Chapter 18
VANCE
By the time we pulled out of Wrenport, the sun was starting its descent toward the ocean. The car was full of chatter—the girls reviewing their favorite moments from the day.
“Can we do this again sometime?” Grace asked from the back seat.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Anytime.”
“Maybe next time we can go to that arcade we saw,” Annie suggested.
“Deal.”
I caught Margot’s reflection in the rearview mirror. She was smiling, looking out the window, her new T-shirt folded carefully on her lap.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to Grace’s house. Gillian was already standing on the porch, waving.
“Thanks for taking me, Vance!” Grace called, grabbing her shopping bag. “This was seriously the best day.”
“My pleasure, kiddo.”
After dropping Annie at Delphine’s, it was just the three of us left in the car—Mia, Margot, and me. The girls had gotten quieter, worn out from the long day.
“You two okay back there?” I asked.
“Just sleepy,” Mia said.
“Me too,” Margot added softly.
When I turned onto Lila’s street, the first thing I noticed wasn’t the house—it was the black SUV parked across from it. The windows were tinted, but I caught the unmistakable glint of a camera lens aimed straight at her front door.
Paparazzi.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“What’s that car doing there?” Mia asked, leaning forward.
“Stay in the car for a minute,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “Both of you. Keep the doors locked.”
I got out and crossed the street, keeping my voice level but firm. “Evening. What are you doing here?”
The guy didn’t even flinch. “Just doing my job.”
“And what’s that, exactly?” I asked.
“Love triangles, man. They can put my kids through college.”
Love triangle. What the hell was he talking about? “Say that again?”
“You and Lila Morgan. Lila and the contractor. It’s gold.”
“Listen, I’ve got my kids in the car.” I drew nearer, eyeing the camera around his neck—and imagined yanking it off and smashing it to the pavement. “Let’s have you be on your way before I call the cops.”
“Public figure. Public street,” he said with a shrug.
“This is her home,” I said evenly. “And you’re going to leave and not come back. Or I’ll call the police and report you for harassment. I’m sure your outlet would love that headline.”
He stared at me for a beat. “Fine. But you’re not going to be able to keep us away from her. We do this day in and day out, dude.”
I moved closer, my fist clenching at my side. “I don’t care what you think you can do. What I know is that I have a bad temper.”
“Calm down, Boomer.”
Boomer? I was forty-three, not eighty. Or whatever age it took to be a baby boomer.
He tossed his camera into the passenger seat, started the engine, and peeled away down the street.
I didn’t relax until the SUV disappeared around the corner. When I got back to the car, both girls were watching me with wide eyes.
“Was that a photographer?” Mia asked as I opened her door.
“Yeah,” I said gently. “But he’s gone now.”
“They know where we live?” Mia’s voice cracked. “That’s like … beyond creepy.”
“Apparently.” I looked at Margot, who’d gone very pale. “You okay, mon c?ur?”
She nodded, but her hands were trembling.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get inside. We’ve got a surprise to set up, remember?”
Inside, I made the girls swear not to text Lila about the stereo. “It has to be a surprise.”
“We won’t tell,” Mia promised. “Right, Margot?”
“I won’t say anything,” Margot said quietly. She still seemed shaken from seeing the photographer.
“Hey.” I crouched down to her level. “That man is gone. And I’m not going to let anyone scare you, okay?”
She nodded, managing a small smile. “I can’t wait to show Lila what we got her.”
“Same,” I said. “Now let’s get to work. I bet she’ll be home any minute.”
The girls helped me carry in the records and bags. I brought the turntable in last, setting it on the kitchen island.
“All right,” I said. “Where do you think we should put this?”
The girls looked around like a committee preparing for a summit.
“We can’t just plop it anywhere,” Mia said. “Mom’s kind of a perfectionist about stuff like this.”
Margot pointed toward a low cabinet against the far wall. “What about there? That seems just right.”
“Good eye,” I said. “Great spot.”
“But we should say it’s temporary,” Mia added. “She might have an idea of where she wants it.”
“Definitely temporary,” I agreed.
They helped me set everything up, and, when I placed the needle on the first record, Cécile McLorin Salvant’s voice filled the room—low and velvet-smooth.
Mia grabbed Margot’s hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”
I took photos on my phone of them twirling around the living room, giggling and breathless.
A text came through, interrupting my photography. I opened it, hoping it was Lila telling me when she’d be home.
But it was from my best friend … and others.
Dorian
Have you seen this?
Mama Cell
Call me when you can.
