The Flaked Life Of Lotanna

43

══✿══╡°˖✧LOTANNA✧˖°╞══✿══

CONNECTICUT, UNITED STATES

It had been four months, and I finally opened my restaurant. With less drama in a stable environment, I felt like this was the best decision I had made in a long while. While I got my restaurant going, Mum and Dad helped take care of Josefina and Jocelyn. Christa moved in with us, which made it easier to have company all the time.

I was crouching behind the old wooden counter of the LotannaCo Bar and Grill, putting away some napkins, when I heard the front door open. Quick, light footsteps echoed across the antique planked floor as whoever made their way towards me. We were closed for another hour, and the door should have been locked. Christa must have forgotten to secure it again when she'd gone to get some stuff for the opening party later this evening.

I stood, ready to throw out the intruder, but hesitated when I saw an older woman standing in the middle of the room. She looked around with a vague expression. She looked familiar, although I couldn't quite place her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, leaning my forearms on the counter. "We're not open."

The woman turned, chocolate brown eyes wide and confused in an oval face, and I drew in a breath.

Collin's mum in the flesh, by God. "Mrs. Smith," I said, straightening away from behind the counter. "What are you doing here?" My voice was icy, but I couldn't help that. I hadn't spoken to or seen her after the incident in Collin's house. This only meant he was here.

Instead of giving me the confident, superior smile, I remembered so well. Her dark brows furrowed over her thin nose. "We need to talk."

She had the guts. No, we didn't have to talk — she already made her point. I was no good for her son, and the asshole of a son never cared to reach out. "There's nothing to talk about, Mrs. Smith."

"Can I sit down? It's nice here," she said hesitantly.

"Please, sit down," I said, taking a deep breath, and this time the kindness was natural. "Don't worry, I'll get you some coffee, and we'll talk."

"Okay." She tried to pull out one of the sturdy wooden chairs at a nearby table, and I hastened forward to help when it looked like the effort might cause her to topple over.

Once seated, the older woman looked up and smiled a beautiful smile, clear and bright. I blinked. She had never smiled at me like that before.

"You are indeed nice," she whispered as she sat down. "Colin was right about you, but I was too stubborn to see the goodness you had. I hope you can forgive me."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I turned and went behind the bar. A massive coffee machine sat on the back counter, a full pot simmering on its burner. I got a clean mug, poured coffee, then doctored it with a couple of sugar, and the last half-and-half from the open carton in the refrigerator under the bar—sweet and light.

The front door slammed open as if on cue, and a man came rushing in. "Mum? Mum, are you...?" his voice trailed off, and he skidded to a halt.

Collin.

I had tried to prepare myself for the impact of seeing him again after a few months, but the reality still punched me in the gut. I stared at him. His dark eyes, so like his mother's, glittering in his rugged face, the broad shoulders, and the long, muscled legs.

"Lotanna," he said, his voice deep and soft, a velvet growl.

I forced myself to remain casual, arms crossed, chin up, leaving the coffee I was already preparing. "Collin."