Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
HARLOW
“Mom, Robert, why are you back so early? We weren’t expecting you home until next week,” I say, stepping into the living room, avoiding Sterling’s gaze altogether as I greet my mother with a kiss to her cheek before stepping back. I reach for my hair, tucking the wayward strands behind my ear, praying that I don’t look like I’ve just had the best orgasm of my life.
“If you’d bothered to listen to the messages I left you, you’d know that a storm was about to hit our resort so we decided to come home a little earlier,” she snaps back as I flick my gaze to Robert who gives me a tight smile. Fuck, he looks pissed-off.
“Oh… I’m sorry. I was meaning to call you back but I’ve been a little busy.”
“Too busy to take your mother’s calls?” she retorts, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at me. “It could’ve been an emergency, Harlow! If we’d stayed it most certainly would’ve been!”
“It’s my fault. I’ve been showing Harlow around Princetown,” Sterling interjects, unruffled by the lie that slips off his tongue with ease.
How can he be so calm? It was only moments ago that he had his head between my legs. If we hadn’t heard them… God, I can’t even think about what could’ve happened.
“Is that so?” Robert asks, looking between us, an unreadable expression on his face before he turns his attention back to Sterling. “Did you take Harlow to the engagement party too?”
“No. I didn’t go,” I say, shaking my head.
“I see,” Robert replies, and I can’t tell whether he’s happy about that or not.
“I didn’t feel up for it, headache,” I mumble.
“You could’ve made an effort and shown your face,” my mother says with a huff. “What will people think? That’s terribly rude, Harlow.”
“How can it be rude not attending an engagement party that I wasn’t even invited to?” I retort, anger unfurling in my chest.
“Of course you were invited,” Robert says, glaring at Sterling as though it’s his fault.
“No,” I shake my head, hating that he assumes Sterling is at fault. “Mom called me a few nights ago to tell me all about Daisy and Dalton’s engagement party and wedding, and the fact that I hadn’t been invited.”
Robert scowls. “Melody, is this true?”
My mother visibly blanches. “Harlow must have misunderstood. That isn’t what I said at all.”
No, of course it wasn’t.
I bite back my retort and push down my disappointment, not wanting to start an argument. All I want to do is have a shower and go to bed. I can’t deal with my mother right now, and I certainly don’t think that I can stay in this room a moment longer trying to pretend that Sterling didn’t just eat me out on top of the baby grand piano whilst I screamed out his name.
“Harlow?” Robert insists.
“Mom called in the middle of the night. I must have misheard because I was so tired,” I lie.
“Exactly,” my mother says, her shoulders dropping with relief.
“Besides, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been missed.”
Sterling opens his mouth as though to say something, but then changes his mind. Instead his mouth snaps shut and he throws me a heated look. My cheeks warm from the tension between us, at the way Sterling then glares at my mother. I told him what she’d said, and he believed me. Right now he looks like he’s about to call her out on her lie.
“It’s getting late, and I still have a headache. Would you mind if we catch up in the morning?” I quickly ask, hoping that everyone will decide to go to bed too.
My mother waves her hand in the air. “Yes, that’s fine. I’m rather tired from all the travelling anyway.” She turns her attention to Robert. “Darling, are you coming?”
“In a moment, there’s something I need to discuss with Sterling,” he says, leaning over and pressing a kiss against her cheek. “I’ll follow shortly.”
“Very well,” she replies, striding past me without so much as a look, let alone wishing me a goodnight.
I watch her leave, suddenly feeling like I should stay. I don’t like the way Robert is glaring at Sterling. Is he always this frosty towards him? Sterling had told me as much, but this is the first time I’ve truly experienced it, and it’s horrible.
“Did you enjoy your honeymoon?” I ask Robert, trying to temper the growing tension and draw his attention towards me and away from Sterling.
“It was lovely, thank you for asking, Harlow,” he replies, his gaze softening as he looks at me.
“I’m glad.”
“However, I do really need to speak with Sterling…”
His voice trails off as he gives me a pointed look, and I know when I’m being dismissed. Even so, I cast a look at Sterling for any kind of sign that he wants me to stay, because despite feeling out of sorts, I will pull myself together so that he doesn’t have to face his father alone. Besides, unless Robert is able to read our minds, there’s no way he’s aware of what’s transpired between us. At least I hope not.
“Sterling?” I question, noticing a muscle feathering in his jaw.
“Goodnight, Harlow,” he retorts, turning away from me and striding over to the bar in the corner of the room, dismissing me as well.
Sterling
Knocking back the generous glass of bourbon, I wait for my father to tell me what’s on his mind, because I sure as fuck am not about to open the conversation and give him any ammunition to use against me. I know him too well—he’s the type of person who waits for someone to hand him the rope, then stands back and lets them hang themselves with it.
“You’ve gotten over yourself then, I take it?” he asks, picking up the bottle of bourbon and pouring himself a glass as he eyes me with a neutral expression. I don’t trust his intentions, not one fucking bit.
“If by gotten over myself you mean accepting Harlow into this family, then yes, I guess I have,” I reply evenly, refusing to rise to the bait.
