Chapter 39
GRACE
The month that followed was a whirlwind. Press interviews, photo shoots, promotional events—all the standard stuff that came with a major studio release. But this time, everything was different. This time, I had Micah by my side.
We didn’t hide anymore. We answered questions about our relationship with honesty but we gave nothing away.
It was still our private life. We weren’t going to divulge all the dirty details.
If I’d learned anything about this business, it was Hollywood romances were extremely hard and made harder if you let the public in too much.
Some people were supportive. Others were skeptical. The tabloids continued to speculate about whether I’d actually earned my role or slept my way into it.
That wasn’t my problem. We knew what we had. We knew we loved each other and that’s all that mattered.
I found myself standing in front of my bathroom mirror on a Saturday evening, trying to decide if my outfit was right. It was the first time I’d be meeting his family.
My bedroom looked like my closet exploded. I tried on just about everything I had. I knew I was overthinking it, but it was one of the most important meetings of my life.
I loved Micah. I knew the family feud was an issue. I would be walking into the dinner at his parents’ house already tainted with my father’s name.
I ended up putting on the blue dress that reminded me of something the Princess of Wales would wear. That worked for me.
Micah arrived right on time.
“You look beautiful,” Micah said.
“Too much?” I asked. “Not enough.”
“You’re stunning.”
“I’m meeting your father,” I said. “Max Blackwell.”
“I’m aware of who he is.”
“The man who spent thirty years hating my father. The man who warned you about getting involved with a Sterling. Your father. His house.”
“It’s not a lair,” he teased.
“Not funny.”
He looked impossibly handsome in dark slacks and a fitted button-down, his hair artfully tousled in that way that made my fingers itch to run through it. God, I had such a weird obsession with his hair. I loved tangling my fingers in it.
He kissed me softly. “Ready?”
“No.”
He laughed. “You’ll be fine. They’re going to love you.”
“Easy for you to say. They’re your family.”
“And soon they’ll be yours too.” He took my hand and squeezed. “Trust me.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But as we walked to his car and started the drive to his parents’ house, the anxiety kept building.
“What if they hate me?” I asked.
“They won’t.”
“But what if they do? What if your father takes one look at me and sees my father? What if he spends the whole dinner making passive-aggressive comments about the Sterling family? I’m not going try and convince them my father is a saint, but he is my father.”
Micah reached over and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “We had a long talk. A really long one.”
“And?”
“He knows to behave.” Micah glanced at me, his expression softening. “He also knows you’re not your father. I made that very clear.”
“How did you make it clear?”
“I told him about you. You’re nothing like the person he’s been imagining all these years.”
I felt tears prick at my eyes. “You did?”
He squeezed my hand. “I told him you make me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. And that if he wanted to be part of my life going forward, he needed to give you a real chance.”
“Micah, that’s so sweet.”
He chuckled. “Sweet isn’t what I was going for. Just honest.”
“And what did he say?”
“He agreed. Grudgingly at first, but he agreed.” He smiled. “My father is a lot of things, but he loves his sons. He’s not going to risk losing me over a decades-old grudge.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek, overwhelmed by how much this man loved me. How much he was willing to fight for us.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Always.”
The Blackwell estate was exactly what I’d expected—sprawling, elegant, and intimidating as hell.
We pulled through iron gates and up a winding driveway lined with perfectly manicured hedges.
The house itself was stunning. House wasn’t the right word.
My father’s estate was huge, but this was definitely in mega-mansion territory.
“This is where you grew up?” I asked, staring up at the place.
“Yes.”
“This is surreal.”
He laughed and parked the car. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
We walked up the front steps hand in hand. The door opened and there she was.
Tiana Blackwell.
I’d seen her in movies, of course. Everyone had.
She’d been one of the biggest stars of her generation.
And mine. She had talent and presence. She’d redefined what leading ladies could be.
I’d grown up watching her films, studying her performances, trying to understand how she made everything look so effortless.
She was one of my idols. Had been since I was twelve years old, sneaking into my father’s screening room to watch her early work.
And now she was standing in front of me, even more beautiful in person than she’d been on screen. Her hair was swept back in an elegant twist. Her smile was genuine in a way that immediately put me at ease.
I didn’t get starstruck. I’d grown up in Hollywood, surrounded by famous people. I’d learned early that celebrities were just people with better lighting and usually shittier personalities.
This wasn’t just any celebrity. This was Tiana Blackwell—the mother of the man I loved. Oh and she just happened to be one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the silver screen. Someone who possessed more grace in her pinky finger than I had in my entire body.
