Free Mia's Heart (The Paradise Diaries) by Courtney Cole

mother said that we didn’t hang out
much, but that she didn’t know why.  But I’m guessing that my mother
didn’t know everything there was to know about me, either.”
    Elena
stares at me silently.  She’s examining me, picking me apart.  But
why?
    “No,
we weren’t very good friends,” she tells me finally.  “I don’t know
why.  I guess I’m not always a nice person.  And you never tolerated
any crap.  That intimidated me.”
    I’m
an intimidating bad ass? 
    I’m
not sure that I like me very much.
    “So
you were the mean girl and I was the bad ass?” I guess.  She smiles
slowly. 
    “I
suppose so.”
    “My
mother thinks that I should try to be friends with you,” I tell her
bluntly.  “Because you understand what it’s like to be me—a child of a
political family.  Do you want to be friends?”
    Elena
stares at me in surprise.  I can tell that she doesn’t know what to
say.  She wasn’t expecting this from me. But I wasn’t expecting any of
this from her, either, so I guess we’re even.
    “Well,
you’re certainly not any less blunt,” she observes. “You’ve always said exactly
what was on your mind.  Okay, Mia.  We can try to be friends. 
It should be interesting.”
    “Yes,”
I answer quietly. “It should be interesting.”
    We
chat for a little while longer and it seems uncomfortable, but it gets easier
toward the end.  I finally make my way toward the door and close it behind
me.  I exhale a long breath and lean against it. 
    Why
do I feel like I just made a deal with the devil?
    That’s
ridiculous.  Right?
    Elena
might have red hair, but she’s not the devil.
    I
spend the rest of the walk to my own room trying to convince myself of that.

 
    Chapter Nine
     
     
     
    I
press my face against the glass of my mother’s car. I leave a nose print, but I
don’t care.  The hills of Caberra speed past us as my mom winds through
the curvy roads toward Giliberti House. 
    Apparently,
our house is uninhabitable and will have to be re-built in order for us to
return home.  Until then, my mother and I will be staying at Dimitri
Giliberti’s family home, Giliberti House.  It is located in a huge estate
surrounded by olive groves outside of Valese. 
    Also
apparently, I’ve been there a million times before because that is where I
work…in their gift shop.  I sell gourmet olive oils and whatnot.  And
I say ‘whatnot’ because I have no idea what else I sell there.  Sigh.
    “We’re
almost there,” my mom says. I know she’s assuming that my sigh was a result of
being in the car.  “You’ll see the olive groves soon.”
    And
I do.  We round one more curve and I see hundreds of olive trees, their
lush green tops touching the sky.  The olives look like pebbles on the branches. 
    “Your
father will come out on the weekends,” my mother tells me.  “He’s going to
stay in the city during the week for work reasons.  He’s worried about
you, though.  He’s hoping that the peace and quiet out here will help you
relax and recover more quickly.”
    Him
and me both. 
    I’m
sick of this whole can’t-remember-who-I-am-thing.
    I
nod wordlessly, taking in the scenery as my mother turns into a long, long
drive.  Flowering trees line each side and white blossoms drift through
the air, padding the stone lane beneath us with a thick blanket of
petals.  It looks like a painting.  I take a whiff of the
sweet-smelling air. 
    “It’s
gorgeous here, right?” my mother asks, lifting an eyebrow. 
    “Yes,”
I agree.  “It is.”
    She
pulls into a circular drive and we get out of the car.  The house is
amazingly beautiful, like something out of a fancy fairytale.  Warm light
floods from the windows onto the manicured lawn around it.  It draws me to
it and makes me want to run into the house. 
    A
tiny little woman comes out, stooped and elderly.  But she moves
quickly.  She is down the stairs before I can even speak.  Her hair
is pulled into a neat