“Most mothers don’t visit their daughters for three fuckin’ months, you know.”

Mom pointed at her with her fork. “Watch your mouth, Agatha Christine. I’m leaving soon.”

“You’ve been saying that every day since you moved in. The least you could do is admit that you’re here to stay.”

Mom shook her head. “I’m waiting for the all clear.” She reached into the neckline of her baggy sweatshirt and pulled a necklace free. “Here, I want you to have this.” She lifted the long chain over her head and handed a hideous, heart-shaped locket to Aggie. It attempted to be gold, but the paint was flaking off to reveal the white plastic beneath. Aggie had never seen it before.

“Gee thanks, Mom. Did you pick this up from Goodwill or the dumpster behind Dollar General?”

“I found it in an old shoe box the other day. Your father gave that to me.”

Aggie rolled her eyes. “The deadbeat Elvis impersonator?”

“Don’t disrespect your father.”

“I don’t think I can call a man I never met my father. He doesn’t know I exist.”

“Oh, he knows. I told him I was pregnant. That’s why he split.” Mom smiled nostalgically. “He was really handsome, doll. You look a lot like him.”

“Yes, my legacy is to be the greatest female Elvis impersonator to ever live. Too bad I sound like a strangled ostrich when I sing.” Aggie slipped the locket’s chain over her head. It wasn’t like her mother gave her things of importance on a regular basis. She did appreciate the gesture. She was just… tired. And really wanted her life back. And to be able to make love to Jace on the kitchen floor whenever the urge struck her. Not that he was around enough to appease those urges, but if he had been.

“Be proud of who you are, Agatha.”

Aggie nodded and squeezed the gaudy locket in her hand. “Thanks for the necklace, Mom. It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, but I’ll treasure it.”

Mom smiled one of those rare smiles that touched her tired eyes. She’d had a hard life. It showed in every line of her face. Hard to believe the woman was only forty-seven.

Mom grabbed Aggie around the waist and pulled her next to her side. “Are you happy, baby?”

For some reason, her mother’s question made an image of Jace dominate her thoughts, like it did every twenty seconds or so. Aggie smiled, examining the locket more closely. “I’m working on it. Is there a picture inside?”

“It doesn’t open. Never did. It’s not really a locket.” Mom elbowed Aggie in the ribs affectionately. “We’re okay, right?”

Aggie nodded. “We’re okay.”

Mom kissed Aggie’s arm and patted her butt. “Go on to bed.”

“I have someone coming to pick up a corset this evening,” Aggie said. “I have to get it done before I even think about sleeping.”

“No, you don’t,” Mom said with an ear to ear grin. “I finished it for you.”

Aggie felt the blood drain from her face. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I did a bang-up job.”

Aggie dashed into her dining room and stopped dead in her tracks. Spread across the surface of the dining room table beside her sewing machine was the corset she’d been working on before she’d headed to the club the night before. Her mother had done a bang-up job all right. If bang-up was a synonym for fucked-up. The stitching was uneven. One cup of the garment was the premeasured D, the other a lopsided A. The Forget-Me-Not embroidery pattern didn’t match because Aggie’s practiced stitches decorated one side, and her mother’s kindergarten project disgraced the other. It wasn’t like Aggie could remove the misplaced stitches and fix it. Unlike cloth, if you poked a hole in leather, it stayed there. She’d have to completely start over.

“Mother!”

“Not bad for my first try. Maybe we could go into business together.”

Aggie picked up the corset and tugged at it to see if by some miracle it would straighten itself out. The ribbing was sewn in so that any woman unlucky enough to put it on would have her rib cage punctured and suffer a collapsed lung. “It’s ruined.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Aggie. It’s fine.”

She couldn’t make out her mother’s expression through her tears of frustration. “It isn’t fine. Nothing you touch is fine.”

Her mother took a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re right. I’m the biggest fuckup on the planet.” And now she was crying. Great, just fucking great. She destroyed Aggie’s work and then somehow managed to make her feel guilty about it.

“You need to not be near me right now, Mom,” Aggie said. “I have a lot of work to do.” She grabbed a seam ripper and tore the garment into sections, praying that she might be able to salvage some of the panels—especially the one she’d embroidered—and just replace those her mother had messed up.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said in a shaky voice. “I thought I could help. I know how hard you’re always working, and I’m a huge burden on you. I make up stories about the Mafia so you’ll take me in, and I eat your food and borrow money out of your purse to buy cigarettes. I know I deserve to be kicked out, but I don’t have an-anywhere else to gooooo.” She was wailing now.

Aggie paused in her angry retaliation against a helpless corset. “Wait. What? You made up that story about borrowing money from the Mafia?”

Mom probably should not have revealed that while Aggie had a sharp object in her hand.

“Are-are-are-are you mad at meeeeee?”

The woman should go into acting. She was a natural.

“Un-fucking-believable. Well, at least I can stop working overtime, since I no longer have to save money to pay off your stupid loan.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” Mom turned off the waterworks like a plumber with a pipe wrench.

“No. Just go away. You’ve done enough.”

“Now you’re just being bitchy.”

Aggie stiffened. Bitchy? “I need a freakin’ vacation,” Aggie said under her breath, shredding the ruined half of the corset with her seam ripper so she didn’t attack her mother with its deadly point.

Chapter 18

Sitting in the studio on their first day off-tour in three weeks, Jace smiled when he saw who the text message was from. Aggie. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He had plans to see her in Vegas that weekend, though he hadn’t shared those plans with her. As he read her words on the screen, his smile faded.

I’m in LA. Text me your address. I thought I’d stay with you for a few days. Mom is driving me insane. I had to get out of Vegas.

His place? He’d never invited her to his place for a reason. He lived in a dump in a bad neighborhood. That was sure to cause a barrage of uncomfortable questions. Jace needed to intercept her and convince her that they should spend a romantic weekend in some expensive hotel. He turned to the producer, Chris. They were sitting outside the booth where Eric was recording drum tracks for their upcoming album.

“Do you know any five-star hotels in Los Angeles?” Jace asked.

Chris lifted an eyebrow. “I dunno. That big pink one where all the celebs go. What’s it called?” He snapped his fingers. “The Beverly Hills Hotel.”

“Where’s that?”

“Sunset Boulevard. Where else?”

Jace didn’t hang around Beverly Hills. He did know Sunset Boulevard though. “Do you think I can get a reservation there?”

Chris chuckled. “If you can’t, I’m sure Trey can.”

Unlike Jace, Trey hung around Beverly Hills regularly. He’d been raised there and had social connections with the rich and famous. Jace texted a message back to Aggie.

Why don’t you meet me at The Beverly Hills Hotel? It’s on Sunset Boulevard. We’ll spend the weekend there together.

He decided to sweeten the deal.

I’ll bring my suitcase and spoil you.

Waiting for her response, Jace gave Eric a thumbs-up in the booth when he came to the end of his track.

“Perfect,” Chris said to Eric through the mic.