Chapter Thirty-Eight
“OOH, TRY THIS ONE OUT.” I patted the cushion next to me on the ridiculously priced leather couch in the home decor studio in Aspen Lake. The small town didn’t have enormous furniture warehouses like we did back in Nebraska, full of oversize couches and hundreds of recliners that looked like they belonged in your grandma’s house. This place was all style and grace, with the classiest furniture I’d ever seen in my life—you know, besides the stuff at Lola’s house.
Come to think of it, I’d bet this was where Camila and you-know-who had bought their furniture. To top it off, this place didn’t have salespeople hounding you—you got assigned an interior designer. And not just any interior designer. Dante was the height of cool, dressed in a black edgy outfit, wearing triangle-framed glasses, his gray hair pulled back in a pristine man bun.
I mean, it was a way to go. But Logan would never know the joy of haggling your third cousin twice removed who smelled like stale beer and cigar smoke to give you a better deal on a table made of MDF. To each his own.
Logan sat as close to me as possible, until our bare legs touched. Logan had convinced me it was okay for me to wear cutoffs to this appointment. I loved that he didn’t want me to be anyone but myself. Granted, he just loved my legs, but I liked that too.
“I like this.” He did a little bounce to test it out.
“Do you think Dante would mind if we lay down on it and made out? How else will we really know how comfortable this couch is and if it suits your needs?” I whispered, teasing him. Dante was off getting us some spritzers. Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up.
“You mean our needs?” Logan crooned in that freaking fantastic voice of his, making me want to accost him. I still wasn’t over his Sinatra number. Or the fact that furniture shopping was number three on the bucket list he’d come up with.
He seemed to have taken a page out of Mom’s book and come up with items that led to something greater and more meaningful. That being to convince me I belonged with him in this town. Mom always told me if a man asks for your opinion about furniture, it means he sees you in his space.
I also recognized that Logan finally furnishing his place meant that he was ready to move forward in his life. It wasn’t moving on from Erica, and he finally realized there was a difference. You didn’t move on from the people you loved; you just got to carry them with you into the next phase. There was something healing about that.
But despite my desire to push him over and kiss his face off, I held it together and demurely responded, “If you love it, I think it will suit our needs just fine.” I mean, we had proven we could make out just about anywhere, and this couch was a lot bigger than the seats in his convertible or the sofa in the break room at the hospital.
Oh, we’d tested that baby out. The head nurse, Evie, was none too pleased about it and scowled at me every time I visited now.
“But the real question is,” I posed, “What do you think of some framed black-and-white concert posters for the wall?”
Logan barked out a laugh. “You won’t believe this, but I imagined you would ask me that.”
I loved that. “You did?”
Logan nodded, and Dante returned with our spritzers in champagne glasses with a twist of lime on each rim.
“I think that’s a chic idea.” Dante handed me a glass.
“Really?” That was shocking.
“Yes, darling,” Dante responded.
“There you go.” I nudged Logan. “I’m chic. Who knew? ”
Logan grinned and took a glass, clinking it to mine in a quiet toast.
I wasn’t sure he liked the concert poster idea. Not everyone could be chic like me.
“I think we’ll take the couch,” Logan informed Dante.
“Perfect. Let me show you some pieces I think will match and round out your great room space. And then we can move on to dining room furniture.” Dante’s brown eyes lit up with dollar signs. Judging by the price of the furniture we’d seen, I was sure he was looking at a nice commission check.
“Follow me.” Dante clapped his hands.
This was all so surreal for me, and yet it felt real and honest being there with Logan, living life with him. Sure, the price tag by the time we left gave me major sticker shock. Logan had spent more on furniture than I made in a year as a DJ.
I didn’t mention it as we walked out of the store hand in hand into the warm evening air, out onto Main Street, which felt a lot like stepping into a Hallmark movie. Charming storefronts, each adorned with large windows, lined the street, some displaying artisanal goods, others expensive clothing or posh advertisements. Flower boxes overflowed with vibrant blooms, their petals spilling out onto the sidewalks.
“Where do you want to eat dinner?” he asked.
“You know I’m terrible at picking.”
“I do know that about you.” Logan chuckled, throwing on his shades in James Spader fashion. “It’s part of your charm. We could walk down to Moon Café and order everything off their menu,” he suggested.
Someone needed to pass me the smelling salts. This man. I gazed up at him adoringly, because did I ever adore him. “That might be the most attractive thing you have ever said to me.”
Before Logan could respond, I happened to briefly glance forward, only to find Maxwell Harrington walking out of a brick office building, dressed in a suit like he’d come from a business meeting.
