Night and Day

by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

  The door to the studio opened again, and Max held his breath. It had to be her. She had to forgive him. When he saw it was his sister, he sighed. They were going to gang up on him.

  “You started without me?” Laura sat next to Joaquin and swiped the coffee cup right out of his beefy paw.

  “What is this?” Max scowled at his sister almost as hard as Joaquin was. “An intervention?”

  “I don’t even know how that would work.” Laura took a sip of her commandeered coffee, winking at him. “I wasn’t even here when you had one for our mother. I was in New York, trying to forget about my husband.”

  “You didn’t even get married intentionally.” Laura and Charlie had gotten married accidentally, while drunk at a family wedding in the South Pacific. “The Mai Tai’s made you do it.”

  “The first time.” Laura smiled. “The second time—the real wedding—that was very intentional.” When Laura had tried to leave Charlie behind for a shot at becoming a principal dancer for the New York City Ballet, he’d found out that the ceremony in Bali had been fake. Lola and her grandfather had conspired to let them believe it was real.

  Speaking of Lola, Max wondered if his newly reunited grandparents were on their way. “Are Lola and Rogelio going to ‘pop in’ as well?”

  “Lola’s bringing the donuts.”

  “Which you won’t eat.” Joaquin referred to the constant diet Laura was on, due to her career.

  “Actually, I’d shank someone for a donut right now.”

  Max decided to seize on the change in subject. “When’s the last time you had a donut?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “Are you depressed or something?”

  She smirked at him when she said, “Or something.”

  The realization slowly but synchronized dawned on Max and Joaquin; his brother just got the words out first. “You’re pregnant?”

  Max wasn’t sure whether to treat this as a tragedy or a celebration—his sister hadn’t ever mentioned wanting to be a mother. He knew that she had some of the same fears that he did. In fact, the whole running away to New York thing was really about not becoming her mother—not giving up on a life of her own just to cater to a man.

  But then, Laura smiled at them and nodded, her eyes going glassy from tears. “I am.”

  “And you’re happy about it?” Joaquin asked.

  “Thrilled.”

  Max moved first, around the table to hug his sister. Growing up, they hadn’t been all that close. He and Joaquin were older than Laura by almost a decade. But, since their mother had gone into rehab and left their father, they’d gotten closer. The apparent change in status of their parents’ marriage hadn’t seemed to change that.

  “How’s Charlie handling the news?”

  “Fine.” Laura sniffled and pushed him away. “But we’re not here to talk about my husband’s feelings about our impending parenthood.”

  Shit. “There’s nothing to talk about when it comes to Letty.”

  “Great!” Joaquin clapped his hands together and stood. “Then I didn’t get up three hours before a decent hour to have an emergency family meeting.”

  Just then, Lola walked in, looking about twenty years younger than her actual age in a filmy pink dress. She was trailed by their grandfather, who stared at his ex-wife with the sort of googly eyes that he imagined he’d had fifty years ago when they were first married.

  “Sit down, Joaquin,” his grandmother ordered. His brother complied immediately. Their grandfather placed a box from The Salty Donut on the table, and both his siblings tucked in.

  For his part, Max couldn’t imagine putting anything in his stomach, even when Lola pointed from the box to his mouth.

  “You have to eat.”

  “Not hungry.” His stomach betrayed him by growling, and he grabbed a plain, glazed donut just to avoid an argument. He ate the whole light, airy thing in two bites while his family attacked their food. Hoping to escape his intervention for a few more minutes, he went back to the kitchen to make coffee.

  Clearly not interested in waiting before laying into him about Letty, his grandmother followed him.

  “Abuela—”

  “I don’t want to hear any more of your stupid reasons for being stupid.” Lola’s English was very good, but her ability to lecture him was curtailed by limited vocabulary.

  “I’m not sure that there’s anything left to be done.” He poured coffee and grabbed cream and sugar from the fridge. Lola took those, and Max grabbed the full carafe.

  “Come. We’ll talk about it.” Lola shook her head. “There’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  “This from the woman who didn’t speak to her husband for thirty-five years?”

  “I’m the expert on making mistakes in love, then. We will fix this.”

  “What if it can’t be fixed?” Max put the coffee on the table. “I can’t magically not get cut off, especially after last night. And she doesn’t deserve to be with a guy who can’t give her anything.”

  “Psst. She takes care of herself.” Lola patted his arm, then squeezed with surprising strength. “The way she looks at you, she loves you. You’re both just afraid.”

  “What’s she afraid of?” Laura piped in.

  Max wasn’t sure how much he should divulge about Letty’s family, but a big part of him just wanted to take the leap and trust his family to help him. Before Lola had come to the States, they’d never had this. His grandfather had always been the strong, silent type—always there with a card full of cash on birthdays, but not really one to offer emotional support. His siblings had always been tending to their own emotional wounds. They’d never done the thing—now obvious—which was to lean on each other.

  Hearing his sister announce her pregnancy a few moments ago had made him happy. Before Lola came back—and before Letty—he’d never contemplated that another person’s happiness could actually make him happy.

