was just beginning to brighten the sky. If she was going to have herself and Cady ready for a ten-o’clock departure, she needed to take full advantage of the golden hour before her girlie started moving.
She threw laundry into the dryer, fired up her laptop and tossed jars and pouches of baby food into a bag, all while waiting for the coffee to brew. As soon as it was ready she filled her mug and carried it to the porch for what was usually the best fifteen minutes of her morning.
Too bad she had to spend it calling her mother today.
Sylvie was in London this week, meaning it was already late morning for her, meaning there was a decent chance she would be awake. No guarantee, but the odds were high. Darcy couldn’t count how many times in the past year she had given thanks that her own sleep cycle had come from her father instead of her mother.
“Darcy?”
Yep. Mom might technically be awake, but alert and functional were still hours away. If luck was really on Darcy’s side, she could get through this conversation before Sylvie woke up enough to become annoyed.
“’Morning, Mom. How’re you and the queen this fine day?”
“Don’t be an ass, Darcy. You know very well she’s touring Japan this month. Why on earth are you calling at such a teeth-numbing hour?”
“A couple of things. The copy edits for the new book came in yesterday. I’ll have those turned around within the week, and then I’ll send them to you for final approval. If you need me over the next few days, I might be a bit slow in getting back to you because Cady and I are going to Comeback Cove. And I finalized your Sydney itinerary and will send that to you in a few minutes.”
“That all sounds— Wait. You’re going where?”
So much for that great strategy.
“Comeback Cove.”
“For the love of God, why?”
Because my friend needs me. Because I need some breathing room between me and the Amazing Reappearing Biological Daddy. Because the family I idolized when I was a kid has been broken, and I want to help fix it.
Of all the reasons for this trip, there was only one Darcy would even think of sharing with her mother. “Ian was driving up anyway, and Nonny hasn’t seen Cady since right after she was born, so it seemed like good timing.”
“Assuming there’s ever a good time to be bored silly.”
Darcy often wondered what on earth her parents had seen in each other. Sylvie was a mercurial, nightlife-loving actress, while Paul had been a quiet, small-town homebody. Sylvie was all about the next excitement. Paul had been all about the moment. Sylvie loved Darcy in a bemused sort of way, as if she were never quite sure where this child had come from and what she was supposed to do with her. Paul had been a hands-on, deeply invested father.
But Paul was dead. Sylvie was not only alive, but provided a major chunk of Darcy’s hard-earned income. So on many levels it behooved Darcy to keep her mother placated.
“You know how it goes. Sometimes you have to make these sacrifices for the sake of family.”
“I suppose. It was so much easier when your father was alive and I could let him deal with those issues.”
Darcy had been called many things in her life, but she was pretty sure she had never before been an issue .
“Fine, then. Go do what you must. When will you be— Oh. Hold on a second.”
There came the rustling sort of crackle that made Darcy suspect the phone had been relegated to the side of the bed, followed by a lazy “Good morning, Matteo,” and something that sounded way too much like a long and welcoming kiss. Oh, goody. There was nothing as delightful as trying to conduct a conversation with Sylvie when her latest boy toy was in the room. All it took was one studly thing to make an appearance and Sylvie Drummond—sometimes known as the most driven woman on two continents—turned into a rather embarrassing pile of goo.
“Mom? Hello?”
“Oh. Darcy.” The throaty quality to Sylvie’s voice made
She threw laundry into the dryer, fired up her laptop and tossed jars and pouches of baby food into a bag, all while waiting for the coffee to brew. As soon as it was ready she filled her mug and carried it to the porch for what was usually the best fifteen minutes of her morning.
Too bad she had to spend it calling her mother today.
Sylvie was in London this week, meaning it was already late morning for her, meaning there was a decent chance she would be awake. No guarantee, but the odds were high. Darcy couldn’t count how many times in the past year she had given thanks that her own sleep cycle had come from her father instead of her mother.
“Darcy?”
Yep. Mom might technically be awake, but alert and functional were still hours away. If luck was really on Darcy’s side, she could get through this conversation before Sylvie woke up enough to become annoyed.
“’Morning, Mom. How’re you and the queen this fine day?”
“Don’t be an ass, Darcy. You know very well she’s touring Japan this month. Why on earth are you calling at such a teeth-numbing hour?”
“A couple of things. The copy edits for the new book came in yesterday. I’ll have those turned around within the week, and then I’ll send them to you for final approval. If you need me over the next few days, I might be a bit slow in getting back to you because Cady and I are going to Comeback Cove. And I finalized your Sydney itinerary and will send that to you in a few minutes.”
“That all sounds— Wait. You’re going where?”
So much for that great strategy.
“Comeback Cove.”
“For the love of God, why?”
Because my friend needs me. Because I need some breathing room between me and the Amazing Reappearing Biological Daddy. Because the family I idolized when I was a kid has been broken, and I want to help fix it.
Of all the reasons for this trip, there was only one Darcy would even think of sharing with her mother. “Ian was driving up anyway, and Nonny hasn’t seen Cady since right after she was born, so it seemed like good timing.”
“Assuming there’s ever a good time to be bored silly.”
Darcy often wondered what on earth her parents had seen in each other. Sylvie was a mercurial, nightlife-loving actress, while Paul had been a quiet, small-town homebody. Sylvie was all about the next excitement. Paul had been all about the moment. Sylvie loved Darcy in a bemused sort of way, as if she were never quite sure where this child had come from and what she was supposed to do with her. Paul had been a hands-on, deeply invested father.
But Paul was dead. Sylvie was not only alive, but provided a major chunk of Darcy’s hard-earned income. So on many levels it behooved Darcy to keep her mother placated.
“You know how it goes. Sometimes you have to make these sacrifices for the sake of family.”
“I suppose. It was so much easier when your father was alive and I could let him deal with those issues.”
Darcy had been called many things in her life, but she was pretty sure she had never before been an issue .
“Fine, then. Go do what you must. When will you be— Oh. Hold on a second.”
There came the rustling sort of crackle that made Darcy suspect the phone had been relegated to the side of the bed, followed by a lazy “Good morning, Matteo,” and something that sounded way too much like a long and welcoming kiss. Oh, goody. There was nothing as delightful as trying to conduct a conversation with Sylvie when her latest boy toy was in the room. All it took was one studly thing to make an appearance and Sylvie Drummond—sometimes known as the most driven woman on two continents—turned into a rather embarrassing pile of goo.
“Mom? Hello?”
“Oh. Darcy.” The throaty quality to Sylvie’s voice made
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