Page 17 of Hot in Witch City
I nodded, searching the general area. “I’m going to walk around,” I said, letting them enjoy themselves.
As I made my way through the crowd and back toward the bar, a striking woman wearing a long black trench coat strode my way. She was even taller than me and sashayed over with a sultry walk and Mona Lisa smile that captured the attention of everyone she passed. Who was this woman and why was her gaze fixed on me? She looked familiar somehow, but I would have remembered her had we met.
As she approached, she smiled. “You must be Gianna.”
I furrowed my brows. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” She inclined her head. “I’m here to see you.”
Something about this woman was disconcerting despite the smile. I tried to get a better read on her. She was maybe a decade or two older than me but had an ageless way about her. “Do I know you?”
She nodded. “We met a long, long time ago. You wouldn’t remember.”
Although I was intrigued, this was getting a bit irksome. “Okay, so who are you?”
She outstretched her arms to her sides. “I’m your mother.”
My heart shot up to the rafters. My—mother? Why would she come here, now—if she was even who she said she was?
“How—what…” I stammered. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
She pushed her hair over her shoulders and then lowered her arms. “The physical resemblance isn’t enough?” She grinned. “You look just like me.”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish. My mother just walked into my life for the first time in twenty-five years. The same woman who’d abandoned me when I was an infant.
Confusing emotions swirled in me like in a whirlpool. Who the hell was she to just barge in after all this time?
My hands trembled. “Where have you been my entire life?”
She pouted. “Oh, Gianna. I can understand that you’d be upset, but our ways aren’t the ways of humans.”
“Oh, really?” I summoned up sarcasm while my resentment simmered into a low, boiling rage. “Do tell.”
She gestured with a dismissive wave. “We don’t live that way with a house, two kids, two cars, and all that nonsense.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I drawled with contempt and crossed my arms. “Because you weren’t around to tell me.”
She lowered her chin. “I’m here now. I’d like to get to know you.”
I stared at her, wary of this woman who was blood and yet a stranger. Then again, she was my mother, and she had the answer to the giant question that haunted me my entire life—why?
“I’ll think about it.”
“I know this is a surprise. How about I call you in a couple of days after it settles in?”
As she walked away, heads turned. My gaze was glued to her back.
My hands shook. I needed a drink. Pronto. Although there was a line of people waiting, one of my bartenders, Kylie, poured me a shot of vodka. As soon as I swallowed and put the shot glass on the bar, Sebastian stepped beside me.
“Gianna, are you okay? You’re shaking.”
“No.” I shook my head and stared into his eyes. So warm and full of concern.
“What’s wrong?” His voice was gentle. “How can I help you?”
What I needed right now was a distraction. I couldn’t let all my simmering resentment at my mother’s abandonment and her surprise arrival rise and swallow me.
My go to was with sensual diversion.
