Page 61 of Miles Apart
Miles nods. “We have a team meeting that might run late. I’ll meet you there. Anything else to know?”
“You’ve seen them in action. My father is always in campaign mode, too busy to notice anything else. My mother will purse her lips at anything deemed unworthy of her time. Blair is”—I laugh—“Blair, and you met Carter.” That sums it up: one wealthy, dysfunctional family.
“Why do you put up with it?”
I shrug. “Sometimes we want what we can’t have. I love my family but wish things were different. What about you?” Iflavor my tone with more enthusiasm. “Are you close with your mother?”
He nods. “We talk a few times a week when I’m not in Jersey or in a location with decent service.”
“That’s very sweet,” I say against a sourness forming in the pit of my stomach. I’m happy for Miles—and Justice and Terrence. Growing up without a loving parent didn’t hinder me from my dreams. I had access and privilege because of my father. What I miss are the moments, the lost opportunities to create memories without strings or stipulations.
I still feel the void at thirty-four. With all my success and confidence, I can’t shake wishing I had family who called just because and told me how proud they are. So I tell myself as I continue pouring into my found family while holding onto remnants of hope with loose hands that, one day, my own will come around.
Miles takes our trays once we finish and guides us to the end of the pier. We stand in silence, taking in the breeze and the ocean’s rising waves. The sun sets, trading its sherbet glow for moonlight over endless water. I love the white noise of the ocean. It’s one of the reasons I chose Malibu as my home.
Thick arms wrap around me as a chill creeps into the air. Miles nuzzles his nose into my neck before replacing it with his lips. His mouth moves to mine for a lingering kiss, coaxing me into his warmth. The lines are blurring between us, and I can’t find it in me at the moment to care. Maybe I will tomorrow, but tonight, I allow myself to feel.
Miles follows me back to the house and spends the rest of the night tending to my body. I wake up the next morning with a hum between my legs and a stuffed red panda on the pillow.
Chapter 28
Emma
“All those carbs will go straight to your waistline.”
I roll my eyes and cut into my waffles and berries before taking an obnoxious bite. “Another reminder that you did not have to come given no one invited you.” At Blair’s huff, my smile spreads like the syrup on my plate.
She showed up at my office hours ago, expecting a red carpet rollout out in honor of her presence. The best Blair got was a swatch of linen fabric thrown at her feet. One of the designers in my office laughed at my gesture before Blair ran out in a rush. She’s always suffered from rich bitch syndrome. My aunt pushed a silver spoon into her mouth and treated her ungrateful daughter like the world revolved around her. We never got along. Blair’s envy of my father’s political celebrity is why she weasels her way into events and always stands in front of cameras. She wants her own recognition.
What my father considers loving loyalty would crumble at his feet the second a spot onThe Real Housewives of Beverly Hillsopened up. Blair would shoot up Botox while whining over a salad if she had the storyline to be relevant. For now, I have todeal with her smacking on a tuna tartar tostada and crashing my lunch with Kojo. We’re meeting up with his new stylist who worked on his show in New York while she’s in town.
Waves of chatter and servers flowing past tables drown out whatever Blair is ranting about. Something about the sparkling water not having enough bubbles.
I rush to Kojo when he walks through the door looking every bit of business casual in a color-block striped polo and black slacks. “Save me,” I plead in his ear.
He frowns. “The copper blouse works with your shoes. Undo another button if you feel stuffy.”
I smack his hand and snort. Three open buttons are enough. One more, and this restaurant will see more than my cleavage.
“My cousin is with me.”
“Ooh, the one from Austin? Let me meet her!”
“Justice is my sister-friend. Blair is my aunt’s daughter from Virginia.”
Kojo’s face drops with his tone. “They say charity starts at home. Take the tax deduction. Is she Ms. Pollyanna with the oversized ruffles on her sleeves?” At my nod, he peers down over his designer frames, clearly questioning why she came in here wearing flotation devices. “Let me introduce you to my plus-one. You two have a lot in common.”
My brows tug. “We do?”
“She went to Bodie with us.”
He extends his arm toward the woman on her way over to us. Here, in front of me, is the second person I never wanted to see today. Instead of a puffy-sleeved shirt with jeans, she’s in a classic wrap dress accessorized to perfection.
“Madison.” It’s all I manage through gritted teeth.
“You two know each other?” Kojo’s eyes dart between us.
I’m not the type of person to air out someone’s funky laundry, let alone in a professional setting. But the longer I stand in frontof Madison, the more my hands itch to reenact aLove & Hip Hopepisode.