Ethan
We should talk.
My stomach tightened. What had happened?
I opened Dorian’s text first. A link. The page loaded slowly, and, when it did, my blood went cold.
It was a photo of me and Lila on her patio—kissing.
The porch lights soft around us like a halo, my hand beneath her chin.
A private, intimate moment on our own property, now plastered across a gossip blog.
The headline screamed in all caps:
“DESIGN DIVA IN LOVE TRIANGLE? HOME SHOW HOST CAUGHT BETWEEN CLIENT AND CO-HOST!”
My phone buzzed again. Another link—from my mother. This time, a video.
Lila at the renovation site, clearly distressed. Her hands gesturing wildly, face flushed, tears streaming. The audio was amplified, dramatic music added underneath. Every word she spoke twisted into something hysterical.
“These cabinets were supposed to be cream!” she shrieked—or so it sounded through the manipulated audio.
Then Beau stepped into frame, calm and composed, placing a hand on her shoulder. The split screen showed her tear-streaked face beside his soothing expression. He looked like the rational hero taming the hysterical woman.
The caption read: “Designer’s On-Set Meltdown — Is She Losing Control?”
Behind me, the girls were singing along to the music, oblivious.
And all I could think was: How do I protect them from this?
I stepped into the kitchen, away from the living room, and opened more links. They were everywhere—every gossip site, every social platform.
The comments were brutal:
Wow, she seems unstable.
That poor contractor trying to calm her down.
Love triangle drama AND a diva meltdown? This show is going to be a train wreck.
Feel bad for those kids caught in the middle of this mess.
My hands clenched around the phone. This had Kenzie and Beau’s names all over it. They’d sent someone to take the photos of us, then leaked them. They’d edited the footage to make her look unhinged.
Was this really about ratings—or was there something more?
Regardless, this was going to hurt the girls. Mia would understand; we could explain what was happening. But Margot … she was still fragile. Still so sure that something would happen to ruin her new life.
And what about school? It started soon. This would be fodder for cruel kids.
“Vance?” Mia’s voice pulled me back. “You okay?”
I turned, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just checking messages.”
“Is Mom coming home soon?”
“Soon,” I said, though I had no idea. She’d probably seen all this too. She was probably devastated. Hopefully she was on her way home to us. We’d figure out what to do—as a family.
God, I wanted to punch something. Instead, I texted Lila.
Vance
The girls and I are home. Drive safe. We’ll talk it all out and decide next steps. I’ve got you.
“Can you help us pick which record to play next?” Margot asked, appearing beside Mia.
“Of course.” I pocketed my phone, pushing down the rage simmering beneath my skin. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
I started on dinner, chopping garlic, halving cherry tomatoes, setting pasta water to boil, trying to keep my hands busy while my mind spiraled. After a few minutes, Margot wandered into the kitchen, watching me work.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Want to tear up this basil for me?”
She nodded, carefully pulling leaves from the stems.
“You had fun today?” I asked, grateful for the distraction.
“Yeah. It was really fun.” She paused. “Papa?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Are you going to marry Lila?”
I looked at her, surprised. “Would you want me to?”
“Yes. Then Mia would really be my sister.”
“She’s already your sister, marriage or not.”
Margot smiled. “I know. But it would make it official.”
Mia appeared beside us. “What are we talking about?”
“Nothing,” Margot said quickly, blushing.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Mia teased. Then her expression shifted. “Vance, about that guy outside …”
“He’s gone,” I reassured her.
“But he said there would be more.” Her voice wavered. “What if they keep coming? What if they take pictures of us? Put them online?”
They already have, I thought, but didn’t say it aloud.
I set down the knife, giving her my full attention. “I know it’s scary. But I’m going to do everything I can to protect you both. That’s a promise.”
“But what if you can’t?” Mia’s eyes filled with tears. “What if this gets too hard and you decide it’s not worth it? That we’re not worth it?”
Margot had stopped tearing basil, listening.
“Mia.” I moved around the counter. “Look at me. I’m not going anywhere. Not because of paparazzi. Not because things get complicated. If I’m here, I’m all in. For you and your mom. No matter what.”
“But it is getting complicated,” Mia said. “People are stalking our house. Mom’s miserable at work. And it’s all because of that stupid show.”
Margot’s voice was barely a whisper. “Is it my fault? Because I came to live with you?”
I felt my heart crack. “No. None of this is your fault. We’re all so glad you’re here. It’s my dream come true. What I’ve prayed for every single day since I lost you.”