Page 49 of Marcus

“Perfect.”

Cella smiled from her spot behind the desk in her Rochester office at the conversation happening outside in the hallway. Sometimes, for whatever reason, but usually work, when she was unable to pick her daughter from pre-K or daycare—when she attended—then one of the trusted Marcello drivers made the trip to Rochester to do just that.

Today, it had been one of her brother’s men because apparently, John hadn’t minded allowing Cella to call on one of his enforcer’s for the day, and it was just her luck that he was available to pick Tiffany up from pre-K. The guy was one of the only people that Tiffany preferred over others when it couldn’t be her mother there to pick her up. She’d made friends with the man—who looked better suited on the defense line of a football team—during her movie night sleepovers at her uncle’s place.

Soon, her daughter darted through the doorway of Cella’s opened office wearing the sky-blue leggings that didn’t match the green shirt and pink shoes she’d picked out that morning. Five was a cute age for kids—or maybe it was just girls. Tiffany was determined every single morning to pick out her own clothes, and sit next to the mirror to do her hair and pretend like she was putting on makeup the same way her mother did.

Yeah, Cella could have put her foot down and made her kid wear clothes that matched, or even straightened her messy pony, but where was the fun in that? How would Tiffany ever learn to be independent and happy with herself when someone else was always trying to change something to make it better?

So, she let her kid pick out her outfits.

Unmatched colors and all.

“Hey, Ma!”

Tiffany’s bright smile and twinkling eyes greeted her as the enforcer came to stand in the doorway, too. Pushing her chair away from the desk slightly, it allowed her daughter the chance to slip in behind to give her mother a hug.

That wasn’t good enough for Cella.

She missed her kid so much.

All the time, really.

Once she had little Tiffany pulled into her lap, Cella wrapped her daughter in a tight hug and breathed in the familiar scent of her child. No matter the stresses of the day or what was going on in her life, all she needed to do was hug this girl to make it a million times better. Maybe that was the most beautiful thing about unconditional love.

“How was your day?” Cella asked.

Tiffany leaned back, still beaming while she stared at her mother. Thankfully, the French braid she’d allowed her mother to put her hair in that day managed to stay put through all her playtime and whatever else she’d taken part in at pre-K. “Pretty good—I missed you, though.”

Cella pressed her lips together, smiling just a little bit. “Yeah, me too, but you know it’s good to go to school, right? That’s how you get smarter, and—”

“I know, Ma.”

And yet …

“Still missed you,” Tiffany said.

Cella sighed.

Because where was the lie?

This was just yet another reason why she found herself constantly worrying about what would happen when Tiffany started kindergarten in the fall. Right now, she spent only a couple of hours here or there in daycare and two days a week at pre-K. Cella’s job allowed her the privilege of having her child with her throughout the week a lot of the time.

Once school started, though?

That would all change.

How Tiffany might react to that was still up in the air, and a major source of worry for Cella the closer the time came for her girl to start the school year. Then again, this girl was constantly surprising her mother with the level of maturity she showed at just five years old, so anything was possible.

Hell, maybe it would be Cella who cried that first day. Not that she would tell anyone she did so. Those little moments were her secrets to keep.

“If that’s all …”

Cella forgot all about the waiting enforcer in her office doorway. Meeting the gaze of the man, she smiled and nodded. “That is all. Thanks again, Alex, for looking after my girl.”

“Anything for family of the boss. Have a good day, Cella.”

“You, too.”