He nods, swilling his bourbon before taking a sip. His expression relaxes, and to the untrained eye you’d be fooled into thinking he was content with my answer under the guise of wanting a happy family. But I know better. The subtle tightening around his eyes, the way his jaw ticks just slightly—it’s all there, a carefully masked tension that warns me to tread carefully.
“I didn’t expect you to still be here. Why haven’t you returned to New York?” he asks, changing tactics.
“One of my closest friends is getting married in a few weeks. What would be the point?” I throw back. It’s the best excuse I have, and it’s the one I’m sticking with because I’m not about to tell him the real reason I’m staying. Not yet, anyway. He’s not the only one who can play this game.
“Are you going back?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“I see.”
The sheer fact that he doesn’t push the subject has me on high alert. This conversation isn’t about me returning to New York, this is about something else entirely. I wait, refusing to give him any rope to hang me with.
“So, Harlow…”
And there it is.
“What about her?” I ask, forcing myself not to react in any way.
“You didn’t take her to the engagement party, why?” It’s a loaded question, and we both know it. My father isn’t a fool, he could tell something is up between us, but right now he isn’t entirely sure what.
“She had a headache,” I shrug, backing up her lie. “I wasn’t going to force her when she was feeling unwell.”
“Hmm,” he mutters, taking a sip of his bourbon as he eyes me over the rim. “No hidden agenda?”
I didn’t think he’d be so bold, but here we are. So, how do I play this? I could keep pretending that I’m okay with her being family or I could turn this discussion to my advantage, and throw him off track, which happens to play nicely into my plan because what Harlow needs most is time . Time to get to know me better, time to strengthen our bond, to become a united front, and if my dad thinks for one second that we like each other more than step-siblings should, he’ll do everything in his power to end it, and destroy us both in the process.
I grit my jaw, allowing anger to seep into my features, pretending to snap. “I spent the whole fucking day with her yesterday, playing happy-fucking-families. Do you honestly think I’d want to take her to an engagement party too?” He lifts a brow, and I can tell he’s not quite convinced so I add a nail to the coffin, hoping to fuck he buys it. “Mum called, she asked me to play nice. Though God knows why given you’ve treated her like shit and none of this bullshit has been easy on her. So, I played nice for Mum . But if you think I’m going to accept Harlow as my fucking step-sister, let alone Melody as a stand in for mum, you can think again. That’s the first and last time I’m making an effort.”
“I should’ve known your mother was involved. You’ve always been a mama’s boy .”
“It’s a damn sight better than following in your footsteps,” I throw back, allowing the familiar feelings of hate and disgust to seep into my voice. “Besides, I’m not the one with a hidden agenda.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he bites, his mask slipping as he takes the bait.
“Why did you marry Melody?”
“Because I’m in love with her. That’s what two people tend to do when they’re in love.”
I can’t help it, I scoff. “Oh come on, we both know you’re incapable.”
He slams his glass onto the bar. “You’ll do well not to antagonise me, son.”
“What’s your angle?” I push, cocking my head to the side. “It can’t be Melody’s money, given you have plenty of your own. Is it the status you’d gain from marrying a Hollywood starlet?” He opens his mouth to respond, but I hold my hand up, silencing him. “No, wait, it can’t be that given nothing is comparable to what you’ve achieved in life. I mean, I could be invited to paint the Cistine-fucking-Chapel and that still wouldn’t be good enough in your eyes, so I can’t imagine starring in some two-bit nineties TV series would warrant your approval.”
“Firstly, Melody’s talent can hardly be compared to your…” He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “... Sickness .”
I grit my teeth, feeling the sharp slice of pain I always do when he belittles me. I hate that he’s still so easily able to hurt me, but I allow it because it only feeds into the lie I’m creating to protect me and Harlow.
He smirks. “And secondly, she’s Hollywood royalty, not some wannabe artist who doesn’t have the balls to showcase his work because he knows that the only person who’d buy it is his mother .”
Fuck. Him.
“Are we done?” I snap.
“For now,” he replies, smirking.
I stride towards the door but as I reach it, he calls out to me.
“One last thing, son,” he says.
“What?” I reply, throwing him a glare over my shoulder.
“Whilst you’re living under my roof, you will give Melody and Harlow the respect they deserve, you will treat them both with kindness, you will fucking act with grace and charm whenever you’re around them, and you will spend time with Harlow playing happy-fucking-families whenever the fuck I tell you to.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then your precious mother will find out what it’s like to live as a fucking pauper when I stop paying her the rather generous monthly allowance she’s become accustomed to.”
My shoulders stiffen, and whilst his demands have given me the ability to spend time with Harlow without it throwing up any red flags, I don’t like the fact that he’s threatening my mother’s happiness by taking away the money she’s owed from marrying such a cold-hearted bastard. A knot tightens in my stomach, and I feel the weight of his words settling like lead in my chest. I’ve been walking this tightrope for years, always caught between loyalty to my mother and the disdain I have for him.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
His eyes narrow, studying me. “Just remember I will hit you where it hurts the most if you don’t do as I fucking say. By refusing me, your mother suffers. All I want is peace in my house, and if this is the only way I’m going to get it, then so be it.”
I nod, trying to ignore the simmering fury inside. Peace ? This is nothing more than control, and he’s not going to stop until he has it all. What he fails to realise is that neither will I, and more importantly, he has played right into my hands.