Chapter 4 - Sunshine
Chapter four
Flying across the country to live in a hotel room while trying to find out who left me five million dollars was not what I imagined my new adventure would be.
After a deep dive into Mom’s old journals, I learned that my sperm donor was from the same city as the Sinclair family.
While there aren’t any confirmed names, it’s not outrageous to assume I’m related to them in some way.
The busy city immediately overwhelms me as I leave the hotel, and I can’t help but miss my peaceful West Coast beach.
It’s only May, but I’ve never experienced any place as humid as this.
It’s barely over eighty degrees outside, but I feel as if I’m stepping into an oven.
I’ve never felt this much humidity in my life.
And my poor hair. I’ve always loved the way my waves responded to the salty coastal air, but here it’s just a frizzy mess.
If it weren’t for the way my thick thighs chafe from sweat after a minute outside, I would walk the few blocks to the building housing the Sinclairs main office.
Instead, I wait for my rideshare and try not to think about how hot it is.
Not that I’ve had a totally negative experience since arriving.
One thing I’ve enjoyed about this city is how kind everyone is.
Most days, I would love to talk to my driver, but today, I just want to sit and rehearse how I’m going to approach Henry Sinclair to tell him that we might be related.
From everything I’ve read about the Sinclairs, they seem to be nice.
They’re titans in the business world with a stellar legacy, but people only have good things to say about the entire family.
It’s still intimidating. The task of telling someone you might be their secret half sibling is daunting, regardless.
But to approach the head of a Fortune 500 company and tell him that you think you’re their father’s illegitimate love child is on another level.
I don’t even know if Henry would accept a meeting with me, but there’s no harm in trying. It’s not like I have anything to lose anyway. And even the slightest hope that I could have a family again outweighs it all.
Walking into the building, I’m met with pure chaos. A group of people crowds the reception desk, all talking to the receptionist while she attempts to address their concerns individually.
“Excuse me, everyone. I apologize for the inconvenience you’re all experiencing today.
Mr. Sinclair will be out of the country for the foreseeable future, and all meetings for the next two months were supposed to be canceled.
It seems a batch of cancellation notification emails didn’t make it to you.
In the meantime, we will do everything we can to help in any way we can. ”
Two months. I certainly don’t want to live in a hotel for that long.
I would need to find a temp job too. I can’t go for two months without working at all.
I’m far too scared to touch the mysterious fortune sitting in that bank account.
It’s only going to get hotter here, too.
I’m struggling to function in this weather, and it’s only May!
It usually takes a lot to ruin my day, but it’s officially been ruined. Defeated, I walk outside and sink onto a bench beside the building. Disappointment must be written across my face as I sit, fighting back tears.
“Do you mind if I sit here, ma’am?”
I look up to see a well-dressed, middle-aged man smiling at me. At least the people are kind here. “Be my guest,” I say, returning his smile as he takes a seat. “Were you trying to meet with Mr. Sinclair as well?”
“I was. I’ve actually been trying to get a meeting with him for a few months now, but he’s been hard to get in touch with since he got married.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” I say.
“Married a woman half his age.”
“Oh!”
“Yep…Did you have a meeting canceled?” he asks.
“No. I didn’t know I needed one, but seeing how important he is, I feel silly thinking I could just walk up and start chatting.” I chuckle.
“I’m Lawrence, by the way.” He laughs along with me.
I think for a second that I probably shouldn’t give out my name so freely, but he’s such a nice-looking man. And if he’s doing business with my theoretical brother, how bad could he be? I hold my arm out for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Lawrence. I’m Lucy.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, shaking my hand. “So why is a beautiful lady like yourself looking for a meeting with Mr. Sinclair?”
“Well, it’s not just him, it’s really any of the Sinclairs. I’ve been looking for my father, and the only real clue I have leads me to them. I was hoping he could help me determine if I was related to them in any way and, if not, at the very least lead me in a better direction.”
We sit in silence for a moment while Lawrence seems lost in thought.
“I may be able to help you get in touch with the family. Blanche has a position open right now, and I can get you an audition. I only ask that if you do get the position, you help me. Since Mr. Sinclair won’t be available for at least a couple of months. ”
“Oh, that would be perfect! Thank you!”
He laughs as I borderline attack him with a hug. “Alright. Let me see what strings I can pull and see how soon I can get an interview set up for you.”
After Lawrence and I exchanged information, I made my way back to my home sweet hotel in a much better mood than I had been prior to meeting him. It didn’t take him long at all to get back in touch with me, letting me know that I had an interview the following morning at Blanche Sinclair’s house.
