Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I tapped my fingers along the counter of the Bayview Hotel’s front desk, trying to tell myself that even though I felt horribly out of place, I didn’t look it. The denim jeans I wore were a looser fit than I was used to—apparently, according to Destelle, tight-fitting jeans were out . While my suit pants never usually were that tight, it did feel strange to walk in a pair of wide-legged pants that my legs had so much room in.
Or maybe it was the fact that they were denim jeans to begin with, since I probably hadn’t worn a pair since childhood.
The T-shirt I wore had a logo of a band I didn’t recognize on it, and Destelle had tied it into a knot at my stomach. “Maybe it’s time you discover a new style,” she’d said helpfully. “Maybe this could be your new thing!”
It was not. And I had a new note to self: Destelle was no longer allowed to dress me.
But she did buy the clothes, so I shouldn’t have been complaining.
“Ma’am,” the lady at the front desk said to me, drawing my attention back. It was strange to be regarded the way she looked at me now. There was no discomfort or fear in her gaze like the staff at Massey Suites always wore. There was no goo in her eyes of someone who needed to impress a woman in a fancy suit. No, to her, I was just some random young adult who’d waltzed into the lobby, dressed like a college kid after a night of studying. “If you don’t have a room number, I’m afraid I can’t place a call for you.”
“I know his name. Sumner Pennington. That’s not enough for you to look through the system?”
“Do you have a phone number the booking would be under?”
I’d left my phone back at Nancy’s since I didn’t have service to place any calls. “No.”
“A birthdate?”
I blinked. I truly didn’t know Sumner’s birthday? “No.”
The lady gave me an awkward smile. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. Company policy.”
What I should’ve done, in hindsight, was grab Sumner’s number off my phone and use Destelle’s to text him. It didn’t occur to me until now, with Ms. Gatekeeper over here, and Destelle had already left. “ You’ve got this ,” she’d said right before I shut the passenger door.
I did not, in fact, have this.
“What about Aaron Astor?” It was lame that I knew his birthday and not Sumner’s, but I’d had longer to bounce it around in my head.
She began typing on her computer. “There’s no listing under Aaron Astor.”
“What about Vivienne Astor? Malcolm Astor? ”
The lady’s expression was already knowing when she asked, “Do you have a birthdate for them?”
I closed my eyes, fighting for patience.
“Margot?”
I turned to find Vivienne Astor coming in from the revolving doors of the hotel, and she pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head when she saw me. She, too, wore denim jeans, though hers weren’t as loose-fitting as my own. It made me feel slightly better, though. “Hi, Mrs. Astor.”
“What—what are you doing here?” Her voice was shocked, though not unkind. “Are you here to see Aaron?”
“Sumner, actually.” I tried not to let myself feel awkward, but it was hard to force any sort of confidence into my voice. “I heard he was here.”
Vivienne glanced at the lady at the front desk, as if gauging the situation. “Would you like to come up with me? I can show you to his room.”
That hadn’t been in my plan. We weren’t supposed to have this conversation in his hotel room, but outside. We could’ve walked down to the bay, or gotten coffee—anywhere where there’d be other things to focus on than each other. That was probably my stick-your-head-in-the-sand self talking. “That’d… be great.”
I walked slightly in Vivienne’s shadow as we headed to the elevators, my hands clasped in front of me like I was a kid walking toward detention. With each step, my heart drummed faster and faster in my chest, both at the anticipation of seeing Sumner and being trapped in an elevator with my ex almost mother-in-law.
And, of course, we had to wait for the elevator to arrive to the ground floor. “I’m sorry for my son’s behavior,” she said, and her expression was genuinely remorseful. It glimmered in her eyes. “It isn’t okay in the slightest.”
“Seems like a hassle, doesn’t it?” I agreed, rocking back on my heels. “He could’ve just called me and asked me himself.”
“I’ve always known he’s had a confidence issue, but I never thought he’d send someone to feed information about you.” She bit her bottom lip. “I thought I raised him better than that.”
“Everyone makes their own choices,” I said as the elevator dinged. “No matter how they’re raised.”
My parents raised me to be a good mindless soldier, but it hadn’t worked in their favor.
A mother and her young children stepped off the elevator before we stepped on, sealed in a tiny space. It made me feel even more tense. “Last night,” she began, looking at me from the corner of her eye. “It definitely will go down in history, won’t it?”
I winced. “I’m embarrassed that I did what I did.”
“Then that makes two of us—embarrassed of our own actions.” Vivienne chuckled a little. “I shouldn’t have berated your parents the way I did, not when it was my own son who initiated this mess.”
