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The group chuckled.
Someone else stood and cheered, “Just kiss her already!”
I knew this moment was coming. That’s why I kissed her the night before. Partially.
Partially because she looked so beautiful standing across from me on the porch and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Partially because she’d gotten along so well with my mom, and I’d always dreamed of being with someone who would just become part of the family. Partially because I couldn’t think of a reason not to kiss her.
She looked up at me, her brown eyes wide and shining. This close, I could see the scar on the side of her jaw. The dimple on her left cheek. The sweep of her hair across her forehead.
Her full lips that so easily stretched into smiles that lit a room better than any bulb.
I slid my hand over her cheek, weaving my fingers through her hair, and drew her closer.
She responded so easily to me, her head tilting back to meet my height, her lips parting slightly.
I took a last breath, taking in the mix of her shampoo and whatever perfume she wore that smelled like a field of wildflowers, and pressed my lips to hers.
My eyes closed, but I didn’t need to do that because the whole room fell away the second her body was pressed to mine. Just like the night before, my pulse quickened, my brain slowed. Instinct took over as I slid my tongue against her lips, desperate to taste her sweet mouth, to feel the slide of her tongue against mine.
This might have been fake for Mara, but the way my body responded to hers... it was real.
All too soon, Mara pulled back, resting her forehead against mine for a moment before stepping back completely. My body felt cool without hers, empty. But I shoved that feeling down, realizing just how publicly I’d let myself get carried away.
The reporters were cheering and Charlotte was stepping up to the podium, speaking into the microphones.
“That is the end of our time! Thank you, everyone, for coming,” she said. “Please feel free to grab a flash drive from the table by the door with our media kit. Have a great day!”
The reporters began shuffling out of the room, and I couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped my chest.
My mom was really going to be able to do her dialysis at home. Mara would get the movie deal back on track.
Charlotte turned to us and said, “Hey, will you two head to my office? I’ll be there when we get everyone out.”
“Sure thing,” Mara said. She easily slipped her hand through mine and began leading me off the stage.
As we walked toward the door, a few reporters tried asking her questions, but she simply smiled and said to speak with Charlotte. She had so much poise and grace, it was almost impossible to believe that weathered old man calling himself her father had such a strong effect on her.
We reached the office with Charlotte’s nameplate on the door and let ourselves in. Mara locked the door, saying, “Just in case.”
“Do you think he actually left?” I asked. We both knew who I was talking about.
She shook her head. “Dad doesn’t give up that easily. And he definitely doesn’t like being made a fool.”
Just the word “dad” coming out of her mouth seemed so wrong. When I thought of “dad,” I pictured my own father, getting up at six thirty in the morning to feed the dog and make coffee for Mom. He always added cream and sugar, then brought it to her in bed so she could wake up just right.
I thought of Dad wearing his denim jeans and work shirt with his nametag stitched into the material. I thought of the special soap Mom kept by the sink so he could wash the oil off his hands when he walked through the door.
The person making Mara scared enough to lock the door, even in my presence, didn’t deserve that word.
“What do you think he wanted?” I asked.
“Money, probably.” She looked down at her lap, twisting her lips to the side. “We’ll probably need to have security walk us to my truck.” She let out a sigh. “And I need to get a security system installed at my house, just in case.”
My eyes widened. “Do you think he’d come to your house?”
“It’s not like it would be that hard. I bought it and he knows my legal name now.”
“Did you have it changed?” I asked.