Chapter Twenty-Seven
“WHAT DO YOU THINK OF this outfit?” Lola held up a blush jacket with a matching blouse and some cute ankle pants. An executive from SoundWave had finally reached out to me, and they wanted to have a Zoom call on Monday—more of a formal interview than the one I’d had with Sidney.
Lola had eagerly volunteered to style me. I think she just liked playing dress-up. The girl had clothes for days, everything from professional attire to formal wear. I’d never seen such a huge walk-in closet, including an area for seating and a fancy, standing, three-sided mirror on a raised platform.
“It’s super cute,” I said from the chaise lounge. You heard me right—a chaise lounge in a closet. I didn’t know how I was ever going to recover from living a life with the rich and famous all summer.
“We’ll add it to the pile for you to try on.” She hung it up on a standing rack already filled with all the outfits she thought would look good on me. As luck would have it, we were almost identically shaped and wore the same size.
“I really appreciate you doing this.” I’d already spent a fortune on clothes, and since I didn’t have a need for a big professional wardrobe, I didn’t want to spend more money if I didn’t have to.
Living in Aspen Lake felt a lot like being Cinderella at the ball—perfect and dreamy with Prince Charming himself. But I knew in a month the magic would end, and I would have to go back to real life. Even though I wasn’t sure where real life would lead me. Would it be Nebraska or Florida? Or who knew where else? All I knew was that it was going to be away from all the people I was coming to love in Aspen Lake.
Yes, I said love . Believe me, I was trying my best not to have those feelings where Logan was concerned. But seriously, I dared anyone not to fall in love with the man. It was harder than one might think. I was preparing myself for major heartbreak. But I wouldn’t trade it. Mom used to say that mended hearts were the strongest ones, and I knew my heart was going to need some extensive repair soon.
“Of course. I’m so excited for you. I can’t wait to plan a trip to wherever you land.”
“Promise?” At least I would keep Lola out of the deal—that I knew.
“Yes.” She plopped down next to me on the chaise. “We are friends forever.”
I smiled in agreement. I still couldn’t get over the feeling that I knew her from somewhere in my past. Maybe it was just one of those kismet things where we were meant to be friends. Perhaps that’s what I always felt around her.
“I’m so glad.” I gave her a quick hug.
“So, tell me more about Logan’s mom and stepdad.”
“His mom is a riot. She reminds me a lot of my own mom. She likes to be the life of the party and make people laugh. Victor, his stepdad, is a thoughtful guy—so kind. He obviously adores his wife and agrees with anything she says or wants to do. He’d probably put on a tutu and do a ballet performance if she asked him to. It’s really cute.”
“If that happens, call me. That, I need to see,” Lola laughed. “Was it weird meeting his parents? Do they know about your arrangement?”
“Oh, yeah,” I exaggerated. “And his mom has thoughts.” I bit my lip, thinking of the conversation we’d had during dinner the night before.
“Spill, chica,” Lola said impatiently.
I was still trying to process it all. “Well, let’s just say she thinks it’s silly we’ve already decided how it ends.”
“She’s not exactly wrong,” Lola said carefully .
“Says the woman who keeps telling the love of her life that she’s just not sure, even though it’s obvious you are,” I teased her.
Lola pursed her lips. “Guilty as charged, but it’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“It’s just, Papi is worried that we fell in love too young and that Alejandro ...,” she hesitated to go on.
“Doesn’t make enough money?” I guessed.
Lola cringed. “That sounds so terrible, but kind of, I think. Papi’s parents are very strict and judgmental. I don’t love being around them. Papi has tried not to be like them. I don’t think he likes how he grew up, but he would never say that. He’s grateful his parents gave him such a good life. I think he just wants to make sure I will continue to have the kind of life I’m used to.”
I looked around her closet, realizing it was half the size of my entire apartment. “It would be hard to give this up.”
“I would for Alejandro,” she whispered. “But Alejandro feels guilty about it. Like he’s not worthy or something.” The ache in her voice was apparent. “Of course, I don’t feel that way. Alejandro is such a hard worker. His family’s concrete business is successful, but they aren’t Ivy League graduates like all the Harringtons are expected to be. Most of Alejandro’s family didn’t even go to college. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she made sure to say. “But Papi’s parents wouldn’t agree.”
“They wouldn’t like me, then.” I giggled, even though I felt awful for Lola and even a little ridiculous myself. It confirmed my suspicions that Maxwell didn’t want some unemployed lowlife hanging out with his daughter.
