Her First Mistake by Carey Baldwin (books for 10th graders txt) 📕

“I can post these letters for you. And I can come by every day to help you. I’ve got plenty of time.” Mia hesitated but then decided to come out with it. Chances were the Coopers would hear it from Jane or someone else anyway. “I lost my job.”

Alma’s eyes widened. “Not because of that reporter, I hope.”

“Not entirely.”

“But that was part of it? You were protecting me from that awful woman and now… I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s no one’s fault.” Except maybe Paul Hudson’s but she wasn’t going to go into that. “The point is I’m free to help you, and you don’t need to worry about taking up my time.”

“But you seemed insulted the other day when we offered you money, and I can’t have you doing all this for nothing—especially now that you’ve lost your job. I’m perfectly capable of handling everything myself.” Alma waved her hand frenetically.

“I’d enjoy helping you,” Mia said. “I’m sorry if I seemed overly sensitive before. I just don’t feel right taking your money.”

Angelica nodded. “Well, then, that’s settled. No point going round and round. If Mia won’t take money—”

If she wasn’t careful, Angelica might spoil this for her. “I want to help,” Mia jumped in. “And I have an idea—we could compromise.”

Alma stopped fiddling with the letters.

“I’m afraid, in addition to losing my job, I’ve had something of a disagreement with my aunt.” Did she dare suggest? “What if I drive you to your appointments and help with whatever else you need in exchange for a place to stay—just until my new apartment opens up?”

“That’s not necessary,” Angelica said. “I can take more time off. I don’t think—”

“We have plenty of space,” Alma broke in. “And it would be so convenient to have Mia here. Angelica, you can get back to work. Only, let’s make it room and board.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I’m in.” Mia got to her feet. “You won’t believe this, but I actually have my suitcase in my car.”

A crash sounded overhead, and they all jumped.

Angelica sent Mia a pointed look. “I should warn you: Isaiah lives on the third floor—he’s got an entire bachelor pad up there and his bedroom is directly above the guest suite.”

Thirty-One

I hope you’ll be comfortable. That’s what Alma had said when she’d ushered Mia to her room. This particular guest room had been chosen for her because of its en suite bath and its proximity to Alma’s study. Baxter had his own separate office, which his wife warned Mia was strictly off-limits. As he was a wheeler-dealer, his confidential papers were not to be disturbed.

Comfortable.

That wasn’t the word Mia would use to describe her new quarters. Sumptuous, elegant, classy—any of those would’ve been a more apt description. The room itself was the size of her bedroom and living room combined. A series of black-and-white photographs of San Diego adorned light-gray walls with contrasting white trim. A lovely antique writing desk faced a bay window with built-in perch. An ocean-blue cushion, covering the perch, and a vase of red roses provided the perfect pop of color.

As for the bedding, one sank into it rather than sat upon it. The pillows, she thought, were goose down, as was a white duvet, so pristine it might’ve never been used. A smile played across her lips as she let herself pretend, just for a moment, this room belonged to her; that she, not Celeste, had grown up in such luxury—with Alma as her doting mother.

Sweeping her hand over the softer-than-satin sheets she closed her eyes, and then, suddenly, she recalled the scratchy woolen blanket that covered the worn mattress in the bed she’d shared with her real mother as a girl.

She pulled in a shuddering breath.

A knock sounded at the door and her eyelids fluttered open.

“Mia, are you up? May I come in?”

At the sound of Baxter’s voice, she hurried to her feet, and, in front of a framed mirror, quickly smoothed her hair and wiped smeared mascara from beneath her eyes.

She opened the door. “I’m up. Come in, please.”

Baxter gave her a warm smile and entered, then settled himself on the perch in front of the bay window, looking even more handsome with a day’s stubble on his jaw.

She took a seat at the desk facing him.

“I trust you’re comfortable,” he said. “Is there anything you’re lacking? Anything you need?”

“Oh, no. This is so lovely. So much more than I…” She was about to say deserve, but stopped herself. Everyone deserves good things.

“Excellent.” He eyed her small suitcase. “But surely this isn’t everything. I’ll send Isaiah with you if you want to bring over more from your aunt’s house. You must have boxes and furniture. We have a storage shed for anything that won’t fit in your room.”

A memory of a cold dark space, filled with tattered boxes, suddenly surfaced.

“Mia?”

“I don’t have any furniture.” Aunt Misty would disagree. She’d insist Mia keep whatever she needed from the house, but Mia wanted her own things. She wanted a fresh start. “There’s a photograph my grandfather gave me. I could put it on the desk, but I won’t need Isaiah’s help for that.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m volunteering him. Alma said you’re not speaking to your aunt, so I thought having Isaiah along might ease the tension between the two of you.”

“We’re speaking.” No matter what Aunt Misty had or hadn’t done, Mia would never freeze out the only family she had left. Of course there was a great aunt around somewhere, and second cousins, but no one who was part of her life. And even if Mia’s world had been filled with relatives, Aunt Misty was the one who’d taken her in, loved her, changed her world into someplace safe.

“Excellent. I hate the idea of being on the outs with family—having gone through it myself.” He paused and wrinkled his nose, and then he frowned.