she didn’t dress the same way or anything. She looked like a mother.
Not today. Viola Summerhill Lloyd had undergone a transformation. Her mum looked sexy . She wore a red dress that was shorter on one side, with ankle boots that had high heels like Aunt Gigi would wear. Her white leather jacket was unzipped enough to show her breasts. Her mother’s hair looked bright and shiny like a gold coin, tousled down to her shoulders.
Chloe stared. Where was her old mother, who wore baggy gray clothes and scraggly ponytails? It made her uncomfortable, as though her mother had been replaced by an alien.
What did it mean? And why was her mum changing? She swallowed her worry and focused on the obvious. Pointing at the creature lying at her mother’s feet, she asked, “What is that?”
“Your new friend,” Viola said brightly.
Chloe looked at the dog as it looked at her. It didn’t look sure about their new friendship either.
“You always wanted a dog, and I thought it’d be a good time to get you one, because you’ve been alone so much.”
She heard the subtext: Her mother felt guilty because both she and Charles hadn’t been available lately.
But that wasn’t Chloe’s fault. She crossed her arms. “I never wanted a dog.”
“Yes, you did.” The excitement in her mother’s face withered a little. “Remember? You asked for one a couple years ago.”
She shook her head, but then she suddenly realized what her mum was talking about. It was after she’d read Game of Thrones for the first time. “I wanted a direwolf .”
Viola frowned at the animal at her feet. “He’s pretty close, isn’t he?”
Chloe glanced at the dog, who was licking himself inappropriately.
Rowdy nudged her, giving her a cautioning look.
She got it: She had to tread carefully. “Um. He’s … cute.”
“Isn’t he?” Viola perked up again, looking so relieved that Chloe felt guilty for not being more appreciative. Her mum smiled at the dog. “And since I’m going to be going to Paris, I thought it’d be nice if you had company.”
“Wait. Paris?” Chloe looked at Rowdy, who just shrugged. “Why are you going to Paris?”
Viola took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about that. I’ve decided to open an art gallery.”
“In Paris?” Chloe gaped at her mother. “You aren’t leaving me here to live with Charles, are you?”
“Of course not.” Her mum took her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’d never leave you, Chloe. I’m opening the gallery here in London. I’m just going to Paris to talk to an artist I’ve found.”
This wasn’t like her mother at all. Her mother never wore makeup, she didn’t wear clothes that made her look sexy, and she definitely didn’t just up and decide to go to Paris. “When did you decide to go?”
“Today.”
Chloe wondered what the bright tone was covering up. “When are you going?”
“Tomorrow, if I can.”
She looked at Rowdy, who held his hands up like he had no clue what was happening either.
“I’m really excited about the gallery,” her mother said, gushing. “I already leased a space, and I’m going to have a grand opening in six weeks. I’ll show it to you when I get back, if you’d like.”
Did she have a choice? She nodded, kind of stunned by the past few minutes.
“You’ll stay with your father,” Viola continued. “I’ll call and arrange it.”
She groaned. “I’m not a child any longer. I can stay alone. And now I have this”—she looked at the beast, searching for the right word—“dog.”
“I’d feel better if you were with Charles,” Viola said.
“I’ll check on you, kid.” Rowdy winked at her. “You’ll be good.”
She wasn’t worried about being good. She just wanted to stay in her own bed and away from Charles and Louise. “Is this nonnegotiable?”
Her mother frowned. “I suppose so. Is that all right?”
“I don’t seem to have much of a choice, do I?” She looked at the dog. “What’s its
Not today. Viola Summerhill Lloyd had undergone a transformation. Her mum looked sexy . She wore a red dress that was shorter on one side, with ankle boots that had high heels like Aunt Gigi would wear. Her white leather jacket was unzipped enough to show her breasts. Her mother’s hair looked bright and shiny like a gold coin, tousled down to her shoulders.
Chloe stared. Where was her old mother, who wore baggy gray clothes and scraggly ponytails? It made her uncomfortable, as though her mother had been replaced by an alien.
What did it mean? And why was her mum changing? She swallowed her worry and focused on the obvious. Pointing at the creature lying at her mother’s feet, she asked, “What is that?”
“Your new friend,” Viola said brightly.
Chloe looked at the dog as it looked at her. It didn’t look sure about their new friendship either.
“You always wanted a dog, and I thought it’d be a good time to get you one, because you’ve been alone so much.”
She heard the subtext: Her mother felt guilty because both she and Charles hadn’t been available lately.
But that wasn’t Chloe’s fault. She crossed her arms. “I never wanted a dog.”
“Yes, you did.” The excitement in her mother’s face withered a little. “Remember? You asked for one a couple years ago.”
She shook her head, but then she suddenly realized what her mum was talking about. It was after she’d read Game of Thrones for the first time. “I wanted a direwolf .”
Viola frowned at the animal at her feet. “He’s pretty close, isn’t he?”
Chloe glanced at the dog, who was licking himself inappropriately.
Rowdy nudged her, giving her a cautioning look.
She got it: She had to tread carefully. “Um. He’s … cute.”
“Isn’t he?” Viola perked up again, looking so relieved that Chloe felt guilty for not being more appreciative. Her mum smiled at the dog. “And since I’m going to be going to Paris, I thought it’d be nice if you had company.”
“Wait. Paris?” Chloe looked at Rowdy, who just shrugged. “Why are you going to Paris?”
Viola took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about that. I’ve decided to open an art gallery.”
“In Paris?” Chloe gaped at her mother. “You aren’t leaving me here to live with Charles, are you?”
“Of course not.” Her mum took her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’d never leave you, Chloe. I’m opening the gallery here in London. I’m just going to Paris to talk to an artist I’ve found.”
This wasn’t like her mother at all. Her mother never wore makeup, she didn’t wear clothes that made her look sexy, and she definitely didn’t just up and decide to go to Paris. “When did you decide to go?”
“Today.”
Chloe wondered what the bright tone was covering up. “When are you going?”
“Tomorrow, if I can.”
She looked at Rowdy, who held his hands up like he had no clue what was happening either.
“I’m really excited about the gallery,” her mother said, gushing. “I already leased a space, and I’m going to have a grand opening in six weeks. I’ll show it to you when I get back, if you’d like.”
Did she have a choice? She nodded, kind of stunned by the past few minutes.
“You’ll stay with your father,” Viola continued. “I’ll call and arrange it.”
She groaned. “I’m not a child any longer. I can stay alone. And now I have this”—she looked at the beast, searching for the right word—“dog.”
“I’d feel better if you were with Charles,” Viola said.
“I’ll check on you, kid.” Rowdy winked at her. “You’ll be good.”
She wasn’t worried about being good. She just wanted to stay in her own bed and away from Charles and Louise. “Is this nonnegotiable?”
Her mother frowned. “I suppose so. Is that all right?”
“I don’t seem to have much of a choice, do I?” She looked at the dog. “What’s its
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