CHAPTER THREE
S TEFANIE
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H E’S GONE, STEFANIE . Pull yourself together.
Yeah, he was gone, but the effect of his presence lingered. The scent of his cologne still floated in the air around me. The phantom feel of his lips against my hand was still there, a reminder of that brief goodbye kiss.
His words were on repeat in my mind like a broken record player that I wasn’t sure I was ready to fix. His red flag was still waving in the air. Red. Not green. Julian Cattaneo was a bright red flag, and the sooner I got him out of my head, the better.
Trying to push my encounter with him from my mind, I called my daughter’s phone. She answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey, mom.”
“Hey, sweetie. I’m downstairs.”
“Oh, okay. Here I come. Are you okay, mom?”
“I am. Why?” I asked, frowning.
“I don’t know. You sound different.”
Did I? I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. Just hot. That’s all.” Hot and bothered.
“Okay. On the way. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up.
I slid the phone back into my purse just as the door to the building opened, and in walked.... Julian Cattaneo . My eyes widened. My stomach flipped. My pulse stuttered. Had my wayward thoughts conjured him?
“Why are you back?” I hissed through clenched teeth, worried that my daughter would see us together. Wait! Why was I worried that my daughter would see us together? I hadn’t done anything to be ashamed of.
I may have thought about it. But I hadn’t done it. There was no reason for my daughter not to see us together. Still, I felt guilty. I felt... naughty. I felt as if I needed to avoid Julian at all costs.
“Did you miss me?” Julian asked with a wink.
“No one ever misses trouble,” I replied, trying not to smile.
Oh, no! Was this banter growing on me? Please don’t grow on me. Grow in me. Damn it, Stefanie. Stop being a cougar.
His smirk was pure sin when he asked, “You may not have missed trouble. But what if trouble missed you?”
“Trouble wasn’t gone long enough to miss anything,” I countered.
Yeah, I was enjoying this. Something was wrong with me.
To get things back on track, I asked, “Seriously, why are you back?”
“My sister texted me and asked to borrow some money. I could’ve sent it to her via an app. But, I decided to give her cash.”
I started to speak again, but the door to the first floor burst open, and India appeared with a bright smile on her face, almost as bright as her curly hair, which was now dyed red.
She slung her long curls over her shoulder and asked, “Does it look as cute as I described?”
“Even cuter,” I complimented as she rushed over to give me a hug. “Red looks good on you.”
“Dad was a redhead, and my natural color has red highlights. So, I wanted to see what I’d look like as a ginger. Do I look more like you or dad?” she questioned, arms wrapped around my waist as she stared up at me.
When she was like this, she reminded me of the five-year-old who would come running up to me to ask if her freckles came from me or her dad. They came from both of us. He’d had freckles, too.
And though I hid mine under makeup, I, too, had freckles peppered across my nose that I’d inherited from my great-grandmother. I’d gotten teased about them a lot as a child. A black girl with freckles was funny to some kids.
They’d called me names like Connect the Dots, Poker Face, and Little Miss Chicken Pocks . Kids could be cruel. My India was biracial, and she’d faced some of the same teasing as a child. That was why I’d taught her to love her freckles as a gift her dad left to her so she’d never forget him.
“You look like your dad. Almost his twin,” I told her.
Her smile brightened only to morph into something else entirely when a movement to our right caused her gaze to flicker to Julian. Her eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips as she stared over at him.
She quickly released me and patted her hair, her smile evaporating as she tried to look more serious, more grown-up. I held in my chuckle. Julian wasn’t smiling either. In fact, he looked completely different than he had before.
The Julian I’d just been arguing with? Gone. The moment India stepped in, his shoulders squared, his smirk vanished, and his gaze went flat. Professional. Disinterested. But why? Why was he pretending I hadn’t just seen the wicked side of him?
Gone was his smile and casual demeanor. He stood there, hands in his pockets, back straight, staring ahead. He looked cold and aloof. I frowned. What was he up to now?
My daughter leaned closer to me and whispered, “That’s THE Julian Cattaneo that I was telling you about.”
“THE Julian Cattaneo?” I whispered loud enough for him to hear.
“Shhh,” India hushed me. “Don’t talk so loud.”
Julian didn’t look at me. Not once. He stood there like he didn’t even know me. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders squared. Face unreadable. If I hadn’t just been the victim of his filthy mouth and flirtatious nonsense, I would have believed his little act.
But he couldn’t fool me. I knew what he sounded like when he whispered in my ear. I knew what it felt like when his lips touched my hand. And I damn sure knew what his smirk looked like when he was being all red-flagish.
But I kept all of that to myself. I didn’t need my daughter to know that I’d spent the last ten minutes trying not to let this young man make me come undone.
India cleared her throat and said, “Oh! Julian! Hey!”
Julian finally looked at her. His expression didn’t change. Not even a little. He nodded, cool and composed. Then he stared straight ahead again. I won’t lie, it was good to see that he didn’t flirt with everyone he came across.
“Mom, this is Julian Cattaneo.”