Now, I’m standing in front of a mansion in the countryside, watching my rideshare drive away. The moment they’re out of sight, I realize I’m stranded here at a stranger’s house.
All because a random man I met on a bench told me he could get me an interview with the Sinclairs. This could be anyone’s home. I’m going to be snatched, right here, right now. The more I think about it, the dumber I feel.
Before I get too lost in my head, the door opens to reveal a beautiful middle-aged woman.
Blanche Sinclair. My relief is immediate as I take in the sight of a familiar face.
With the extensive research I’ve done on this family, she feels like an old friend.
My grin widens as I realize the odds of being kidnapped today are much less likely.
“Hello, dear! You must be Lucy. I’m Blanche. Blanche Sinclair,” she says, holding her hand out for a shake.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Blanche!” I say, taking her hand. “Yes, I’m Lucy. Lucy Sommers.”
“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, darling. My, my, aren’t you a beauty? Absolutely perfect for my vision.” She pauses to look me up and down, but her attention is interrupted by the sound of a baby screaming inside. “Oh goodness, please come in, come in.”
I follow her command, crossing the threshold of one of the nicest houses I’ve ever seen.
She leads the way through her house, asking basic questions: where I’m from, how old I am, and what my daily schedule is.
I’m about to answer her question about my experience when we walk into what must be the nursery.
At first glance, it looks like a tornado came through this brightly themed room.
There are three babies, all in their own cribs, with a fourth crib empty.
Blanche reaches down to pick up the crying baby, and the screaming subsides. I take the moment to respond to her last question. “That’s what I was going to ask you about, Blanche. I’m not exactly sure what…”
Before I can continue, another tiny baby starts crying.
“Oh, you’ll be fine, dear. Here, hold her, please,” she says, handing me the wailing bundle.
I haven’t been around many babies in my life, so I mimic Blanche’s rocking, and before I know it, the tiny thing is asleep.
“Ah, you’re doing lovely. You’ve already gotten her to sleep,” Blanche says as she makes her way toward me, holding a baby of her own. “Back to what I was saying. I think you’ll be the perfect fit for this role. No need to worry…”
Wait, what role is she talking about? Looking down at the sleeping bundle in my arms, I’m hit with the realization that I’ve just signed up to be a babysitter. Fuck. I am most definitely not qualified for this.
“...I hope you don’t mind living in the guesthouse. It’s very important that the two of you bond, so proximity is integral to the role…”
Two of us? I guess I’m just in charge of one baby. That makes sense. The Sinclairs are wealthy enough to afford a nanny for each child. I wonder if I’ll have the same baby all the time or if we’ll alternate.
“...The other helpers won’t be staying on-site, so it will mostly be the two of you…”
Am I getting this baby in my arms? Is this the favorite? Would Blanche have a favorite? Everyone says they don’t, and maybe it’s just because I’m an only child, but I feel certain I would have a favorite.
“...Anyway, that will be about all. You can head over to the cottage now if you want. Or I’m sure you’ll need to go get your things.
I didn’t see a car outside. I’ll give you a couple of nights to get all settled in, and we can start the day after tomorrow.
I’ll give your script to you as early as I can! ”
I haven't even fully agreed to this, and Blanche is already handing me a key. She takes back her granddaughter and gives me a hug. “This is going to be such a fantastic project. My life’s work. We’re going to have a ball.”
Life’s work? Strange way to talk about your grandchildren, Blanche, but whatever, I guess. She gives me directions to her guesthouse as we say our goodbyes, and I go in search of my new home.
It doesn’t take me long to reach the cottage, and although it’s much smaller than the main house, it’s cuter than anywhere I’ve lived.
I’m excited to see what the interior must look like, but when I unlock the door, I’m met with disappointment.
It’s nice enough, but drab. The decor is monochromatic and angular and nothing like the nursery I just came from.
I’m not trained for early development by any means, but I know a child should be exposed to more color than this.
A quick walk through the rest of the cottage confirms there is no life in any room.
Maybe this is the first time Blanche is trying this.
The babies did seem pretty young. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I took some liberties to zhuzh the place up a bit.
Sitting on the bed, I pull out my phone and start making a list of things I need to pick up from the home store.
I’m about to schedule a rideshare to pick me up when I see boots on the floor of the closet.
Upon further inspection, I find a full closet of monochromatic men’s clothes that must have belonged to the last guest here.
It’s just like a man to leave his things for someone else to deal with.
I add closet reorganization to my to-do list, take a deep breath, and call a ride.
There’s no use wasting any more time. The sooner I can start work and find out more about my dad, the sooner I can go home.