“They deserved it,” I answered without missing a beat. “My parents, I mean.”
There was another awkward lull in the conversation as we both weighed our words. Vivienne pulled her purse from her side around so she could rifle through it, withdrawing a business card. “I hope you know that, if you ever need anything, I’m here for you. It might not have worked out with Aaron, but… Well. I do feel fond of you, Margot. I want to see you do good things.”
Her golden embossed name glittered in the dull elevator light, and I studied it for a moment, her words washing over me.
“And I happen to know a few designers in New York, if you ever decide to pursue fashion. I know they’d love to meet you.” Her eyes trailed my attire. “If that’s still something you’re interested in.”
“Please don’t let this trainwreck fool you; I definitely am still interested in fashion.”
We both smiled at each other, and I was shocked to find how easy it came to my lips now, how genuine it felt. How good.
The elevator stopped at the top floor, and Vivienne told me that Sumner’s room number was 608 at the end of the hall. Their room was 620, on the opposite end, and we went our separate directions then. I tucked her business card into my pocket, knowing that I’d keep it close.
I stopped before room 608, staring at the number plaque on the surface. The thought of knocking seemed impossible; my hand was made of lead at my side. My nervousness didn’t make so much sense—out of either of us, Sumner, surely, should’ve been the anxious one. He was the one who had to tell me his story. All I had to do was listen.
And that was why I wanted to go back to the elevator, go back to the lobby, and straight out the revolving doors.
Before I had a chance to run, though, the door ripped inward, revealing Sumner with his phone and wallet in hand. He had been rushing to leave his room, it seemed, because he nearly walked straight into me before he froze, his gaze rising from his phone screen.
We both held perfectly still. I broke the ice first. “Hi.”
I didn’t know why I was expecting Sumner to look different, but of course he didn’t. Of course he wasn’t decked out in designer items, with his hair slicked back in the way Aaron’s was. He wore the same jeans he’d worn the first time we went out to eat together, with the hole on his knee. His shirt was a deep navy, simple and loose on his frame. He still had the same bright blue eyes I’d looked into the day prior, still wore his hair ungelled. He was still Sumner.
“I—I’ve been calling you,” he stuttered out, reminding me, again, of the first time we met. He’d been just as nervous when I’d approached him then, swiping up the champagne flute from his tray. “All night and morning. I?—”
“My parents cut off my phone service.” It felt wrong standing before him in an outfit that cost twenty dollars, so much so that I had to actively hold myself back from fidgeting. I looked past him into his hotel room. “I’m ready to hear you out now.”
Sumner all but flung himself out of the way. “Yes, please—please come in.”
The room wasn’t a suite, with his bed in plain sight the second I walked through the door. I tried not to look at it, but there weren’t many options for seating. There was the mattress or a velvet chair in the corner.
“Are you okay?” Sumner asked as the door swung shut. He looked at me with that same stormy look in his eye. “By the time I heard about what happened last night, you were already escorted off the property. I figured you went to Nancy’s, but I couldn’t remember the way there. I used Aaron’s car and drove all night, but I?—”
“I’m not going anywhere now,” I told him, moving to slip my hands into my pants pockets before I remembered I was wearing jeans. “You don’t have to talk so fast.”
An awkward smile lifted the corners of his mouth, just a tiny bit as he sat down in the velvet chair, turning it to face me fully. “Sorry… sorry.”
I thought about Sumner driving around in the dark, searching the hilly roads for Nancy’s driveway, a twinge aching in my chest. “You were trying to come to Nancy’s when I told you I needed time?”
“I was afraid of you being alone.”
It was a good response. It was a Sumner response.
I rubbed my palms across the knees of my jeans, trying to think of how to jump into such a serious conversation. the weight of it loomed over us, and if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to have it. I wanted to push past it, to pretend Aaron Astor never even existed, pretend that Sumner wasn’t a part of any scheme Aaron dreamed up.
I was going into this meeting with a mental list, things I needed to check off. I didn’t want to get my hopes high, but I couldn’t help myself.
“This is the long conversation you said we needed to have,” I said as I levelled my stare with his. “I’ve, coincidentally, cleared my schedule for it today. Start where you think is the best place.”
“The beginning? ”
“That’s always a good spot, yes.”
Sumner drew in a steadying breath, knotting his fingers together. I took in his curved posture, his nervous fidgeting, and filed it away. “Aaron sent me to Addison to get to know you,” he said. “He doesn’t have the best social skills—I’m sure you could tell—and he wanted to know as much about you as he could so he could impress you when he came. I didn’t… see the harm in that, at first. It was strange, yeah, but in the world of the rich, people do worse things. So, at first, I didn’t think much of it.”
