Chapter Twenty-Six
MICHAEL
That was anything but a children's party.
First, because I could count on one hand the number of children there. Despite the children's-themed decoration, looking around gave me the impression that I was at some charity party organized by elderly millionaires.
“There are only old people around here,” my mother complained as soon as we both arrived together.
As Alice's paternal grandmother, she had also been invited. Even if it was against the hosts' wishes.
We arrived so early that not even the birthday girl had arrived. And I was in a state of anxiety to see her.
Right at the entrance, some photographers asked us to pose for a photo.
I knew that only one of them was hired by the family; the others were members of the press, covering the famous first birthday party of the Harris granddaughter and daughter of Michael Turner, the little heiress of two considerable fortunes.
Apparently, events with millionaires still generated a lot of views for websites and social media profiles of various media outlets specialized in that type of 'news'.
After smiling at the shower of flashes fired in our direction, my mother and I were guided by a receptionist to the table reserved for us, and my mother added, “I think Margaret and Caleb thought it was a party for old people like them...”
“Mom, you're the same age as them.”
“Of course not. I'm much younger than those two.”
In fact, my mother was the same age as Caleb and three years older than Margaret. But I decided not to comment on that.
Sebastian had texted me earlier, saying they wouldn't be coming because Bonnie wasn't feeling well. And I wanted to believe that was just an excuse for them not to show up and not the reality. I really hoped my sister-in-law would recover soon.
As for Logan, I honestly didn't expect him to be there. So, it was a huge surprise to see him arrive.
He also stopped to be photographed, and it was funny how uncomfortable he always seemed to be about it. Out of the three of us, my middle brother was the one who dealt the worst with the celebrity status we had practically had since we were born.
“"Oh, my dear... it's so good to see you!" my mother said, getting up to hug my brother.
I noticed more camera flashes going off above us and felt uneasy about the fact that even a simple family reunion had become fodder for the media.
"Hi, Mom. And hey, Mike. Who would’ve thought I’d ever be attending a birthday party for one of your kids?"
We exchanged a light pat on the back, and he sat down next to me. Only then did I reply, “Which part is more amazing? Me having a daughter or you coming to some family event?”
“You having children, of course. I'm looking forward to meeting little Alice.”
“If those old jerks decide to come and bring her with them...” my mother replied, making the anger she felt towards my daughter's maternal grandparents even more evident.
Then, she returned to focusing on Logan.
“But Michael is right, dear. We hardly ever see you. Are you okay? You seem thinner, have you been eating properly?”
Logan didn't look any thinner. He looked exactly the same as he always did.
Of the three children, he was the one who physically resembled our mother the most. He had the same facial features and the same blue eyes (Sebastian also had the latter). The only difference was the color of his hair, dark brown like mine and our late father's.
While he answered our mother — as always, talking about the hectic pace of his work at a big hospital in Los Angeles — I turned my focus back to the entrance of the hall, because it wasn’t just Alice I was waiting for.
After a few minutes, as if reading my thoughts, my mother commented, “Why didn’t you pick Camila up at home?"
"She asked me to come ahead and meet her here directly. She’s coming straight from work."
My mother gave me a horrified look.
"You made your own fiancée work on a Saturday, Michael?"
"No, Mom. It’s not at the office. On Saturdays she helps her grandmother at the family bookstore."
"Your girl owns a bookstore?" Logan asked.
My mother was quick to respond. She really seemed delighted with everything that had to do with Camila.
“It’s her grandmother’s, actually, but she told me that Camila helps her a lot. She’s such a hard-working girl. You need to meet her, son.”
“Seriously?” Logan looked incredulous. “Hard-working? What an opposition to Mike.”
“Hey!” I grumbled.
“Wow, you wouldn’t believe it!” my mother agreed. “I swear I don't know how that intelligent and hard-working girl saw anything in Michael.”
“I'm right here!” I said.
My mother, however, continued, “He’s gorgeous, of course. All three of you are. But we know he doesn’t want anything to do with life. Camila, on the other hand, is so focused. She looks a lot more like you, Logan.”
“Besides insulting me, now you're also going to offer my bride to my brother? Because Camila has absolutely nothing to do with him.”
They both laughed and I wondered what was funny about that, until Logan put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Who would have thought, he's really in love. He's even jealous of a simple comment.”
Jealous? Me? Especially of something silly like a comment like that?
He was clearly wrong.
“Camila is a great girl,” my mother said again. “Being jealous is good, it spices up the relationship. But don't go overboard like your father did, okay?”
My first impulse was to immediately respond that I would not be like my father in any way. However, I quickly corrected myself mentally, reminding myself that it was irrelevant. Because Camila and I were not really together. Our marriage would never even come to fruition.
For some reason, thinking about it gave me a strange feeling, like a lump had formed in my stomach.
The sound of children's laughter caught our attention, and we turned our eyes to a small playground where half a dozen kids were playing.
A little girl, about three years old, was climbing the stairs of a slide by herself and struck a brave pose when she reached the top, even though it was a small slide, perfectly suited to her size.
It made me smile, thinking about how much I wanted to teach those little things to Alice.
My little girl had lost her mother when she was still so young.
The little time I spent with Leah didn't give me much of an idea of whether she would have been a good mother or not. But, of course, that didn’t mean much.
If Leah had known me better back then, she would have been sure I had all the potential to be a terrible father.
But knowing about Alice changed me, and it probably had changed Leah too.
One thing I was sure of, though, from just a few exchanged emails: Leah loved her daughter and wanted her to have a father.
I would be that father. Nothing would stop me from that.
“Sorry, brother, but I have to go,” Logan declared.
I turned to him, seeing that he had his cell phone in his hand and was starting to get up.
“What do you mean? You haven’t even met Alice or Camila yet,” I replied.
“I'm sorry, Mike. It's from the hospital. One of my patients has had a relapse and is going to need emergency surgery, and I need to be there.”
“Isn't there another doctor who can do this?”
“It's complicated, brother. I promise there will be plenty of opportunities for me to meet your fiancée and my niece.”
“Maybe before her college graduation...” I replied.
But he pretended not to hear and, after giving my mother a kiss on the cheek and another pat on my back, he left. We should have been used to the fact that Logan never had time for his family.
I looked back at the children who were still playing, thinking that I didn't want to be like Logan... like our father used to be.
“Son...” my mother's voice reached my ears, but I kept looking at the children. “I never had false modesty, and I always thought that you could find pretty girls, but never any who were as beautiful as you. But I guess I was wrong, right?”
I turned my face towards her and noticed that she kept her eyes fixed on the entrance of the mansion. I turned towards it, understanding where that comment had come from.
And... Holy shit !
'Beautiful' would be a simple word to describe Camila. Especially at that moment, wearing a black dress with lace straps and her red hair tied in an elegant bun, with a few loose strands falling over her face covered in light makeup.
I couldn't take my eyes off her, completely spellbound and, to be honest, overcome with a crazy lust. I had a sudden urge to pull her out of that party and take her to my house, to my bed.
Of course, that unfortunately wouldn't be an option for me.