“I’m her mother!” Maggie seemed incensed. As usual, her emotions went from cold to hot in less time than it took to say the alphabet. Maggie loved drama, and at the moment, Kyra had no use for it.
“Maggie, can I talk to you in the bedroom please?” Kyra turned and walked coolly into the master suite, knowing her sister would follow. Kyra preferred not to say what she had to in front of Ava. She didn’t want to upset her niece, but Maggie needed a firm talking to.
“Sit down.” Kyra pointed Maggie to the oversized chair beside the desk and Maggie did as she was told. As usual, Kyra was more like the parent than the sister. Maggie crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, and Kyra lit into her.
“When are you going to grow up?” she asked, and Maggie rolled her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about your little extended jaunt to Spain. While you were flitting around in bad weather, I had to bring Ava with me on a work trip.” She put air quotes around her weather comment to home in on the fact that she didn’t believe Maggie’s bullshit story.
“Kyra, I’m sorry. I was genuinely stranded. The trains were—”
“The weather wouldn’t have been an issue if you hadn’t decided to put yourself in a different country from your daughter. You could have stayed here with her—or gone to Barcelona and taken her with you. But you made the choice not to. I don’t want to hear your excuses, Maggie.” Kyra placed a hand up to signal that she’d had enough of her sister’s games. “You need to step up and learn some responsibility.”
Maggie’s eyes caught fire at Kyra’s words. “You think I don’t know about responsibility?” She stood from her chair and took a step toward Kyra. “I’ve been working my ass off to try to make a better life for us. I know I’ve made mistakes that got me where I am now, but I’m trying to change.”
Kyra looked away from her sister’s eyes. She didn’t want to be sympathetic. She wanted to be hard on Maggie for once, but it was difficult. She loved her sister and hated seeing her struggle.
“It’s not easy to get where you want to be in life when you’re always trying to play catch up.” Maggie shook her head. “All you ever see is my past mistakes. Every time you look at me, you judge me for the bad decisions I made in the past. Why can’t you see the person I’m trying to become?”
Kyra shook her head. “Right now, we’re talking about decisions you made this week. I’m not holding the past against you—I’m asking you to take a hard look at your present.”
“I told you I was stranded.”
“Save it, Maggie,” Kyra said, her words coming out colder than she’d intended. “I’m done with your words. If you’re so responsible, then show it.”
Maggie sighed. She turned away from Kyra and walked back into the sitting room. Kyra heard her plop down next to Ava.
“Hey, baby, you want to go do a little sightseeing with me?”
“Umm, it might be hard to walk a lot with my crutches,” Ava said innocently.
“Oh, you’re right,” Maggie said. “How about we just go find a place to get some ice cream then?”
“Okay!”
Kyra stayed in her bedroom while Maggie and Ava got themselves ready to go out. When she heard the hotel door click shut, a twinge of guilt passed through her. She’d been pretty tough on Maggie.
But maybe Maggie needed tough love. Somebody had to tell her straight. If Kyra had done it years ago, then maybe they wouldn’t have ended up in this situation in the first place.
Kyra went to the mini fridge and dug out a bottle of sparkling water. She poured herself a glass and sat down at the corner desk where her laptop was set up. She’d been tired before, but now her mind was buzzing after arguing with Maggie. Might as well get some work done.
She opened up a new document and began writing a summary on the suitability of the estate for the women’s shelter. In summary, the property was highly suitable, and the repairs made it immediately inhabitable—but it would still require some upgrades for the long term. The roof, although safe, would need to be replaced within the next few years. The windows were old and also needed to be updated. A French drain would have to be installed in the basement of the house.
There was still much to do. The cost would be substantial.
Kyra attached the document to an email and sent it off to the board, then opened up a new tab and began cruising around online, mindlessly, checking social media platforms to catch up with what was going on back stateside.
In her feed, she suddenly saw a link with a picture of her own face—plus a picture of her and Ava at the estate.
“What the hell?”
She clicked on the picture and was redirected to an online gossip column called TELL. Even though she couldn’t stop herself from reading, she was disgusted by every word. The title alone made her want to throw up.
Playing Both Sides of The Field?
Playboy Prince, Marcus Ashton, is at it again. As if his sultry affair with Marta Quigley of the Lancaster Quigleys wasn’t enough, Ashton is trying his hand at an American game. Miss Kyra Rogers, from Atlanta, Georgia, is the prince’s newest novelty. The two are working together on a government project and were caught sharing a hot kiss at an old estate home in Havershire. It’s possible that Miss Rogers has a young daughter, who is also pictured. Ashton looks quite cozy with both Rogers and the little girl. But for those of you wondering if he’s ready to settle down and play daddy, his most recent lover, Marta Quigley, told TELL reporters that Ashton is anything but serious.
“Prince Marcus and I shared the most amazing nights together—but I soon learned he wasn’t reliable. He promised to rescue me from the arranged marriage I’m being forced into, but he never came.”
Marta is clearly heartbroken, but it looked as if Marcus has moved on. What will come of the American? Will Prince Marcus tire of her and toss her on the shelf with his other used-up baubles?
Only time will TELL.
Kyra’s stomach roiled as she closed her laptop. Logically she knew that TELL was nothing but a gossip rag, but the story had played to her emotions and left her doubting. Had Marcus really promised to go to Lancaster for this Marta girl? How many baubles were on his shelf?
Jesus. What had she gotten herself into? She placed a hand on her abdomen, thinking of the child she was carrying and the type of father he or she would have.
Just then her phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Marcus.
She hit ignore. She just wasn’t ready to talk with him right now.
Marcus had seemed so genuine, so sincere about stepping up to the plate and being responsible for their child. He’d seemed to enjoy spending time with Ava. And as for her, there was no question about the physical and emotional connection between the two of them.
But had he been just as sincere with Marta Quigley?
Was Kyra being hoodwinked?
Her phone buzzed again, and once more she hit ignore.
He would have to wait.
But he didn’t. Fifteen minutes later, while Kyra was still sitting at her desk mulling over her doubts of Marcus, there was a loud rap on her hotel door. She looked through the peephole, and her heart skipped a beat. At once, she was both angry at him because of the sordid news article and happy to see him standing at her door, looking anxious.