  Now, everything was different. He wanted to be different for Letty, and maybe talking things out with his family—as uncomfortable as that concept made him—was the key to everything working out this time.

  Max cleared his throat. “You know that her sister’s a supermodel, right?”

  “Yeah. She’s totally smart and nice, though,” Laura said.

  That was right, they’d gone shopping together. “Well, Letty’s mom never made her forget that she thought Letty wasn’t as attractive as Elena because she weighs more.”

  His sister’s voice was quiet. “I know how that feels.”

  And Max was so sorry for that. Laura had chosen to dedicate her life to ballet because it was the easiest way to get away from their parents. She’d felt trapped, as though she hadn’t had any other option. The fact that ballet was only marginally less brutal than their addict mom and abusive shit bag of a father had made its mark. “Letty is the most beautiful girl in the world to me, but her ex-boyfriend didn’t see it that way. Her ex-boss and her ex-boyfriend.”

  Joaquin rolled his eyes. “Who doesn’t have a shitty ex-boss and shitty ex-boyfriend all rolled into one?”

  That, they would have to address at the next family chat. “He dumped her and fired her and told her that he was only interested in her for her family’s money once it became clear that he couldn’t get his hands on the latter.”

  Max could feel Lola’s rage from a few feet away. He could imagine how much more frightening it would have been when she was young, and his grandparents hadn’t been getting along at all. No wonder they hadn’t spoken in three-and-a-half decades, and Grandpa Rogelio had kept his mouth shut for most of that time. “That idiot. Has someone thought to slash his tires?”

  “He’s also the executive director of Art Basel.” Max hated that, but he was hardly in the position to extort his father into getting the board to fire him. “He’s got a lot of juice in this town. An
d I’m no one compared to him.”

  “Did she say that to you?” Rogelio finally piped in with a question.

  “No, but she knows it.” Resting his head on his hands, he continued. “The way she walked in on the conversation with Alejandro looks really bad. And I didn’t even defend her.”

  “Certainly seemed like she was smitten with you while we were shopping.”

  “It did?” Hope made its way back into the corners of his mind.

  “Let me tell you something about women, hermano.” Laura grabbed another donut with what could only be described as food lust on her face. “A girl doesn’t buy a red dress cut down to there.” She motioned toward the bottom of her sternum. “For a date with a guy she’s only sort of into maybe.”

  “Maybe she was blinded by the lovemaking.” Lola’s bald statement made him and his siblings laugh. And laugh. Until they were all doubled over and gasping for breath.

  With tears streaming out of her eyes, Laura said, “Not that I want to think about that with respect to my brother, but no one is that good in bed.”

  Lola looked like she was about to say something, but she opened and closed her mouth.

  Shocking all of them, Rogelio piped in. “I might be able to smooth things over with your father.”

  His statement was doubly shocking because he had never interceded on their mother’s behalf with their father. He and his siblings had been fond of him despite of that fact, but he’d never been their shelter in the storm.

  “How?”

  “He cut you off because his business has suffered since certain facts about his marriage became public in his social and business circles.”

  Max knew that his mother—when she’d been able to keep her shit together—had worked almost as hard as his father on networking, but he hadn’t realized that it was such a large part of his business.

  “He’s strapped for cash?” And not just being malicious?

  “And I’ve paid him back the initial investment he made in the first restaurant after the first year.” Joaquin’s business was growing, and, unlike most restaurants, it was doing so on its own, without constant infusions of outside capital.

  “I haven’t taken their money in years.” Laura had been a principal dancer in the Miami City Ballet up until a few months ago, and she’d never spent money ostentatiously. Now, she lived with her successful television producer husband and didn’t have to work. She placed her hand on her lower belly. “I’m going to go back to work eventually, but I’m just going to enjoy this for now.”

  His siblings being totally independent while he still mooched off their parents made him feel awful. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a sullen hermit, he could have made his own connections and made enough money to buy the building from his father outright. Jesus.

  “It’s not your fault, Max.” Lola had no idea if that was true, no clue that she was just making shit up to make him feel better.

  “Yes, it is.” Max looked to his grandfather. “How do we fix this?”

  Chapter 19

  When Elena’s house phone rang the first time, Letty let it go to voicemail. She was only squatting on her sister’s couch in her chic, little condo until she found a new secretarial job—something that had nothing to do with art or artists. Maybe she could get a job at a hedge fund? Those guys were so rich that they wouldn’t give a damn about her family’s money.

  The phone rang over and over again, disturbing her as she tried to read a magazine in peace. But truth was, aside from the fact that Elena was on the cover, Letty didn’t remember anything she was looking at. Every time the phone rang, she went through the same cycle—hoping it was Max, knowing it wasn’t, and noting that she needed to remind Elena to get rid of the house phone. Everyone had cell phones now that they didn’t even use as phones.

  The hundredth time the phone rang, Letty picked up, ready to tell whomever was on the other end about the amazing advancements in technology.

  “Letty Gonzalez?” the other voice asked. Not Max. The voice wasn’t nearly deep or resonant enough to be him.

