Sydney, New South Wales
Australia
1992
“ Why do you insist on wearing those hideous clothes, Zoe?” Mother stood in the doorway of their four-star hotel room, hands gripping her hips, scowl harder than a sun-baked worm on Southern California asphalt.
Matching her stare, Zoe Morgan raked the inside of her cheek with the braces on her molars and glanced down at her nondescript flannel shirt and jeans. She started to say, “Because they match the ugly freak wearing them,” but she scratched it. Candace would whip out her little notebook, twist open her precious Montblanc pen, and write that one down for the shrink, for sure.
“ I don’t expect you to understand.” Zoe snatched her book bag off the bed and slung it over her shoulder, barely missing Mother’s chin with the swing.
Oops.
A couple of lines in Mother’s brow smoothed under the weight of feigned concern, but the wolfish blue eyes betrayed her. She slid a rough hand down Zoe’s arm. “Honey, please. If my colleagues see you dressed like that, it’ll—”
“ Embarrass you?” God, Zoe could only hope.
Mother straightened her spine and yanked off a stray thread from a seam of her smart gray suit. Her clothes always conveyed an air of femininity blended with razor-sharp shrewdness. The elegant appearance underscored her impressive title: Dr. Candace Morgan, Professor of Evolutionary Biology.
Patting down the back of her salt-and-pepper bob, Mother sighed with obvious displeasure. “Can’t you just wear the outfit I brought for you?”
Hell no. “I’d rather not.”
Candace stepped in front of her and took Zoe’s hands. “Please. For me?”
Hmm. The begging was new. And she’d never seen Mother pout like that.
Zoe’s resolve wavered.
Cunning, predatory light opened Mother’s pupils for a split second. She dropped her hands. “I’ll make a deal with you. Wear the other outfit, and we’ll go up to Hervey Bay tomorrow. My colleague, Dr. Simons, lives there and has a boat. I’ll ask him to take us out for the day.”
Zoe’s heart skipped a beat, and the invisible geek antennae on top of her head stood at attention. Man, Candace really knew how to push her buttons. It was like she saved up a week’s supply of passive aggression and unleashed it all at once. How could Zoe resist an offer like this?
“ Can he show me the whales? They’re migrating down the coast now…”
Wait. She couldn’t come off as too eager. Mother would use it to her advantage.
“ I mean, if he has the time. I’m sure the humpbacks are pretty far offshore.” She shrugged and batted the air with her hand. “Never mind. We can always see them at home. No biggie.” Man, she hoped she played that with just the right amount of apathy.
Candace’s upper lip twitched as she headed for the open suitcase on the dresser. She removed a neatly folded pair of girly-ass pink slacks and a pin-tucked, button-down shirt littered with a gaudy magnolia print. The thing screamed Old lady! so loud, the blood pulsing in Zoe’s ears threatened to split her eardrum in two. She pushed out a long hiss between clenched teeth as Mother handed over the stack.
You can do this. The guy has a boat—not like a whale watch, but his own personal boat.
She wished crazy Aunt Renee were here to make light of the situation. And maybe give little sis Candace an elbow to the ribs.
Under Mother’s watchful gaze, Zoe took the clothes into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She unbuttoned her blue and green flannel, revealing a flat chest to the unwitting mirror, which she half expected to shatter. Jeans slid down her stick legs, scarred from growing too fast. She kicked them to the side.
Wearing a pair of white cotton undies and a thoroughly unimpressed training bra, she frowned at herself. She tugged her wispy, long blond hair back and tied it into a ponytail. Under the fluorescent light, her too-big blue eyes twinkled in a reciprocal dance with the shiny
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