Mia wasn't sure what to make of him but apparently Robert knew what to do with her.As she let herself in to Mac's house she recalled vividly Robert's words of earlier this evening."Will you marry me, Amy?"Mia shuddered, she despised the nickname Amy. How could he ask her about marriage? They weren't dating, they had never dated! They had a business relationship only; their dinners together were meetings with prospective buyers or to secure commissions on a piece of jewelry. How had he gotten the idea for marriage?Mia felt her skin crawl. Robert was not her type at all; in fact she wasn't sure whether or not he had ties to the New York Mafia.Leaving her overnight bag in the living room Mia made her way to the kitchen, the clock above the stove read seven in the morning. She helped herself to some coffee, thankful the pot was on an automatic timer.Mia knew from experience that Mac was about done with his shower and it shouldn't be much longer before he stumbled down the stairs, still. Now, however, thevoice would neither confirm nor deny its earlier claim. Not long after,the day found her crying once more, and searching for a way to get outof the mask. It remained futile to try; the mask remained resolutelyhidden from her fingers. Around 2:00 in the afternoon, the anxiety was almost more than she couldstand, only this time she had practiced exercising restraint andcomposure. When at last she heard her mother making her way up thestairs, Kim crawled onto her bed, grabbed another magazine and pretendedto read. Cindy cracked the door of Kim's bedroom. Kim looked, saw hermother peering in and pretended to be indifferent, her heart pounding inher chest harder than a steam powered jackhammer. "Hi Sweetie." Cindy said tenderly. It was the last sort of greetingKim expected. Kim resisted the urge to run and humble herself in front of her mother.This would have been looked upon as more bizarre behavior. It mighthave also served to have thrown her deeper down the.
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