Pun intended.
“You must be Grace,” Tiana said, and even her voice was exactly as I remembered it from her films. Rich. Musical.
I felt like I should curtsy.
“Mrs. Blackwell, it’s such an honor?—”
Before I could finish, she pulled me into a hug. Not a Hollywood air-kiss hug, but a real one. Warm and tight and genuine. Now I understood why Micah was such a good hugger. It was a family trait.
“None of that Mrs. Blackwell nonsense,” she said, pulling back but keeping her hands on my shoulders. “Call me Tiana. And welcome. Micah has told us so much about you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
“The best things.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ve seen some of the early footage from Breathless. You’re extraordinary, Grace. Truly. I cannot wait to see it on the big screen.”
I felt my cheeks flush. A compliment from Tiana Blackwell about my acting. I might actually die. It was only then I realized she would be watching my work like I’d watched her so many times.
God, I was going to pass out.
“Thank you,” I managed. “That means more than you know.”
“Mom, stop hogging her.” Micah stepped forward to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Where’s Dad?”
“In the study with your brothers. They’re pretending to discuss business, but really they’re just hiding from the kitchen chaos.”
Tiana rolled her eyes affectionately. “You know how your father gets when I’m directing the caterers.”
She led us inside. I tried not to gawk at the gorgeous interior. High ceilings, tasteful artwork, understated elegance that only came from having both unlimited funds and impeccable taste.
We found the men in a study. Max Blackwell stood as we entered. He was tall, distinguished, with the kind of commanding presence that explained how he’d built an empire. His hair had gone silver at the temples, but his eyes were sharp and assessing as they landed on me.
I held my breath.
He crossed the room and extended his hand. “Grace. It’s nice to finally meet you properly.”
I shook it, noting the firm grip and the directness of his gaze.
“Thank you for having me, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Max, please.” He studied me for a moment, and I could see him cataloging details, forming opinions. Then, unexpectedly, his face softened into something that might have been a smile. “It seems you got your charm from your mother. Naomi was always the more pleasant of your parents.”
The room went silent for a beat.
Then everyone laughed. Including me, though mine was mostly relief.
“You know my mother?” I asked.
“We crossed paths a few times over the years. She was always gracious, even when your father was being…” He paused, searching for the diplomatic word. “Difficult.”
“That’s a generous description.”
Max chuckled. “I’m trying to be on my best behavior. Micah made me promise.”
I glanced at Micah, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed anxiety. I reached over and squeezed his hand, letting him know it was okay. Better than okay.
“I appreciate that,” I said to Max. “And for what it’s worth, I’m not here to defend my father. Whatever happened between you guys, that’s between you and him. I’m just here because I love your son.”
Max’s eyebrows rose slightly. He exchanged a look with Tiana, some silent communication passing between them.
“Well,” he said finally. “That’s refreshingly honest.”
“Grace doesn’t know how to be anything else,” Micah said, slipping his arm around my waist. “It’s one of the things I love about her.”
The tension in the room dissolved. Someone handed me a glass of wine, and suddenly I was being introduced to Beau, Micah’s younger brother.
“The entertainment lawyer,” Beau said, shaking my hand with a grin that was pure charm. “I handle all the boring contract stuff so these creative types can focus on their art.”
“Boring?” I raised an eyebrow. “From what I hear, entertainment law is anything but boring. Half the drama in Hollywood happens in negotiation rooms.”
Beau’s grin widened. “I like her already. She gets it.”
Dinner was served in a dining room with views of the city sprawling below us. The food was incredible—some fusion of Mediterranean and California cuisine that melted on my tongue. But more than the food, I was struck by the conversation.
The Blackwells were loud. Passionate. They interrupted each other constantly, argued about everything from the best place to vacation to favorite foods. It was chaos, but the good kind. It was so different from the formal, tense dinners of my childhood.
“You’re quiet,” Tiana observed, catching my eye across the table. “Everything okay?”
“More than okay,” I said honestly. “I’m just taking it all in. My family dinners were never like this.”
“Like what?”
“Fun.”
Another round of laughter. Even Max cracked a genuine smile.
As the evening wound down and we moved to the living room for coffee and dessert, I found myself just taking it all in. They were a lot. I thought about more meals with them. Holidays. Movie premieres.
Tiana sat next to me, her hand patting my knee. “Welcome to the family, Grace. For what it’s worth, you’ve got my blessing.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s a keeper,” Max said.