Page 50 of Wanted
“What?!” I shriek and halt my pacing. I feel Chance’s eyes on me. But I focus on the conversation with my mother.
“She’s with you? Since when? How long? When did she get back from Florida?” I throw a hand over my mouth.
Florida was all but forbidden territory for Ashley and me since we moved to New York with our adoptive parents.
My mother doesn’t immediately answer.
“Hello? Mother?”
“Which question would you like me to answer first?” she asks in a calm, detached voice. It’s her normal demeanor.
“Shall I inform you that your sister arrived home two days ago from the unapproved vacation she suddenly took? The one you apparently knew about? Or shall I get to the part where your sister specifically defied our wishes and went to Florida?”
I clear my suddenly dry throat.
“But she’s at home? With you?” I emphasize the second question.
“Yes, that is what I just said, isn’t it?”
Ignoring the impatience tone in my mother’s voice, I ask, “Can I speak with her? Is she okay? Why hasn’t she called me?”
“What have I told you about asking too many questions back to back?”
I tighten my hand around the phone. My patience is wavering, but instead of giving into my impatience, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. As I count down from five, I reopen my eyes.
“I apologize, Mother,” I respond in the contrite voice she drilled into me as the correct way for a woman to apologize.
“May I please speak with her?”
“That’s not possible right now,” my mother answers quickly. “Your sister apparently got into some sort of trouble on her supposed vacation to Florida. She’s fine, but she’s resting.”
“I—”
“I’ll have her call you when she’s ready. I have a lunch at the club in twenty minutes,” she informs me. “I have to go. Make sure to answer your phone moving forward, especially when Billy calls.”
She hangs up before I have the chance to say goodbye.
I pull the phone from my ear, staring at it.
“Your mother.” Chance’s deep voice startles me. I spin around to look at him.
“Yes,” I say as I push out a sigh of relief. “Ashley’s back home.”
Chance doesn’t immediately respond. Though I do notice something flicker in his eyes.
Before I can ask him about the emotion, a sudden hunger pang hits my stomach. It’s so intense that I clutch my belly. Chance frowns as he peers down at my hand over my stomach.
“You’re hungry.”
“Sorry, was my stomach growling that loudly?” I joke.
When I peer back up at Chance’s expression, he isn’t smiling as I’d intended. The look on his face is more somber than humor-filled. I wonder what caused such a change in expression.
“The pack always prepares a big breakfast,” he says.
“Oh…okay.”
He spins away from me and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to turn to face me again. Something about the way he looks at me makes me feel…wanted.