—Nathaniel—I sat up straighter and lowered my glass on the coffee table before taking the call.Mama Emelda’s face filled the screen. She was seated on a high-backed chair in her study, wrapped in a dark shawl.“Good evening, Mama,” I said.She squinted as though surveying my environment. “You're in London.”“Yes Mama,” I swallowed.“I thought you were pursuing a contract in France.”I let out a breath. “Yes, Mama. But Eloise and Damian flew in from the States and offered to help.”“Why?” A faint smile lit her eyes. “Does this, by any chance, have to do with the girl you attended the gala with?”My cheeks reddened. She always had a way of asking questions that she already knew the answer.“If you’re asking, Mama, then you already know.”She lifted her face with quiet authority, a fake frown crossing her features.“Are you avoiding my question?”“Yes, Mama. It has to do with her.”She burst into laughter. “Of course. I just wanted to hear you say that.”I let out a deep breath, a smil
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