I gripped Logan’s hand and stopped, jarring us both.
Maxwell’s gaze seemed to instinctively land on me. “Brooke,” he breathed out .
Logan tugged me closer, steadying me. I wasn’t ready for this encounter. Honestly, I didn’t think I was ever going to be. Maybe it was better that it had happened spontaneously and in the wild, like a bear encounter. The question was, would the bear attack or run away?
Maxwell’s flushed, slack expression seemed to indicate that he hadn’t been prepared for the run-in either.
A few shoppers passed by, eyeing us, probably wondering about the intense staring contest. Or perhaps they knew. The rumors and whispers had already started to fly. Lola hadn’t exactly been quiet since she’d discovered I was her sister. The onlookers propelled Maxwell to take a few steps in our direction. He probably didn’t want to make a scene.
“Are you okay?” Logan whispered.
The honest answer was that I didn’t know, but without thinking, I nodded.
As Maxwell approached, I noticed his face appeared thinner and void of its previous tan. From what Lola had said, I knew things weren’t exactly peachy keen at the Harrington residence. According to her, Camila and Maxwell weren’t even sharing a bedroom, and there was a lot of silence.
“Hello.” Maxwell swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple bob repeatedly.
“Hi,” I croaked, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I’ve been hoping for the opportunity to see you.”
My eyes narrowed. I didn’t believe him for one second.
Maxwell picked up on my visual cue. “I can understand why you might doubt that.” He blew out a large breath. “Hell, I’m terrible at this. Please, I would really like to talk to you.”
His eyes flickered to Logan, whose expression said, Tread carefully, you bastard. That was his favorite description of Maxwell and basically all he called him unless Sophie was around.
“Of course, you’re welcome to be part of the conversation.”
“You’re damn right I will be,” Logan spewed.
Seriously, I was no damsel in distress, but dang it if I didn’t love his protective, don’t mess with her side .
Maxwell’s response surprised me—he smiled as if he appreciated Logan’s attitude. Weird.
Maxwell shifted his attention back to me. “Can I take you to dinner?”
I rubbed my lips together, mulling the request over. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to eat. My stomach was twisted in knots. But I knew eventually I was going to have to face him, especially if I stayed in Aspen Lake. Assuming I could afford to. I was still working that out. Even apartments on the “other side” of the lake were expensive. And it wasn’t like they had a bustling radio market.
Then there was Lola to consider in all of this. Someday there would be events that required both Maxwell and me to be present, like her wedding, which I had a feeling would probably be sooner rather than later. She and Alejandro seemed to be heading more in that direction.
After the big reveal that I was her sister, she’d cared less about what her father—our father—thought about the situation. But she still cared about Maxwell. That I knew. This situation was breaking her heart. Maybe if I talked to the jerk, it would give Lola some comfort. I really was nailing my new big sister role.
“Sure,” I agreed. “We were just headed to Moon Café.”
“Perfect.” Maxwell clasped his hands together and turned on his heel.
Perfect was the last word I would use to describe the situation.
“Are you sure about this?” Logan whispered in my ear.
“Nope.” I let out a shaky laugh.
Logan kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand, swinging it between us. Meanwhile, I rehearsed arguments and dramatic exits in my head, like dumping Moon Café’s famous apple rose puff pastry on Maxwell’s head and saying, “That’s for my mom.” But I knew that wouldn’t happen. No way was I wasting that yummy dessert.
And as fun as it sounded, I didn’t want to make a scene. Honestly, it surprised me that Maxwell wanted to be seen in public with me. Everyone was going to know that he had a “love child.”
In my case, I was more of a lust child. Certainly from Maxwell’s perspective. My mother had loved him, and she definitely loved me. She’d given me everything, including Logan and my sister.
Once we took our seats at a table tucked into the corner of the cute café, it turned into the most awkward situation imaginable. We sat across from Maxwell, refusing to make eye contact as we all made useless comments about the weather while we waited for our food. Sadly, I didn’t get everything on the menu—just a Cobb salad I would probably eat only a few bites of.
If that weren’t uncomfortable enough, an older well-dressed man approached the table. “Maxwell, it’s good to see you.”
Maxwell stood, held out his hand, and shook it, playing his part well. After all, the Harringtons were iconic in this town. “It’s good to see you, Alan. How are you?”
Alan smiled and said, “Well,” before he glanced my way.
Oh, yeah, he totally knew who I was.
Not missing a beat, Maxwell waved his hand in my direction. “I’d like you to meet my daughter, Brooke Crawford, and her boyfriend, Logan Summers. You might have heard he’s the newest ER doctor at the hospital.”