I knew who he was. And like him, I was going to pretend this was my first time laying eyes on him.
“Julian?” I frowned. “Oh, you mean Aubrey’s brother.” India nodded as Julian looked my way. I gave him my best polite smile. “Nice to meet you, young man .”
Julian’s expression remained completely neutral as he nodded. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Adams.”
The way he said that had my mouth suddenly going dry. This was a dangerous little game we were playing. So why did I feel more excited than I’d felt in years?
India, oblivious to the tension surging between Julian and me, continued, “Are you waiting for Aubrey?”
“Yes,” Julian replied, tone still flat. “She asked me for money so that she and her friends could hang out during spring break.”
Something about what he said made India’s smile falter. Panic flared in her hazel eyes before they flickered away from him just a little too quickly, and she cleared her throat. I knew my child. Something was up with her.
“Uh,” she started. “Well, um, Mom, I’m hungry. Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”
She was rambling. My brows lifted. “What’s wrong, Indi?”
India gripped my arm, tugging me toward the door.
“You promised to take me to lunch, remember?” she said quickly. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
I blinked. “What about your luggage?”
“Luggage?” She frowned. “Oh! Luggage! We’ll get it after lunch.”
My gaze narrowed. “India, that doesn’t even make sense. Why not just get it...”
“Because,” she cut in, pulling harder. “Just come on, Mom. Don’t embarrass me.”
Was she trying to get away from Julian because she had a crush on him? I looked at her, then at Julian, whose gaze was glued to me. Please, Lord, don’t tell me I’ve been lusting after a guy my daughter likes.
If so, I’m sure there’s a special place in hell for people like me. I let her drag me toward the door, even as confusion lingered in my mind. But before we could step outside, I glanced back.
Sure enough, Julian Cattaneo was watching me leave, and that damn smirk was back on his face. My body betrayed me. Again . A slow, warm ache curled low in my stomach. A response I didn’t ask for. Didn’t want.
Yet, there it was. All because of the temptation before me. I was a grown woman. I had self-control. And yet, my thighs pressed together on instinct. I hated to admit it, but it was amazing how he could turn his wickedness on and off like that.
He winked. I rolled my eyes. Before I could look away, he mouthed three words to me. This time, I was sure I’d read his lips perfectly. I want you. A wave of heat flashed over me. My gaze jerked forward as my daughter damn near ripped my arm out of its socket to get us away from Julian.
I followed, thankful to finally be moving out of his orbit. Julian Cattaneo was trouble with a capital T. And I was glad to be out from under his spell. If I was lucky, our paths wouldn’t cross again.
Together, India and I were able to locate my car far quicker than I would’ve on my own. As I drove, I listened to the map app on her phone give me directions. We’d both been to this place a handful of times, but neither of us could get there without a map.
The restaurant was one of India’s favorites, a modern little bistro with trendy decor, overpriced salads, and a waitstaff that all looked like they modeled part-time. India had chosen a window seat, and now the bright sun was pouring in and reflecting off her red curls, making her hair glow like flames.
She was gorgeous. Today, my baby was all smiles. I sighed, noting how much I missed having her home. By now, I should be used to her being away at college. However, I had a feeling I’d never get used to it.
An empty home was much worse than I’d thought it would be, much worse than other moms told me it would be. With her gone, the house was quiet. Too quiet. Too boring. Having India away at college proved just how much my world revolved around her.
Today was actually the most fun I’d had in a while, thanks to my back-and-forth with Julian. Ugh! I was still thinking about him. I want you. I closed my eyes and tried to burn the image of his lips mouthing those words to me out of my brain.
I opened my eyes to stare at India, whose gaze was glued to the menu, completely oblivious to how off-balance I was. I wasn’t thinking about food. I was thinking about Julian’s mouth. I wasn’t thinking about eating. I was thinking about being ate.
The words he’d mouthed had caused me to feel heat in places I had no business feeling hot. I was in need of a cold shower. But I feared even that wouldn’t be enough to cool me off. And I hadn’t brought any toys with me.
Ugh . Why was I thinking like that in front of my child? Swallowing, I picked up the menu and held it higher than necessary, blocking my daughter’s view of my guilty face.
“Mom, I can still see you,” India said flatly, not looking up.
I lowered the menu and quickly pulled myself together. “Good. Because I want you to see the look on my face when I tell you that you need to stop ordering avocado toast everywhere we go.” I made a yuck face.
India laughed. “I like avocado toast. It’s delicious.”
“You’re paying for a piece of bread with green mush on top.”
“It’s my happy food.”
I smirked. Her happy food used to be pizza until she came to college. She’d changed in so many ways. But, in other ways, she was still my baby.
“So, Miss Avocado Toast, what do you feel like doing tonight? I was thinking we could eat popcorn and watch...”
“Oh, yeah!” India perked up, brows raising like she just remembered something.
Uh-oh.
“So, um... about my spring break plans, mom.”
I lowered my menu, stomach dropping. “What about them?”
“I meant to call and tell you earlier,” India started, biting her lip. “But you know how busy school gets, exams, lectures, and I just, um...”