  “Speaking.”

  “I’m James Trawley, with your sister’s agency.”

  “Do you want me to go find her?” She thought her sister had said she was out on a job today, which meant that her agency should probably know where to find her.

  “No, I’m calling for you.”

  What? “But I’m not a model.” As her mother had been sure to remind her over and over again, she was no model, nothing compared to her sister.

  “Not yet.”

  Not wanting the poor man to think we was getting a duplicate of the svelte and lovely Elena Gonzalez, Letty decided to arm him with the cold facts. “I wear size 14 pants.”

  “Perfect for our plus-size group.”

  So she could be in spreads about fat girls in their skivvies? No thank you. “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

  “We already have a client requesting you. They saw the photo of you and your sister on the red carpet for the gala the other night.”

  That wasn’t how things normally worked. Elena had started out in the modelling business when she was barely a teenager, but she’d had to actually try for that. Maybe this guy was a prank caller of some sort? That had to be it. Someone was playing a joke on her. She wouldn’t put it past her mother to try and dangle a modelling contract in front of her to get her to at least try to lose ten pounds. Maybe her mother had decided that she could live with a size-14 daughter, and this was all part of her grand scheme?

  “Who?”

  He named a reputable swimwear company.

  The eye roll was probably evident in her voice. “Sure, buddy. Try pulling the other one.”

  “I’m not pulling your leg, Ms. Gonzalez.” James cleared his throat. “We’d like you to come in this afternoon so that we can get some head shots.”

  Letty stood up and checked herself out in the mirror. Even though she’d been deeply depressed since the whole blow up with Max, she hadn’t been drowning her sorrows in junk food and wine. Instead, she’d thrown herself into moving her things to storage. Once she’d arrived at Elena’s, she’d realized that house rules prohibited junk food. Thus, while she had faint, dark circles under her eyes, she didn’t look puffy and red faced. Her hair was a disaster, but the arsenal of products in her sister’s bathroom could probably remedy that.

  “How am I supposed to believe you?”

  “If you get to your sister’s agency, and I’m not here, you’ll know that I was lying.”

  “I don’t know how to pose for pictures.” Thinking about posing inevitably had her mind flipping back to that afternoon in Max’s studio. She closed her eyes and could almost feel his heavy, callused hands digging into her thighs. Just imagining his eyes raking over her body had her limbs loosening.

  Until she remembered that they were over, and no one would likely look at her like that again. Max had been the only one—other than her sister—who actually saw her as beautiful. Or so she’d thought. She didn’t know how to feel anymore. Part of her wanted to trust the things that he’d made her feel, but she couldn’t shake the way he’d made her feel that last night.

  But could she risk it?

  “I’m going to need your answer.”

  “You’re going to have to wait about a minute for me to get my head around this.” Letty didn’t mean to snap, but this was all a lot to process with a severely bruised heart. “They’ve actually seen what I look like and want me to model?”

  “I don’t have the reputation I have by pulling one over on clients.”

  “And they want me to model swimsuits?” She could feel him hesitate over the line. “That’s what I said.”

  “So, you want Elena Gonzalez’s fat sister to come in a model with barely any clothes on?” She had even less of a reason to believe it now, from this stranger over the phone, than
she had that first day at Max’s studio.

  “The client wants Letty Gonzalez.”

  The idea that someone would want to look at her didn’t ring false. For maybe the first time in her life, she didn’t have her mother’s voice in her head tearing her down. Something about her time with Max—even though it had been built on a lie—had changed her. Perhaps the truth of what he’d felt was somewhere in between wanting to use her and simply wanting her.

  The space opened up by that possibility must have been what made her say, “What time do I need to be there?”

  * * * *

  Max hadn’t been to his father’s office in at least a year. The austere, glass and steel building wasn’t distinguishable from any of the high-rises along Brickell. Still, he could swear that the air changed as soon as he stepped up to the door. There seemed to be less oxygen with every step he took toward the elevator, every floor that ticked by.

  He pulled on his collar, even though he’d forgone a tie. He’d put on a suit because he’d wanted his father to know that he was taking this seriously, that he was serious about Letty and making a life with her. He’d do anything to make sure that happened. If his father wanted him to join the business, knowing how useless he was at anything other than shaping metal and glass, he’d do it. He could make art on the side if that gave him time to give Letty everything that she needed.

  Short of giving his father a chance to mess up his mother’s sobriety, he would do anything to get back into his good graces. Max didn’t like being in this position, didn’t relish the idea of getting on his knees and begging, but he would do it for Letty. He only hoped that his father wouldn’t force it to that point, that he’d take the offer Max had brought with him.

  The elevator doors opened with a ding, and he stepped into the sterile, white lobby. He tapped the manila folder in his hand against his leg twice, hoping his father wouldn’t immediately shoot down the offer from Hector Hernandez.

  His father and Hector had always been frenemies of a sort. When Hector had done well and bought a house in Coral Gables, his father had worked twice as hard so the Delgados could move into a bigger house. His father always had to have the same make of car, but one model better than Hector.