbled.
Mia turned and met his sly grin. “You know it.”
She was a lucky girl, unlike Alexiana. They’d heard through the high society grapevine that she’d come clean with her parents, begging for their help with the baby. They’d refused, disgusted that their bloodline would be muddled by that of a poor yoga instructor. Last Mia and Oliver had heard, Alexiana had shacked up with Chris, who had decided he was super excited about becoming a dad and had every intention of raising the baby with Alexiana. Who knew? Maybe some time outside her snobby bubble would change her for the better.
But in the meantime, Mia concentrated on her own fabulous life. The shop was thriving. Her family was back on track. Her sex life had skyrocketed. And she was in love for probably the first time ever. It couldn’t get any better.
Bryn popped behind the front counter as Mia finished ringing up her customer. The line had diminished, everyone now queued up for photos with Logan and Oliver.
Bryn handed her a glass of champagne. “How do you like seeing your man over there being adored and touched by horny women and men?”
“Eh, I’m good. I know who he’s coming home with.” She winked and sipped her bubbly beverage.
“So what’s next for Classy ’n’ Sassy?” Bryn asked, and Mia knew that twinkle in her eye. “I had a guy call earlier asking if we’d be interested in teaming up for his new porn flick.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that. I think we should stick to what we got here. Why mess with success?”
“Seems like we did good with the whole dildo thing.” Bryn picked up a sample Oliver that had been left on the counter. “You taking one of these home for something a little kinky tonight?”
“Hell, no. I got the real thing. And trust me, the faux version can’t even possibly compare.”
Don't miss the next book in the sexy Classy 'n' Sassy series!
Size Matters
* * *
ORDER YOUR COPIES TODAY!
About the Author
Stephanie Haefner is a wife, mother of two, and contemporary romance novelist from Buffalo, New York. She loves creating sassy heroines and tossing them into sexy circumstances. Try Me On for Size is her first novel with Pocket Star, and she’s currently at work on its sequel, Size Matters. When not writing, she celebrates her sassiness with dance and Zumba classes, and her nerdiness with boy bands and Disney World.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: authors.simonandschuster.com/Stephanie-Haefner
MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT
SimonandSchuster.com
1
For a tiny rural town in the middle of Montana, Weck’s Drug has an inexplicably vast selection of pregnancy tests. Not that I need one. It’s my sister, Lacey, who does. Again.
You would think a smart, capable, grown woman would learn that spending a Friday night drinking cheap beer and flirting shamelessly with guys you went to community college with eight years ago almost always ends in regret. Despite this seemingly obvious fact, my sister has sent me to Weck’s Drug more than once (six times in the last eight years, but who’s counting) on this particular errand. Old Mrs. Weck probably thought I was a complete doorknob by now. At ninety-seven, she still rings up every sale in our little country drugstore and probably knows more dirty secrets about the fine folks of Crowell than anyone. Thankfully, she has been steadily going deaf for the last ten years and is getting more senile by the day.
Under the sallow, glaring display lights, I peruse the selection for a kit that seems cheap yet reliable. I can’t count on Lacey to pay me back, even though this seems like the kind of expense you certainly should pay someone back for. Perhaps she could even throw in a little bonus for my efforts and the minor shame that old Mrs. Weck’s quiet tutting would inevitably inspire.
As for why my sister can’t perform this little errand herself? Well, she doesn’t want anyone to think she is a harlot, obviously. Because Lacey has always spent
far too much time caring what other people think. Even years later, she wants everyone to think she is still a pious good-girl cheerleader: acting appropriately, smiling on cue, and keeping her legs demurely crossed.
I, on the other hand, was never a cheerleader. I was the teenage girl who read dog-eared copies of Henry Miller and scribbled bad poetry in a composition book. And, in the years since my husband, James, died, I’ve figured out what truly matters in the end. Things like kindness and honesty from a man who really wants to kiss you in the morning before you brush your teeth. Men who grin and watch you when they think you don’t see. The way those kinds of men leave a gaping hole in your heart when they’re gone.
Everything else is a distraction. In the last three years, I’ve wept and trudged my way through the kind of grief that makes everything pale in its wake. So if old Mrs. Weck thought I was floozying it up all over town, so be it.
As if anyone really cares, anyway. In a town like Crowell, gossip is barely a passing diversion. Even the most scintillating tales are half-forgotten before the stoplights in town turn flashing red for the night.
When my cell phone chirps from the back pocket of my jeans, I fully expect Lacey on the other end, whining and moaning to know when I’ll be back.
“Lacey, buying a pregnancy test is a critical decision. Don’t rush me.” I breathe calmly into the phone.
“Pregnancy test? What the hell is going on in that shit-hole town of yours, Kate? Finally found a man that would bed you without his spurs on?”
The voice on the other end bellows with the kind of sarcasm that identifies the caller as my literary agent, Stephen King. No, I’m not kidding. He really is a literary agent named Stephen King, and he doesn’t find it nearly as amusing as I do.
“Stephen. Hello. Pleasure to hear from you.” I pull a box off the shelf, deciding to relent and spend the long dollar for the brand-name test. She’s my sister, after all. If you can’t break the bank on her, who can you do it for?