That matched with what Aaron had said, more or less. “Aaron sent you because you worked for him?”
“Yes. And because I knew him best. He trusted me.”
“So, Aaron was the man you were a secretary for. ‘ A small startup ’ you said.”
Sumner winced. “I shouldn’t have lied; I just didn’t know what else to say?—”
“Did you know why he was interested in me in the first place?” I asked, because that was another major factor. “Did you know, going into everything, that he was only interested in my parents’ company?”
“Of course not.” His response came swiftly, not even skipping a beat. “I swear, I didn’t know. At the Christmas gala, he said you were the most beautiful woman he’d seen. He has a habit of falling in love at first sight, so I did know it was on the shallower side, but I never thought he didn’t mean it at all. If I’d known, I would’ve refused to come out here.”
I listened in silence, trying to remember all the instances between Sumner and me. It made sense he didn’t know, given his reaction when he caught what Aaron said to me in the hotel lounge. He’d genuinely been angry. Say one more word, and I’ll throw you out on your ass, he’d said to Aaron. How could you say any of that to someone you care about?
“Honestly,” Sumner went on in a quieter tone, “I wasn’t mad when he asked me to come out here.”
“Because you were the one who fell in love at first sight at the Christmas gala?”
To my surprise, Sumner shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t look at you and think I was in love with you. I thought you were beautiful, sure, standing out on the balcony while it snowed, but I meant it when I said that I knew what it felt like to be alone. Seeing you that night reminded me of myself.”
When I first saw you, I couldn’t help but think how lonely you looked , he’d said at the diner. Except for him in that moment, he wasn’t talking about the fundraiser in Addison as the first time he’d seen me. He’d been talking about the Christmas gala.
“I figured if I was being sent here to learn more about you, I could be someone that made you less alone,” he went on, squeezing his fingers. He let out a little breath as he looked at them. “And then… then you smiled at me for the first time—I made you smile for the first time—and it was ridiculous. I knew I needed to do it again… and again. And then suddenly, when I was with you, I wasn’t thinking about Aaron or what I’d been sent here to do. I was only thinking about you.”
“My smile’s that pretty?”
Sumner let out another little breath, a ghost of a laugh. “I can’t explain it. Knowing I was one of the few people that could make you smile, make you laugh… Every time, I thought about the same crazy thing—what it would be like to kiss you.”
I could remember the times his eyes would drop to my lips as I smiled, the way he’d seemed to revel in it each time. It hadn’t only just been one-sided, though. “What else did you lie about?”
A newfound urgency sprung into his pleading blue gaze. “I swear .” The word was low with his sincerity. “I swear, I meant everything I said to you, Margot. I didn’t fake wanting to be your friend, I didn’t fake my feelings for you, and I?—"
“I know.”
They were clearly the last two words he expected me to say. He blinked twice, an echo, taken aback. “Y-You know.”
“It wouldn’t have made sense for you to fake feelings for me. It wouldn’t have helped Aaron, and it wasn’t as if you had some vendetta against your best friend. Plus, you’re really bad at lying. I knew you weren’t faking how you felt.” Each of the words, I meant. I might’ve been angry last night with the shock of it all, but I never doubted him. Not about that. “Reporting everything about me back to him, though… That’s where my issue is.”
“I didn’t tell him the big things,” he insisted. “I—I told him about the little things. How you liked suits and fashion, where you went to college, that you liked avocado toast but don’t like garlic butter on your mashed potatoes. I didn’t tell him the personal things.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Aaron knew about my situation with my parents. ”
“I never breathed a word about your parents or how they treated you. I—I might’ve said how people at the club treated you like an outcast, but I never said anything more serious. Not about your parents yelling, not about your dad coming into your hotel room—none of it.”
That was at least a point—Aaron didn’t know about the specifics of the poor relationship. Besides, I’m from this world too , he’d said that night in the hotel lounge. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to read between the lines. “Aaron knew I didn’t want to marry him.”
“Because the morning after your dad was drunk, I called him. I thought he’d call the whole thing off.” Sumner reached up and pressed his fingers into his eyes, shaking his head. “And maybe I shouldn’t have—it would’ve created more problems for you if Aaron backed out—but I thought… I thought he’d call it off if he knew. I didn’t think he’d double down. I guess… it makes sense he would’ve, doesn’t it? Now that I know.”
