Chapter 23
Sarah
Sarah hadn’t slept. She’d stared at the ceiling of her apartment until the sky turned gray, then forced herself into the shower. The water scalded her skin, but she didn’t adjust it.
Her reflection showed what two hours of sleep looked like. Dark circles that concealer couldn’t quite hide. The faint bruise on her cheek where her mother had slapped her. She built up layers of foundation until the mark disappeared.
Professional. Composed. The ice queen who never cracked.
Except she had cracked last night. In front of guests.
Sarah drove to work on autopilot. Parked in her usual spot. Walked through the employee entrance like every morning. Everything felt wrong.
Chrisla looked up as Sarah passed the desk. “Morning, Sarah.”
“Morning.”
Was her smile strained? Did she know? Sarah kept walking. Carlos waved from the maintenance office. Sarah waved back.
Did he know? Had someone told him?
Her office was at the end of the hall. Just thirty more feet and she could close herself inside.
Then she saw Lizzie.
Sitting on the bench outside her office. Phone in her hands but not looking at it. Just waiting.
Sarah’s steps slowed. She’d texted Lizzie at two AM. A pathetic apology that explained nothing. Lizzie had responded with love and Sarah had been too much of a coward to say anything else.
Now Lizzie was here. Sarah would have to face her.
Lizzie looked up as Sarah approached. She stood. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Sarah unlocked her office door. “Come in.”
They walked inside. Sarah closed the door and turned to face Lizzie.
“We need to talk.”
Sarah set down her bag. “Lizzie, I can’t right now—”
“No.” Lizzie’s voice was firm but not unkind.
“No more deflecting. No more pretending everything’s fine.
You told me your mother lived in Texas. That woman last night said she’s from Wisconsin.
You said your father died when you were young, but she says he’s alive.
Toothless, but alive. None of it makes sense. ”
Sarah felt the floor tilt. The ice queen facade cracked straight down the middle.
She sank into her desk chair and put her head in her hands.
“I never wanted you to know. I never wanted anyone to know.”
Lizzie pulled the other chair around the desk and sat close. She didn’t touch Sarah. Just waited.
Sarah couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear to see the disgust that would be there when she found out the truth. But the words were coming anyway.
“Everything I’ve told you about my parents is a lie. There’s no mother in Texas. There’s no father who died when I was young. My parents were and are addicts. Alcoholics and methamphetamine users. My whole childhood.”
Lizzie sucked in air, but Sarah didn’t stop. If she stopped now, she’d never get it out.
“I raised myself from the time I was nine years old. Took myself to school. Cooked my own meals when there was food in the house. Made sure my parents ate. Tried to keep the house clean even though it was falling apart around us. Did everything while they spent every penny on drugs.”
Sarah looked up. Lizzie’s eyes were wet with tears.
“I learned how to forge my mother’s signature for permission slips.
How to steal food from the school cafeteria to take home.
How to tell teachers I was fine when I showed up in the same clothes three days in a row.
” Sarah’s hands were shaking. “I got good at lying. It’s the only skill I learned from them. ”
“Oh, Sarah.”
“When I was thirteen, my mother was high and decided to drive to the store. I begged her not to. Tried to hide the keys. She hit me and took them anyway.” Sarah could still feel the sting of that slap.
“She crashed into our neighbor’s fence. The car went through the fence into their yard and hit their toolshed.
Mr. Patterson came running out and she hit him with the car. Broke his arm. Gave him a concussion.”
Lizzie pressed her hand over her mouth.
“The police came. My mother was still high but coherent enough to know she was going to jail. So she told them I had taken the car. That I’d stolen the keys and gone for a joyride.
Made me go along with the story. Told me later that if I didn’t back her up, she’d make sure I ended up in foster care where worse things would happen to me. ”
“You were thirteen years old. That’s abuse. All of it is. Your neighbor didn’t say that it was her who hit him, nor you?” Tears pooled in her eyes.
“I don’t think he saw who drove. It was dark.
Anyway, I ended up with a slap on the wrist and an entry in my record that was sealed when I was eighteen.
” Sarah’s voice went flat. “If my mother had been charged as an adult addict who’d driven high and hurt someone, she would have gone to prison.
So I took the fall. And I learned that the people who were supposed to protect you were the ones most likely to hurt you. ”
Lizzie was crying openly now but Sarah couldn’t stop. The dam had broken.
“I stayed for three more years. Kept going to school. Kept trying to take care of them. But nothing changed. They’d promise to get clean and then I’d find needles in the bathroom again. My mother would cry and say she was sorry and then steal money from my backpack to buy more drugs.”
Sarah stood and walked to the window. She couldn’t sit still anymore.
“When I was fifteen, I went to court and filed for emancipation. Used everything. The accident. Their addiction. Photos of the house. Testimony from teachers and neighbors. The judge granted it. I moved out the same day with nothing but a backpack and two hundred dollars I’d saved from babysitting jobs. ”
“Where did you go?”
“San Francisco. I don’t even know why. Just got on a bus and picked a city far away.
” Sarah pressed her forehead against the cool glass.