It made me question whether or not I should go through with the interview. Maybe Logan was right. There was a cost associated with his help—my dignity, knowing that he’d only helped me because he didn’t think I was good enough to be friends with Lola. But was I seriously going to throw away an opportunity like this? Did I just need to swallow my pride?
“It would be their loss,” Lola grumbled. “Besides, I don’t care what my grandparents think. ”
Suddenly, I felt like I wanted to go home and talk to Logan. I grabbed my stomach. “I’m feeling a little funny. Would you mind if I came back later to try on the clothes?”
“Oh, chica.” Lola jumped up. “Are you okay? Can I get you something?”
“You’re sweet. I’m sure it’s something that will pass quickly.” At least I hoped it would. I really didn’t want to miss this opportunity, but I wasn’t sure if I could live with myself. I had to talk to someone not related to Maxwell about this.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, standing up slowly. I felt bad putting on a sick act. But I was ill about all of this, so I wasn’t really lying.
Lola walked me out of her room and down the hall lined with stylized black-and-white photos of her gorgeous family. Mom and I had never had professional photos taken. But I loved the ones of us together from her old Polaroid camera. I had them all in an album.
Knowing what snobs Maxwell and his parents were, I was surprised he’d ever liked my mom’s band. They weren’t exactly classy. The fact that he still listened to them was shocking, I thought as we passed his office. But it reminded me ...
“Hey, would it be weird if I took some pictures of the Roxannes concert posters and articles your dad has? I want to show them to Logan.” And who knew if I would visit this house again. I would continue my friendship with Lola, of course, but if I declined the interview, I had a feeling Maxwell wouldn’t want me to come around any longer.
“Are you going to ask the doctor to make a house call tonight?” She playfully nudged me. “I’m sure he’ll have you feeling better in no time.”
He definitely had that effect. “I’m sure he will.” I tried to sound cheerful about that prospect, but I was sure it had come out flat. The looming decisions and consequences hanging over me had me feeling, well, ill.
Lola tried to enter her dad’s office. “That’s weird. He hardly ever locks this door. And it’s pointless, anyway. I’ve known how to break in since I was six. This was where my parents hid all my Christmas and birthday presents. I always peeked,” she admitted with no remorse while she pulled a bobby pin out of her hair.
“Are you sure you should do this?” It felt wrong to break into her dad’s office, especially knowing he probably thought I was a miscreant or something.
She waved away my concern. “He probably didn’t mean to lock it.”
I didn’t know how you accidentally locked a door, but before I could say another word, Lola had that baby open. Color me impressed.
“Go on in.” Lola gestured toward the French doors.
I tiptoed in, feeling guilty and worried about what I might see. What if Camila had just given him some boudoir photos or something and that was why he’d locked the door? That could scar Lola, and it wasn’t exactly anything I wanted to see either. Worse, what if they had some boudoir photos done together? Please no.
Mr. Harrington’s expensive cologne lingered in the air as if he’d been there recently. Did that mean he was still home? I’d seen him briefly when I’d arrived. It made me feel more nervous being inside his office.
I glanced around to see if I could find what I was looking for. Oddly, his otherwise tidy mahogany desk held the posters and articles I was looking for, strewn across it as if he had been looking at them and had to hastily exit. Additional posters from other venues the Roxannes had played around the country piqued my interest. Why hadn’t he included these when he’d shown me the rest of his collection?
“I’m checking his closet just in case,” Lola joked. “Maybe they got me an early birthday present.”
I laughed while I pulled my phone out of my bag to snap some pictures. While I rearranged the posters and articles, something beneath them caught my eye. I found a manila envelope with a few letters spilling out. I was going to ignore them, as it was none of my business, except handwriting I would recognize anywhere caught my eye, and it quickly became my business.
I inched a few of the envelopes out of the enclosure, just enough to confirm that my mother’s hand had penned Maxwell’s name and address on each letter. Huh. Maxwell had never mentioned they were pen pals. Maybe it was like a fan club thing. Or ... maybe not .
I inched the letters out farther, exposing a Polaroid photo of a baby—me wrapped in my favorite pink floral blanket I’d slept with until I was seven years old. Mom had washed it so many times it had literally fallen apart. Why would my mother send Maxwell a photo of me?
Uh. No. It couldn’t be. Could it? There was only one reason I could think of, and it punched me in the gut like a Mike Tyson TKO. It all made sense now why my mom sent me to Aspen Lake.
Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh. I wished I would have found some boudoir photos. They would have made me much less queasy.
As quickly and as discreetly as I could, I grabbed the manila envelope while Lola was in the closet and ran without even saying goodbye. I needed to know the truth. I needed to know if Maxwell Harrington was my father.