KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys(20)

“You’ll have to wait and see.” I raise my eyebrows, teasing her. “Hustle, okay, so I can braid your hair.”

Sophia is a mini-me. She doesn’t take after her father, not a lick. She has my narrow frame, cornsilk-blonde hair, and bright green eyes. But she also has a hopefulness, a curiosity and wonder about her that I lost a long time ago.

“Okay, Mama.” She kisses me and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.

I told Landon yes to the job when I left his suite, and I came up with a solid lie for my mom on my way back to the condo. The money isn’t something I can walk away from, but I don’t know if every one else will understand.

Lying to Landon’s family isn’t the hard part for me ... lying to Mom and Sophia is a little trickier.

Also, I’ll have to be apart from my little girl. The job will be over a week, when I factor in travel times, and we’ve never been apart for longer than one day.

But this isn’t about the lie right now, this is about our forever.

When Sophia heads to the bathroom, I make my way into the kitchen where Mom is pouring us coffee.

“No, thanks,” I tell her, sitting on a barstool at the island. “I had enough this morning.”

“You’ve been up for awhile?” she asks, adding cream to her mug.

“You know me. I’m an early riser.” I reach into my purse and pull out a to-go bag. “I brought donuts from the hotel.”

“So you stayed at Emmy’s last night?” Mom asks.

I immediately feel heat on my cheeks. One thing about being blonde and fair-skinned is that my face constantly betrayed me.

“What aren’t you saying, Claire?” Mom asks, leaning on the island counter.

“Mom, don’t be awkward. Of course I was with Emmy and Tess.”

Mom raises her hands in defeat. “Okay, honey, I’ll mind my own business. I take it the night was ho-hum, then—no man asked you out and swept you off your feet?”

“I don’t believe in getting swept off my feet for one, and two, Sophia is down the hall. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“I don’t think you falling in love is the worst idea, Claire.”

“Love? Nobody is talking about love.” I scoff, remembering my exchange earlier with Landon, when he admitted he is a jaded pessimist. Knowing that I am too.

“Okay, so you didn’t fall in love. What did you girls do?”

Knowing Sophia would walk in the room any moment, but also wanting to tell Mom about the job, I talk a hyper-speed.

“Okay,” I tell her. “Dinner was fine. But what happened next is a little crazy. While we were at the hotel, I was offered a one-week trip to England.”

“What?” Mom asks, confused.

I fill her in on who Landon is—not the we-had-sex part, the friend of Ace’s part. “He needs to go home for work, his father owns The King’s Diamond—very fancy stuff—and he needs a plus one at the events. He asked if I wanted to go. Not like as his date,” I clarify, “but as his friend.” I wave my hand in the air, hoping it sounds plausible.

She tilts her head to the side, trying to absorb the information.

“It’s just for one week,” I explain. “But he leaves tomorrow.”

“And is your boss okay with you going?

“Ace is fine with it,” I say, embellishing. “What do you think?”

“I think it seems a little too good to be true. But you’ve wanted to go there your whole life, Claire.” Mom pats my hand, knowing that so much of my life didn’t turn out how I hoped. “Sophia will be fine with me. You deserve to have fun. To smile. I miss that.”

Just then Sophia walks in, dressed for the day, with a hairbrush and hair tie in hand. “Was I right?” she asks, a bright smile crossing her dimpled cheek. “Donuts?”

“You betcha.” I kiss the top of her head as I help her onto the stool beside me. She reaches in and finds her favorite pink frosting and sprinkled cake confection.

She starts eating, licking her fingers with each bite.

“So you’d be leaving tomorrow?” Mom asks discreetly, turning to get Sophia a glass of orange juice.

After she hands it to her, I pivot Sophia on the stool and start dividing her hair for a side-part fishtail braid. I’ve perfected the look, which is both adorable and functional. Sophia detests hair in her face when she plays at recess.

“Yeah, I’m not sure what time yet. Does leaving,” I point to Sophia’s head, “make me an awful person?”

“You’re not an awful person, Mama,” Sophia says with her mouth full of donut.

“No, your Mama is a perfect person. And she deserves to be happy. To smile. And she gets to go on a vacation with her friend.”