“It’s true, mija.”
I laugh. What else can I do knowing she’s already fabricating our first date, first kiss . . . first everything? “It may be true, but with my current string of luck, I’d show up in my new shoes, snag a heel in a crack, and somehow take down the whole table or something.”
“Or maybe you’ll fall into your prince and he’ll catch you, Cinder.”
And there it is. The fairytale.
“I love you, but princes don’t exist and I don’t need any man to catch me. I can manage perfectly all on my own.”
“Mija,” she tsks. “Just because your father wasn’t the best of men, doesn’t mean all men are like that.”
I shake away the thought of the man who left us high, dry, and broke when I was little. The man who taught me that love is fleeting, it messes with your self-worth, and always has its conditions.
“It seems to me like they are.”
“How many times have I warned you not to let everything with your father jade your views on love. You have to move on. You have to believe the right person is out there for you.”
“And you think that person is Zane.” I lift my eyebrows in question.
“He could be. You never know. What is it about him that—”
“Let’s see. He’s selfish. He thinks the world revolves around him. He thinks he can snap his fingers and I’ll jump. He may not be exactly like dad, mom, but he sure as hell sounds like a man I should stay far away from. Assholes come in all shapes and sizes.”
“So does love.”
“I believe you said those similar words to me after Jamie explained to me after five months that women are like milk—they have expiration dates. And then again when I walked in on Finn in bed with someone else. Or what about—”
“I believe I said, when you find the right one, love will take on whatever form it needs to in order for a relationship to work. Quit putting words in my mouth, mija, because it sounds an awful lot like those heels of yours are digging in harder.”
I turn and look out the window to the street beyond, my sigh filling the small but common area.
“It’s just a party, Low. Why are you making this such a big deal?”
Because you’re right. Because I could see myself liking this guy even though I hate him. Because he’s all those things you said and more even though I don’t want to admit it.
When I turn to face her, a soft smile is on her lips and resignation rifles through me.
“I don’t even know anything about the party other than he said it’s industry people. What exactly does that mean? The whole thing seems way too sketchy.” I explain.
“So? Why not go and if you don’t like it, leave. If you don’t show up, you’ll never know.”
“So what would I even be going to? For all I know it’s a swingers party.”
My mom laughs and it’s good to see a smile on her face. She’s been putting in too much overtime and looks tired. “You and your imagination. It’s always gotten you in trouble.” She pats the spot beside her for me to sit. “I’m sure it’s not a swingers party. It’s a cocktail party. People mingle. They network. They trade business cards. They wear sexy high heels.” She winks. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
“Then why are you making it one?” I ask in exasperation as I sit down.
“Because, my beautiful mija works so hard to be independent, and I love that. But sometimes, when a successful and handsome man invites you to a party, you need to kick back a little and have some fun.”
“I’m not his date, mom.”
“But you could be . . .” She lets the words hang while I roll my eyes. She doesn’t get it. She didn’t meet Zane and his frustrating ways. She only sees him as a possibility while I see him as someone who feels sorry for me and is trying to ease his guilt for thinking I was his lowly dog walker.
It doesn’t matter what I say, the woman is a hardcore romantic and she won’t listen.
“Like I said, Mom. Somehow I’d end up with a broken neck.”
Why am I talking myself out of it when I have no intention of going?
“Pshaw. You are beautiful. One look at you and . . .” She waggles her eyebrows.
“And what? He’ll add me to his dating app so he can make sure to put me on his roster of possibles? No thanks.”
“You’re going and—”
“No, I’m not—”
“And I’ll give you an aspirin to hold between your knees to make sure you don’t fall to his no good ways.”
My laugh echoes around the living room. “Mom, I could fill a whole prescription bottle with the amount of aspirin I’ve dropped.” I duck when she swats my way and fall back onto the cushions laughing.
“Harlow!” Swat. “Don’t you say that.” Swat. Our laughter echoes off the living room walls and she keeps at it until I hold my hands up in mock surrender.
“I’m joking. I swear. I’m joking.” She stops and presses a loud smack of a kiss to my forehead.
“You better be.”