Her Sexiest Mistake Read online

  No missing the resentment, the feeling that no one wanted her, not even family.

  Ah, hell.

  “I’m outta here,” Hope said and turned to the door.

  Mia reached out and wrapped her fingers around the kid’s arm. God, she was thin, so very thin. And still and chilled, despite the warm air driving the wet storm. “Wait, Hope. Sugar, listen—”

  “Look, the truth is, you were always so much smarter than us, we never knew what to do with you, Apple.”

  “Mia.”

  Sugar laughed good and hard over that, in her craggy voice that suggested she’d been smoking her entire life. “Fancy name or not, you’re just the person that kid needs to motivate her back into school.”

  “She left school?”

  Next to her, Hope closed her eyes.

  “Got herself kicked out,” Sugar said. “And arrested. She still owes me two grand for that whole mess.”

  Clearly able to hear Sugar, Hope’s mouth went grim and she tried to tug free, but Mia held on. “You need to come and get her now,” Mia said into the phone.

  “Ship her back the way she came.”

  Mia shook her head. “No. I won’t do that. It’s a miracle she made it here in one piece.”

  “One week,” Sugar said. “Surely you can handle it for a week.”

  “Her,” Mia said softly, mirroring Kevin’s words, which was how she knew she was screwed, that she was going to do this. “It’s a her—” But she was talking to a dial tone. “Damn it.”

  “She had a date,” Hope said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Just a guess.”

  Probably, but the way Hope said it, as if she understood and accepted how much more important a date would be than her…Mia wanted to strangle Sugar. Instead she set down the phone and drew a deep breath. “All right. Let’s get settled until we figure out what we’re going to do.”

  “Hey, if you’re thinking of kicking me out, just tell me now and I’ll be gone.”

  “Really? Where?”

  Hope jerked her shoulder again. She was good at that. “I’ve got plenty of places to go.”

  In spite of herself, Mia was fascinated by the bravado. She’d once been in Hope’s shoes, or close enough, but she’d had strong grades behind her not to mention no police record—and had landed a scholarship to college. “Name one.”

  “Hollywood is only a few hills over. I saw it on the map.”

  “No one’s going to Hollywood tonight. I’ll show you where you can sleep, and tomorrow morning we’ll—”

  “What, send me back then?”

  “You keep saying that, and I’ll think you’re eager to get home.” Mia smiled grimly when Hope scowled. “So sleep first. You think you can manage to do that without getting into trouble?”

  “Funny.”

  “You hungry?”

  “Always.” They went into the kitchen, where Hope looked distinctly unimpressed with Mia’s sparsely filled refrigerator and cabinets. Mia didn’t eat here often, and when she did, it was usually something she’d picked up on the way home. Hope wrinkled her nose at the leftover Thai. “You need to go food shopping,” she said.

  Mia was brought back to her childhood, when they might have always struggled to get the rent paid but there’d always been plenty of fat and carbs in the fridge. “We eat differently here in California.”

  “Looks like you don’t eat at all.”

  They made do with low-fat cheese and stone-wheat crackers; then Mia took Hope to one of the two spare bedrooms, which was decorated with a dresser, nightstand, and four-poster bed she’d gotten in San Francisco, and pale silk linens from Brunschwig & Fils. The two Pacific Ocean prints on the walls added serenity and beauty to the space.

  Hope stood in the doorway looking staggered. “Wow. Sugar likes white, too.”

  Mia resisted telling her the difference between her linens and Sugar’s linens was at least a thousand thread count. “That door leads to your bathroom.”

  “My own?” the girl asked in hushed awe.

  Something deep in Mia’s belly tightened. “Yes. Your own.”

  “This room is as huge as our whole trailer.”

  Mia remembered with painful clarity the life Hope had run from, the desperation, the despair, the need to get the hell out no matter that there was nowhere to go. “Look, about the fact that we’ve never talked before…”

  Hope looked at her.

  “I’m sorry. Just because Sugar and I aren’t close is no excuse. I should have called you. Checked in.”

  Hope lifted a shoulder. No biggie. “How did you do it?” The kid walked the length of the room, reverently touching the polished dresser, the tray on top of it that held five white candles. “How did you get all of this?”

  “Well, I didn’t get myself arrested, for one. And I stayed in school, for another.” Mia looked over the girl with her ragged black pants, black tank top, large black overshirt, black boots, and the studded belt and bracelet that looked dangerous to her health. “And I was far too busy planning my escape to be worried about Goth getup.”

  Hope fingered her pierced brow, her expression closed, and Mia sighed. “Look, just get some sleep, okay?” When she got no response, Mia moved to the door.

  “Were you like me?” Hope whispered. “At all?”

  She turned back and searched the girl’s face. The too-black hair, lank from bad products. The black lipstick that made her look so pasty. The brow piercing. Beneath the veneer stood a painfully thin young girl, lost and achingly alone. Mia could read the fear as if it was her own, the knowledge that life wouldn’t just be accepted, that there was more and she wanted a piece of it.

  Were they alike at all? “I don’t know,” Mia answered honestly. “But it looks like we’re going to find out.”

  By the time Kevin entered his house again, he was drenched to the skin and a jackhammer had begun to go off at the base of his skull. A helluva day. His first summer science class had been like teaching Greek to preschoolers. Nor had he found his pot smoker, but he’d caught hell from Joe.

  Mrs. Stacy had tattled on him to the principal.

  Joe had taken great pleasure in reading him the riot act, not for wasting electricity or having kids smoke weed in his classroom, but for Kevin taking his parking spot.

  Then had come far more troublesome news. The teen center, housed next to the high school in a building loaned to the rec center, had gone up for sale.

  Unfortunately for Kevin, the owner happened to be Beth Moore, his ex, and she hadn’t been happy with him in years. She didn’t care that the town couldn’t buy the building and that her selling would probably mean closing the teen center, which in turn would leave lots of kids with no supervised, safe place to hang out.

  And speaking of safety, or lack of, he’d had three kids sneak off into the woods this afternoon. Two boys and a girl who’d come from a broken home and had no self-esteem, which made her easy prey. Thankfully, Kevin had found them before they’d talked the girl out of her clothes, but they’d all been drinking.

  Damn it. Could no one make a good decision?

  Then he’d come home and found yet another teen, dressed in wannabe Goth, poking in his drawers. Mia’s niece. And then there’d been Mia herself, eyes cool, body hot…

  His entire world had turned into one big Peyton Place.

  Mike came into the living room, dressed for clubbing in all black, hair artfully styled to look like he’d just gotten out of bed, eyes sparkling with trouble. And he’d find it, too, then be worthless for the job interview he’d set up through Monster.com for tomorrow. This was usually the portion of the evening where Kevin gave the whole be-good spiel—don’t go slutting around; you need to find a woman to love you, not fuck you; etc. etc.—but, damn, he was fresh out of pep talk tonight.

  Mike stopped in the doorway as they passed each other, and looked at Kevin questioningly. What’s your problem?

  I don’t have one. Nope, he had about fifty. He tri