It did make sense. Sumner didn’t know it, but calling Aaron and telling him my true feelings most likely had been what Aaron was hoping for. He didn’t have to worry about winning over my heart any longer, as he’d said. After finding out I wasn’t looking for love, all he had to do was convince my mind.
I knew the lengths people would go to when it came to money. I understood Aaron. He would’ve manipulated an innocent person in order to inherit her family’s company; I would’ve married someone I’d never met in order to keep my fortune. One was worse than the other, sure, but both stemmed from an unhealthy desire to be at the top.
When I thought about Sumner being Aaron, despite the fact that that would’ve been a huge breach of trust, there’d been no betrayal there. That thought of Sumner being the elusive Aaron Astor had only brought relief. I would’ve been willing to take that trick, had it been true. I might’ve been a bothered he’d lied, but it would’ve been perfect if he’d been the man I was supposed to marry.
This was a different sort of trick. He wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t, just hiding the truth of who he was.
“You said that I was showing you it was okay to be your own person,” I said, circling back to another point I had on my mental list. “You meant your own person apart from Aaron.”
Sumner nodded. “I always listened to him when it came to what to do. For college, for work. Being his secretary only turned me even more into what he wanted me to be. I wasn’t happy, though. I never felt like I was living the life I wanted to. And if it weren’t for you, I probably never would’ve realized it.”
“I meant it when I shouldn’t have fallen for you. It was a disaster.”
“You have been liking me selfishly all along,” I murmured, remembering what he’d said the other day.
“I have been.”
One corner of my lips tipped up ever so slightly. “So we did balance each other out well.”
“We do.”
The present tense almost seemed hesitant, nervous, as if he was afraid I’d disagree with him. “My parents most likely won’t speak to me again,” I said slowly, tracing the seam on the side of my jeans. “I was thinking about going back to California with Destelle. I don’t have a place to stay here once I get kicked out of Nancy’s place, and really, there’s no point in staying.”
He nodded again, slower this time. Tension still seemed to knit at his shoulders, as if he thought this was my way of teeing up to let him down.
I kept my voice nonchalant. “You live in California, don’t you? It’s a big state.”
He leaned forward. “Where does Destelle live again?”
“Los Angeles.”
“What a coincidence,” Sumner said in a soft but bright tone. “Me too.”
The lie caused a smile to tug my lips up completely before I could fight it—and really, I didn’t want to. Sumner’s eyes traced the grin on my face, as if savoring the sight, committing it to memory. I wondered if he thought it’d be the last time he’d see it.
I got to my feet and crossed the distance between us. Sumner didn’t rise from his chair before I stopped in front of him, forcing him to tip his head back to meet my gaze. It wasn’t the first time I stood over him like this, but everything was different now. My life was different, my future. All the choices were before me now, and I could pick any one of them.
Really, though, I didn’t need a plethora of choices. I knew my answer. “You said you’d be the breadwinner and put me through fashion school,” I reminded him. “That offer still on the table?”
“I told you I’d never change my mind.” That was when he stood up, a few inches taller than me. He reached his hand out and grazed his fingertips along mine, still hesitant to fully grab on. “I meant it when I said I want to find out what that other life is like with you.”
The other life. The new life. There’d be no fancy cars, no Gilfman or Malstoni, and no thirty-dollar avocado toast, but it’d be a life of my own. No, not my own— our own. I wove our fingers together, securing him tight. Securing him to me. “Together.”
“Together.”
We both moved in at the same time, meeting each other and our new beginning halfway.
My lips met Sumner’s and immediately I fell into the moment, the kiss, the warmth. One of my hands gripped the front of his shirt, holding on to keep from floating away or falling to the ground as he kissed me with a firm, bold, beautiful pressure. Warmth speared through me, spreading out through my body until I was nothing short of burning.
Strangely, in that moment, a fierce pressure squeezed my closed eyes, almost as if I could’ve cried. Sumner didn’t erase the fears of the unknown, nor the hardships we’d definitely come across, but knowing I wouldn’t have to go through it alone brought a near crippling sort of relief. No, I wouldn’t be alone. I’d have my favorite person at my side.
As Sumner deepened the kiss, and his hands wrapped around my body, I was excited for the future. Our future.
The kiss tasted familiar, and I realized it was the promise sealed between us before. I will treasure you , it had said, with each gentle touch and each glance of his mouth.
I will treat you well . I knotted my fingers in the hair at the back of Sumner’s neck, basking in their softness, and that only I could touch them. You are mine.
Sumner’s hand curved over my lower back and pressed me closer until there wasn’t a millimeter of space that could separate us.
And I am yours.