Page 27 of Always: A Legacy Novel

Catherine shrugged.

Nonchalant seemed the way to go.

There was no reason to say she couldn’t speak.

Catrina Marcello dominated rooms when she walked into one.

Catherine thought—if anything—that was what intimidated people the most about her mother. Then, people got a good look at Catrina. They saw her beautiful clothes, perfectly done makeup and dark red hair, her manicured nails sharpened into points at every perfect tip, and were caught off guard by her beauty. Even in her forties, her mother turned heads when all she was doing was walking down the street.

But to Catherine?

Catrina was just her mom.

They butted heads a lot. Her father liked to say that’s because they were too much alike for their own good. Catherine didn’t know how true that was.

She knew she looked a lot like her mother, much more than she took after her father. Her sharp cheekbones, full lips with a dainty cupid’s bow, olive complexion, and even her smile … it all came from her mother. Her green eyes and dark hair came from her father.

Catherine sometimes thought it would have been nice if her mother could have passed on more than just her looks to her daughter. Like her confidence and natural aura of superiority. As though the world was hers, and she owed it fucking nothing.

Maybe those were learned traits, though.

Catherine hadn’t quite learned them, yet.

Catrina bent over her daughter at the kitchen table, surveying the textbooks Catherine had laid out. “How was school?”

“Boring.”

Her mother laughed a tinkling sound. “Come on, now, dolcezza. Make an effort, and you might like it there.”

“It’s not so bad, really.”

Now, Catherine thought silently.

“Did you make friends?”

Catherine flipped to the next page in her book. “Sort of.”

“Johnathan said he went back to pick you up a bit later because you were hanging out with some friends.”

At that same time, Catherine’s brother strolled through the kitchen, following behind their father and muttering on about something or other. She caught Michel’s eye as he passed her by, but he didn’t speak up or say a word about who she had gone with that day.

“I made friends,” Catherine admitted.

Sort of.

Catrina smiled, pleased, and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “See, I told you.”

“Yeah, I know, Ma.”

“Did Michel order you some pizza?”

“When I got home,” she said.

Catrina patted Catherine’s cheek in her motherly way, saying, “Tomorrow, I’ll make your favorites. It’s been a busy week. You know your father’s trial is coming up, and all.”

Yeah, it wasn’t like Catherine could forget the night almost a year earlier when FBI agents raided their home in the middle of the night. Her father was facing weapons charges, amongst other things. The trial was a few weeks away, as far as she understood.

“I don’t want you worrying about it,” Catrina said, bringing Catherine from her thoughts. “We haven’t talked a lot about it, or what to expect, but that’s just because we’re not sure right now on some of the details. Okay?”