Page 29 of Meet Your Match
Maven smiled a bit at that.
“I take it you’re the oldest of your siblings,” I observed. “You’ve got the first-born attitude, too.”
“Only-born,” she amended, and her face softened a bit. “I was a miracle baby.”
I frowned, swallowing another bite before I asked, “How so?”
“My parents weren’t sure they wanted to have kids when they first got married. They were in AmeriCorps together, which meant they didn’t really have roots set in place. They were so focused on helping other people, they didn’t really think about themselves. But one day, Mom decided she wanted a baby, and Dad has always done whatever Mom wants.” She smiled, making designs with her fork on the leftover compote on her plate. “That’s when they found out Mom had cervical cancer.”
My heart bottomed out in my chest. I wasn’t expecting such a vulnerable admission, not from the woman who had been hard as steel around me.
“They caught it early, thankfully, but the doctors still weren’t sure she’d ever have kids.” Maven looked at me then. “She had two miscarriages before she had me, and not too long after I was born, the cancer came back, and she had to have her uterus removed.”
I balked. I didn’t have a single word to say to that.
“So, it’s just me,” she said, smiling on a little bounce of her shoulders. “Their miracle baby.”
“You three are close.” I said it as a statement, not as a question. “You post a lot of photos with them.”
“I do. Creeper.”
I smirked. “Hey, you left an impression on me at the gala. Not my fault your bestie dropped your full name, and I couldn’t resist the urge to look you up.”
“Damn it, Livia…”
“It surprised me,” I admitted. “What I found when I did.”
She propped her chin on her palm again. “Why? What did you expect?”
“Not a barefoot hippy working in her garden.”
Maven sighed. “I’m not sure I classify as a true hippy,” she said. “Not with how conflicted I am. Part of me feels like throwing caution to the wind and living my life in a tent. The other half of me wants a career and money and a nice, clean place to lay my head at night.”
“Why does it have to be one or the other?”
“It doesn’t, I guess.” She considered. “It’s just odd. I feel like the loudest inner parts of me are at war. I enjoy my job, especially the thought of using it for good. But then I think about what my jobis,social media, and I just… laugh at myself. Because it’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not,” I told her. “It’s essentially you being a modern-day journalist. And trust me, the fact that you want to use all those followers you have for any kind of good sets you apart from the norm.”
She offered me a soft smile, and then another longing breath left her chest. “I miss my plant babies, and my bed. I miss mylife, honestly.”
“I’m sure it’s hard, walking away from your routine for all of this.” I waved my hand in the air.
“I mean, I’m not sure I have as much of a routine asyoudo,” she teased. “But, yes. It’s… different.”
“In a bad way?”
“Just… different. I’m not used to such a lavish lifestyle.” She gestured to my condo. “This place costs more money than me or my family have ever seen in our lives. I flew on a private plane to and from Boston in twenty-fourhours’ time. I stayed in a plush hotel suite with a balcony overlooking the city and a bathtub big enough to fit five people in it.”
“It is a lot,” I admitted.
“I’m sure you’re used to it.”
“I’ve kind of grown up in it,” I admitted, and for some reason, I felt a little ashamed. “But I guess you already knew that, judging by your comments the first night we met.”
Maven’s eyes flicked between mine, almost like she was sorry. But then, she snuffed a laugh out of her nose. “Please don’t act like you were offended. Or like you don’t enjoy the women who fall all over you or the guys who would lick your skate if you let them.”
“I’ve always wanted to be the best,” I said, taking our plates to the sink. “And notallthe women fall all over me,” I added pointedly, glancing at her as I rinsed the dishes.