I might have had a ministroke, as everything inside me went numb and all I could hear was this loud buzzing in my head. The only thing grounding me was Logan’s warm hand on my thigh. Had Maxwell just called me his daughter? In public? Why would he do that?
Technically speaking, it was true, but emotionally, it felt like it lacked some gravitas. But what was I supposed to say to this stranger? That he was mistaken? Especially when Alan was smiling widely at me and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Then he slapped Maxwell on the shoulder and said, “You’re a lucky man. Two beautiful daughters.”
Maxwell cleared his throat, the implications of his announcement surely settling over him. “Yes, I’m blessed.”
“Let’s do lunch next week.” Alan gave him another pat. “I have some property I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Call my assistant, and he’ll get you on my calendar,” Maxwell responded.
“Will do.” Alan snuck in another glance at me before making his goodbyes and jetting off .
Maxwell eased back into his seat, his gaze landing directly on me, his eyes pleading with me—for what, I didn’t know. “I apologize for that, but I want you to know that I’m not ashamed of you, only of my actions.”
“You’ve never treated me like a daughter.” My voice was low, but steady. I refused to make a scene.
“I know. And I know there is no making up for that. I’ve carried that shame with me for over thirty years.”
“Why the guilt when you didn’t believe my mother? I read the letters.” There was no keeping the bite out of my tone. Not after what he’d done to my mom.
Maxwell raised his pressed hands toward his lips, resting his elbows on the table. His knuckles whitened.
“Brooke,” he said, solemnly. “I realize nothing I say will ever make up for what I have done. There is no excuse. Especially because in my heart, I always knew your mother was telling the truth.”
I placed my hand on Logan’s, intertwining my fingers with his, needing to feel connected as I took in Maxwell’s words. It felt like someone had punctured my heart.
“You knew, but you never cared to find out about me or see how I was doing? What about my mom? Do you know what that did to her? You hurt her so much, she would hardly speak of you.” My voice remained measured, but it conveyed my pain. It would be a lie to deny he had hurt me.
Maxwell turned a shade paler, all the blood draining from his stately, handsome face. “I thought about you and your mother all the time, but a lie always begs for bigger lies. And if you tell them to yourself long enough, you start to believe them, at least for a little while. Long enough to move on with your life. Then I met Camila, and I couldn’t tell her what I’d done. I knew she would hate me for it. So, I just swore I would be a better man for her and then for Lola.” His voice gave way to emotion, but like me, he remained committed to keeping it reined in.
A cheerful server, probably no older than seventeen, appeared with our order, her bubbly energy a stark contrast to the weird vibes at our table. She placed the dishes down with a bright smile, oblivious to the awkwardness hanging in the air.
“Here you go! Let me know if you need anything else,” she chirped.
We thanked her, our voices strained with politeness, pretending this was no more than a friendly lunch. The plates of food she set in front of us, my favorite aromas wafting from them, did nothing to soothe the knots twisting tighter in my stomach. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat a bite, no matter how tempting it looked.
As soon as she left, I took a moment to compose myself, still trying to digest Maxwell’s words. They only gave credence to what I’d believed all along.
“I guess my mom and I weren’t good enough for you to be a better man.”
Maxwell’s face fell slack, stripped of its usual poise. “That’s not true. My actions are not a reflection of you or Roxanne. They are a reflection of me. I should have been man enough to stand up to my parents. But the truth of the matter is, I wasn’t ready for your mom, or for you, and I took the coward’s way out.
“I am sorry, Brooke. If I could get back all the time we lost together, I would. When I saw you for the first time this summer, the full force of what I’d done and missed out on hit me. You were just as beautiful and full of life as I imagined you would be all these years.”
While his words were pretty, they didn’t persuade me. “Yet you still didn’t tell me who you were.”
“No. I didn’t.” Maxwell’s shoulders rose and fell dramatically. “Like I said, lies breed lies. I’d already disappointed your mom and you. I didn’t want to devastate Camila and Lola too.”
“Is that why you tried to get rid of me? Send me away?”
“No.” He shook his head vehemently. “It was my foolish way of trying to make up for not being there for you.”
“It felt a lot like buying me off ... again.”
Maxwell hung his head. “I can see how you would feel that way. For that and much, much more, I am sorry. But just so you know, Sidney Harper is still interested in speaking to you. It disappointed him when you canceled your interview. Of course, he understands why after I explained the situation to him,” Maxwell quickly interjected. “All the same, he says he hasn’t seen talent like yours in a long time.”