“Spit it out, Indi.”
“I’m actually staying with some friends for spring break,” she blurted out.
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
“You’re what?” I asked, hoping I sounded calm, fearing I didn’t.
India winced. “Mom, don’t look at me like that. Please.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like I just told you I’m dropping out to become a full-time influencer.”
“That would be worse,” I muttered. “Barely.”
India sighed, placing her hands on the table like she was about to present a case to a jury.
“I’m staying here with my friends,” she explained. “We’re having a girls’ week. You know, movie nights, beach trips, exploring the city. We planned it all out.”
We? Not we as in India and I. We, as in her friends. My stomach tightened, and I hated the feeling. It was petty, selfish even, but I had planned on a little mother and daughter time this week.
I had booked the Airbnb. I had cleared my schedule. I had looked forward to spending time with my daughter. And now, she had her own plans. I should have expected this. This was what happened when your child grew up.
They started making decisions without you. You were no longer their world. Their world had expanded, leaving you on the outside looking in. I took a sip of my sweet tea, swallowing my disappointment.
“Girls’ week? Sounds fun,” I murmured around my straw, keeping my voice light, even if my heart was breaking. “I just wish you would have told me before I booked the Airbnb.”
India winced again. “I know. I suck. But I’ll still hang out with you while you’re here!”
“That’s not the same thing, Indi.”
She pouted. “Mom, please let me hang out with them. If I don’t, I’ll be the only one not going.”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “And your friends who will be going include Aubrey Cattaneo, I’m assuming?”
“Yeah, and some of the girls from our floor.”
“And Aubrey’s brother is okay with this?”
“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, her parents did send him to bring her home for spring break. But she convinced him to convince them to let her spend her spring break here with us. He told them she’d only be young once or something like that. Whatever he told them worked. She got permission to stay.”
“And where will you all be staying?”
“Our friend, Suzy, her family has a house here in Hattiesburg. They live in Texas, but they have an Airbnb house here. They said we could use it for the week as long as we don’t invite any boys over and clean up after ourselves. They have cameras outside the house, so they’ll know if we break any of their rules. You met Suzy when you came to pick me up for Christmas break, remember?”
I did remember. I met her parents also. They seemed kind. But the neighbors of serial killers always described the killers as kind and unsuspecting. Hindsight was always 20/20.
“India, I think you should,” I started, only to have my daughter interrupt me.
“Mommmmm,” she groaned. “It’s only for a week. And you’ll be in town too. So, if anything goes wrong, I’ll be able to call you.”
That was true.
“Plus,” India continued her pitch. “Last semester, you were worried that I wouldn’t be able to make friends. Now, I have. You should be happy. Oh, and I’ll be home for the summer. So, one week isn’t going to hurt, right?”
We’d been apart for more than one week. But I didn’t point that out. I didn’t want to be one of those helicopter moms. I wanted her to have friends, to have fun. And I loved her independence. But I also needed her to be safe. Tears swam in her gaze.
I sighed. “Fine. I’ve raised you to be a smart and responsible young lady. Now, it’s time for me to trust you to be that way even when I’m not around.”
India blinked at me. “Wait, are you saying I can stay?”
“What do you think?”
“Really, ma?”
“Yes, really.”
She grinned, eyes widening. “Wow, I was expecting, like... a whole speech about responsibility and safety and...”
“Oh, don’t get it twisted, young lady. That’s coming.”
She giggled. “Hit me with it. I’m ready.”
“I’ll expect hourly check-in texts.”
“Mommm,” she groaned. “Hourly? That’s too much.”
“Every eight hours, India. If you miss a check in, I’m calling you. If you don’t answer, I’m coming for you.”
“Why do you sound like someone out of a mafia movie?” India laughed.
“Don’t turn me into the Godfather,” I warned. “And I want the address where you’ll be staying, every number of everyone staying there, and a full itinerary.”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll have all that ready for you in a few hours.”
“And if I suspect something is wrong, I’m coming to get you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I can’t believe you’re letting me stay. You’re the best mom ever!”
I didn’t feel like the best mom ever. I took another sip of tea, ignoring the tightness in my chest. Was I making a bad decision by letting her stay with friends for a week? I held in my sigh. My baby was growing up.
However, she was still only seventeen and wouldn’t be eighteen for a few more weeks. She graduated high school early with honors and had never gotten in trouble. Not once. She’d been such an easy baby and teen that I’d rarely had to discipline her.
She’d worked hard and had gotten a full ride to college. But she was still just a baby to me. However, I wanted her to enjoy this period of her life. Soon, she’d be out in the real world, and her career would become her priority.
Most of us worked our entire lives, then retired at an age when we were too old to truly enjoy the fruits of our labor. That was life. It was good for her to enjoy these carefree days before adulthood reared its head.
I smiled as I watched her eat. My India had her own life now. And I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do with mine since she no longer needed me to hold her hand every step of the way.
I guess that was my problem to work through while I was on vacation. I stared down at my hands. India may not need anyone to hold her hand anymore, but I sure wished I had someone to hold mine.