If I Only Knew(27)



“Stop moving or your face isn’t going to be perfect for your date.”

“It is not a date,” I correct.

This is a business meeting-slash-coercion mission thanks to my assistant. After another three days of following up with the city only to be ignored, Milo asked me to let him off his leash. He explained that he has a connection—that he made in less than a month of living here—in the inspector’s office.

Last night, I got a call that everything was set. I needed to be dressed to the nines because we had a dinner with the inspector and his girlfriend.

Milo begged me to trust him and let him work his angle since we tried mine and have come up short.

Trusting him is a stretch, but I’m tired of being dicked around by this guy and if Milo has the in, I’m willing to take it. However, this is not a date.

“Whatever. You’re dressed up, have sexy underwear on, and you’re wearing fuck me shoes, it’s a date.”

“Ava Kristin Bergen,” I hiss. “Don’t use that word around me, and these shoes are the ones you made me wear.”

“Because they’re hot, Mom. You need to look hot if you’re going to follow Milo’s plan. Now, stop moving so I can fix your face.”

Fix my face? “What the hell is wrong with my face?”

Her upper lip rises and she shrugs. “I guess nothing’s wrong with it if you plucked your eyebrows more often and maybe put some makeup on.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m just saying, Mom. You’re getting older and it’s going to be harder to attract a man if you don’t put a little effort in.”

I slap her leg. “I’m not old. And I don’t want a man.”

I’m fine being alone. I have my kids, my job, and my friends. There’s nothing a guy is going to bring to my life other than a headache . . . and maybe an orgasm, but I can make that happen on my own.

“Sure, you’re almost forty.”

“Yeah, almost, but not yet.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “Well, when I’m done with you, you’ll look twenty and hopefully you won’t look frumpy.”

Peter and I used to joke about what we’d do if something happened to one of us, and I always said I would never remarry. Maybe it was because we never wanted to get married in the first place. We loved each other, but we had goals bigger than a wedding ring. I wanted to build an empire in real estate and he was going to be partner.

Then, I got pregnant and we had to alter that. Well, I did.

I look at my daughter, the child we didn’t plan for who brought me down this road, and touch her hand. “I know you and I have had our differences, but I want you to know how much I love you, Ava. Thank you for helping me tonight.”

Ava sighs and for a moment, the walls she’s built around herself come down. “I love you too, Mom. But if you don’t shut up and let me concentrate, you’re going to have contour on the wrong part of your face.”

And then they’re back up.

“How did you learn all this anyway?” I ask.

“YouTube.”

Great. Now I’m really scared.

I sit in silence as Ava continues to grab things, paint my face, and hmm and haw at her work. I have no idea what I look like, but she’s pleased.

“Done,” she announces.

I stand up, and she moves quickly in front of me. “Ava, move.”

“No! You can’t look. You have to trust me.”

Yeah, that’s a problem. I don’t trust her. This is the ultimate way she could serve revenge for her grounding.

“Nope, move.”

“Mom! Please!” she begs. “I promise, you look gorgeous. Just walk out there, and see what Milo and Parker think. If you don’t look hot, he won’t take you and you know that Parker will say something.”

She’s right there. Parker still has that childlike honesty that every woman hates. He likes to poke my side and ask why it jiggles. Or when he touches the lines around my eyes and asks why they crinkle like Grandma’s.

Everyone should have kids, they’re great for self-esteem. Said no one ever.

“Fine, but if I do this and I look like the bride of Chuckie or something, you’re grounded for an extra month, got it?”

She nods. “Yup. And if you look gorgeous, I get my phone back tomorrow?”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Not on your life, but nice try.”

I release a nervous sigh and start to walk, but these shoes are impossible. Peter bought me a pair of Christian Louboutins for our ten-year anniversary. He said I never would’ve bought them myself, so he took care of it. I wore them once, thought my feet were broken, and never wore them again. Plus, I look like a baby giraffe finding its legs when I walk.

Nicole looks like a runway model. I look like a moron.

However, they matched the barely-there dress I’m wearing perfectly.

I’m going to get fired when Callum hears about the fool I’m about to make of myself. There’s not a doubt in my mind. I let Milo rope me into tonight and I’m going to end up paying for it.

I stumble trying to get out of the bathroom, but Ava grabs my elbow. “Really, Mom?”

“Listen, the best-case scenario tonight is that I don’t break an ankle.”

She huffs as she walks to her room mumbling. “No hope.”

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