“Really?” I said before I could stop myself. “I mean—I don’t believe you.”
Logan chuckled next to me.
Even Maxwell’s lips twitched, but given the circumstances, he held back his smile. “He’s not wrong, Brooke. You are talented and passionate like your mother,” he said fondly. “I know I have no right to tell you what she would think. I can hear her telling me right now to shut the hell up. But I have to believe that she would tell you to at least talk to him.”
I turned to Logan to see what he thought about it. Florida was one thing when I thought this was a fling, but this was no fling. This was the real deal.
“You need to follow your dreams. We’ll work things out together,” Logan assured me before I even said a word.
I loved that so much, but I wondered if Maxwell had read my mind when he added, “Sidney knows that you may not wish to move. He has some remote possibilities in mind.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, a small wave of relief washing over me. I wasn’t sure I wanted my dreams to lead somewhere other than Aspen Lake. Weird, huh? The place just didn’t seem finished with me yet.
“He does?” I turned slowly to face Maxwell, trying not to sound too excited.
Maxwell offered me the first sincere smile I think I’d ever seen from him. “Yes,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “Like I said, he sees your potential, Brooke, and he doesn’t want to miss out on it. He’s a smarter man than I am.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, though the bite in my tone had dropped significantly. And not just because of the potential new job. “So, where does this leave us?”
I felt like there was no point in dragging this conversation out. Nothing he could say was going to change the past or even make me feel better about it. Acknowledging that fact actually gave me some peace. But now, a connection existed between us, whether we liked it or not. My mother had made sure of it. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook again. Not that she ever had. She’d simply bided her time.
Maxwell leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes searching mine for the right words to say. “Brooke,” he said carefully, even affectionately. “I know I can’t undo the past. There is no making up for what I did and didn’t do. But ...,” he paused. “I would do anything to have a future with you in it.” His voice broke off.
And dang it if that didn’t make my eyes sting, but I refused to let them reveal any sort of sheen. “I’m going to have to think about that.” And believe me, there would be lots of thoughts. It was going to be a WWE wrestling match of the mind. I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be or what the winning situation would look like. Was there one?
“Of course.” Maxwell sounded relieved I would even consider it.
“I’m mostly thinking of Lola here,” I added.
He gave me an understanding nod. “You have your mother’s fire.”
“Did you ever love her?” I had to ask.
“You probably won’t believe this, but yes,” he didn’t hesitate to say. “It was impossible not to love her. I wish you would’ve had the chance to see her onstage while she worked a crowd.”
I would have loved that so much.
“Everyone loved her, and truthfully, that was hard for me,” he admitted. “My ego at the time couldn’t take it. And my parents didn’t understand her or what they believed to be my passing fascination with an incredibly beautiful and talented woman. I made regrettable choices because of it. At the very least, I should have made sure I was involved in your life. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d like to be involved now. Camila would too.”
I found myself believing him. What he said about my mom rang true. I’d seen it with my own eyes, the way people gravitated toward her. And she wouldn’t let you not love her. But still ... it didn’t excuse Maxwell. Nor was I ready to sing “Kumbaya” with him. However ...
“Camila is a definite yes.” I grinned.
He offered me a muted smile.
“Well.” I clapped my hands together, feeling exhausted but also lighter. I’d faced my father. Sure, I had decisions to make about him, but that was going to take some major soul-searching. “I don’t know about you boys, but I’m hungry. And now I want dessert.”
“You got it.” Logan kissed my head before he stood. “Should I just order the entire dessert menu?”
Seriously, he was going to do me in. He was the best. “I’m so going to kiss your face off later.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He winked and walked off, leaving me with Maxwell.
“I like that kid,” Maxwell commented. “I’m happy to see you two are working things out.”
That made two of us. “Me too. I hear you had a little something to do with that. Thank you,” I said reluctantly.
“No thanks are necessary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt my daughter . I figured you’d had enough of that.”
Crap. I couldn’t keep my stinging eyes at bay, and a sheen of moisture appeared. “I’m not ready to like you, Maxwell.”
“I’d be disappointed if you were. You wouldn’t be Roxanne’s daughter. Our daughter,” he breathed out.
I wiped a few errant tears off my cheeks. “Maybe someday you can tell me more about your time together. No promises, but, you know, it’s a possibility I might want you to.”
“I would love that ... when you’re ready, of course.”
I wasn’t sure when that would be, but I did know life was full of surprises. And I had a sneaking feeling Maxwell might just be one of them—that perhaps he was the man my mom thought he was. Time would tell.