“I slept in a homeless shelter for three months. Got a job cleaning rooms at a motel. The owner knew I was living in the shelter, but she didn’t care as long as I showed up and worked hard. ”
Lizzie was silent. Sarah could feel her watching but couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t see the pity that must be there.
“I got my GED. Worked as a maid during the day and a waitress at night. I moved into an apartment with five roommates in a terrible neighborhood, but I saved every penny I could. By the time I was nineteen, I’d worked my way up to a nicer hotel. The Fairmont. That’s where I met Billy.”
The memory was still so clear. Sarah in her housekeeping uniform, Billy in an expensive suit, both of them in the service elevator.
“Billy had just bought the hotel. He was restructuring everything. I kept my head down and worked harder than anyone else.” Sarah turned around.
“Then one day he found me crying in the supply closet. I’d gotten a letter from my mother asking for money.
The first contact I’d had with her in three years.
I still don’t know how she found my address. ”
“What did Billy do?”
“He asked what was wrong. I don’t know why I told him. Maybe because I was just so tired of holding it all in.” Sarah sat back down. “I told him everything. I expected him to let me go. Who wants an employee with a past like mine?”
“But he didn’t.” Lizzie had walked to her side, one hand on the small of her back.
“He didn’t. He said that what my parents did wasn’t my fault.
Then he asked me if I wanted to learn the hotel business properly.
” Sarah smiled despite herself. “He sent me on training courses. Front desk operations at first, then hospitality management. We became friends. It was odd because when we met I was nineteen and he was fifty-three. Yet, we had so much in common. Then, one day when we went out to a diner to eat, someone mistook me for his girlfriend. One of his associates. It was odd. The guy was so thrilled that Billy was with a woman.”
Sarah shook her head, remembering that night.
“That night, we had a talk. Billy told me that ever since his wife, Catherine, died, his associates were pushing him to remarry, that it looked odd that a man his age wasn’t with someone.
Catherine had been dead about eight years by then.
People were speculating and trying to set him up.
But he just wasn’t interested in anyone else.
He admitted that it would be good for his reputation to be married to a pretty young thing, that’s what he called me.
PYT was a nickname he used for years for me later on. ” A small laugh escaped her.
“Anyway, we talked and he said he had a proposition for me. A marriage of convenience. He needed a wife to stop people from constantly trying to set him up. To stop the rumors and the questions. I needed protection. Security. A way to build a life that wasn’t constantly threatened by my past. I was worried he was after more, so I told him I was gay.
I had actually just broken up with a serious girlfriend. ”
“The peanut butter one?” Lizzie asked with a grin.
“Yeah, that one.” They exchanged a smile.
“Did you tell him? About being gay.”
“Oh, he knew. I told him early one just so he wouldn’t get ideas. That’s when he first told me about Catherine. There were never secrets between us.”
“So you married him.”
“We genuinely loved each other. Just not romantically. He was my best friend. My mentor. The father I never had.” Sarah’s voice broke. “Over the years, we built the hotel empire together. I proved myself at every level. Billy made me GM at two different properties before the Carlson.”
“What about your parents?”
“I cut her off, but she kept finding me. She made veiled threats about telling the world who I really am and I was terrified. By then, Billy and I had erased the past with a fake back story so I could really start over. Eventually my mom found out though. I guess we were in some magazine together or something. Hotel magnate and his young wife… that type of stuff. She asked for money, I ignored her. She disappeared eventually and I thought she got the message, but really Billy was paying her off behind my back.”
Lizzie gasped. “You didn’t know?”
“Not until after he died. I found the transfers when I was going through his accounts.” Sarah set the phone down. “I was furious at first. Then I understood. Billy was protecting me. He knew what it would do to my career if the truth came out. A meth addict’s daughter running hotels?”
“But you’re not responsible for what your parents did.”
“It doesn’t matter. People judge. I’m already fighting the assumption that I slept my way to the top. Add in my real background?” Sarah shook her head. “And now with the lawsuit?”
Lizzie stood and came around the desk. She pulled Sarah to her feet and wrapped her arms around her.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Sarah let herself be held. Let herself cry against Lizzie’s shoulder for the first time since Billy’s funeral.
‘What happened outside?” Lizzie whispered.
“My mom wants money. As always. She’s making threats about telling the world who I really am.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“It’s leverage. And she knows how to use it.” Sarah pulled back and wiped her face. “I can’t let her destroy everything. Not after how hard I’ve worked.”
“What are you going to do?”
Sarah shrugged and turned in her arms. “I suppose I’ll have to pay her off. Hope she doesn’t come back.”
“And if she does?”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “Pay her more. I suppose that will have to be my life for now. Maybe once the lawsuit is over, I can come out with everything. Being gay, being the daughter of addicts and so on. But until then? I have to do what I have to do.”
Sarah pulled back and wiped her face. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I just—I’ve been lying for so long that I don’t know how to stop.”
“Hey.” Lizzie cupped Sarah’s face. “I understand why you did it.”
“You do?”
“You were protecting yourself.” Lizzie’s thumb brushed away a tear on Sarah’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, I’m here.”
Sarah went very still. “You mean that?”
“I love you. All of you. Even the parts you’ve been hiding.”
They wrapped their arms around each other and stood, and for the first time in a long time, Sarah felt as though she was truly understood, free, and safe.