“Good. Because I have three tickets to a musical.”
“Oh my god, that’s so great,” Cara squealed. “Autumn, you’re going to a musi—wait, did you say three?” Cara gripped her sister’s arm, but it was me she was staring at.
“I said three.”
“As in… as in you, and Autumn, and me?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh my god,” Cara repeated, her jaw staying open in surprise. Autumn, for her part, was looking a little concerned. I needed to get her alone ASAP so I could figure out what was wrong. “What—what show is it?”
“Not sure if you’ve heard of it… it’s called Hamilton.”
The color drained from Cara’s face. Her pale skin looked positively ghost-like as she stared at me in shock. Autumn looked stunned too, but not quite in the same way as her sister.
Cara recovered first. “Hamilton! I can’t believe—seriously, we’re going to see Hamilton?” She was actually bouncing up and down in her seat.
Finally, Autumn found her voice. “Ford, you—I mean, thank you, but you can’t fly us to New York to see Hamilton. We could never accept that.”
“But Autumn, it’s Hamilton!” Cara said, staring at her sister like she’d just announced that her new hobby was kitten-juggling.
“I know you love it, Cara, but this is too much.” Autumn turned back to me. “Seriously, that’s very generous, but we can’t accept. We’re not flying to New York.”
“You’re right, we aren’t flying to New York. It’s not just on Broadway anymore.”
“Oh, but—” Cara said and then stopped mid-sentence. A wise decision if she wanted to see her favorite musical.
“It is?” Autumn said. “I hadn’t heard it was on the road.”
“It is,” I said, and Cara and I exchanged glances. I had a feeling she knew exactly where Hamilton was playing. “The tickets are bought–and they weren’t easy to get. If you don’t come, it’ll just be me trying to understand those lightning-fast lyrics by myself.”
Cara jumped in. “I can tell you all about it! I know every line of every song.” She turned to her sister. “Please, Autumn, please… this is the most amazing musical of the last billion years. Please, please, please can we go?”
Autumn was clearly torn. She only had to look at her younger sister’s face to see how much this meant to her, but something was bothering her. Something that couldn’t be solved with coveted theater tickets.
“Okay,” she said at last. Her next words were partially drowned out by Cara’s excited exclamations. “Thank you, Ford. You can see how much it means to her. To us. Thank you.”
22
Autumn
After splitting the last beignet with Cara and listening to her talk about her top ten favorite tracks from the musical, Ford finally stood up, saying he should get going. As soon as he was on his feet, I was struck anew by how out of place he looked in our tiny kitchen. His expensive suit and haircut, his rakish smile and twinkling eyes… he looked like he should be in a movie, not my apartment. He looked too good to be here. And definitely too big to be here.
Cara and I were both 5’ 5”. We fit—barely—in this cramped apartment. He took up too much space, used up too much air. Though I had to admit, he’d fit very nicely into my bed on Friday night. That part I wasn’t complaining about though I shouldn’t have gotten that involved with him. When Ford was around, he was all I could focus on, all I could see, all I could think about. And I had other things I needed to focus on. My new job. My father. Cara. Hot guys were supposed to be at the very bottom of the list. But Ford had a way of rising to the top.
“Thank you ladies for a lovely evening, and I’m looking forward the weekend. Autumn, would you walk me down to my car?”
I’d been expecting something like that, so I nodded, pulling on a jacket as Cara thanked him again.
He held the door for me—the door he’d had installed to my apartment. Already, our lives were changing because of Ford. But it could all change back just as quickly when he came to his senses and realized he didn’t want to continue to play fairy godmother to us. And I wasn’t sure that Cara could handle things going back to the way they used to be. Hell, I wasn’t even sure that I could.
We walked in silence down the stairs and out to the parking lot. I tried to think of something to say, some kind of simple small talk, but all I could think about was that my father had stolen money from the company Ford’s father had started.
I’d done the math, after I found out who Ford was. I looked him up online, since I finally knew his full name. His father had died three and a half years ago, so Ford hadn’t even been at the company when my father worked there. Still, I felt guilty. Tainted by association. I’d always looked up to my dad. Believed him to be a good man. He said he’d taken the money because we needed it. Because my mom could no longer work, and the out-of-pocket portions of the medical bills were piling up. He said he wanted to hire some help so that I could finish my senior year of high school—a fact that made me feel guilty to this day.
Even now, it was still sometimes hard for me to believe my father stole from the company that employed him. And provided our health insurance. Things had gone from bad to worse after my father was arrested. And my feelings about him, about what he did, about what he used to be like were now all tangled up in my mind. Davenport Industries was no longer a faceless entity. The man standing next to me was the CEO. And he was a good man. Probably his father before him was, too. And my father had betrayed their trust.
We reached Ford’s car, and he leaned back against it, looking at me in the dusky light. “How are things at Montgomery Media?”
“Good,” I said, forcing some lightness into my voice. I sometimes wondered how I would have made it this far in life without the acting skills I’d learned in high school. “I think you’ll be really pleased with the training videos we’re making for you.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
His words took me by surprise. Had Heidi complained about my work? But she said she’d liked it. “Why not?” I asked, worried.
“Because when I watch them, I’ll hear your sexy voice and get inappropriately turned on.”
That almost made laugh, which was saying a lot given my current mood. The rather dry narration of various company procedures could not possibly be anyone’s idea of titillating material. Ford was teasing, though, and the glint in his eyes made me wish I could respond in kind. I hated having this secret from him, the secret about my dad.
I was already starting to care about Ford, and I didn’t like keeping secrets from people I cared about. Which was ironic since I was keeping the same secret from Cara, too. She’d been just ten when mom first got sick, and she’d always been a daddy’s girl. She loved him to pieces. The worse mom got, the more dad was away, working very long hours. Cara had said she understood, but she was so young. I think that from her perspective, dad was never around anymore, and mom was there but always tired. Always in bed. It was extremely hard on her.
When my dad was arrested, my parents decided not to tell Cara. She was too young to know about the hearings and the trial. When dad went to prison, we told her that he’d gone away for his job. And after mom died, I’d carried on the lie as my parents instructed, telling Cara that dad loved us very much, but he was just too sad to stay here without mom.
It was a lie that haunted me every day. Cara hadn’t mentioned our dad in years, and I never brought it up. I visited him in prison every few months. And I’d pleaded with him many times, including last night, to let me tell Cara the truth. She was old enough to know now. But my dad had always been a proud man. He’d listened eagerly as I told him all about the play she was writing. He asked me dozens of questions about our lives, but insisted again that he didn’t want me to tell Cara anything about him. He still felt he'd failed his family.
Since Cara didn’t even know about our dad, there was no way I could tell Ford before her. Even if I was brave enough to tell him. H
e’d just entered my life, I wasn’t ready for him to exit it yet.
My journey into the past hadn't gone unnoticed by Ford. “Autumn? You seemed preoccupied on Monday, and then you didn’t even work last night. Please tell me what’s going on.”
I sighed, leaning against the car next to him. Technically, I was closer to him now, but I wasn’t facing him, so it was a little easier to talk. “It’s been an… interesting week. A good week, in many ways. Starting the new job. Getting to know Heidi and the others. But also, a hard week. Sometimes my life can get pretty complicated, even before I had a…” I trailed off, not sure how to refer to him. Was he my boyfriend? But we’d been out on exactly one date. Although I guess since Friday night had featured flowers, champagne, and an orgasm, that could count as date two. But still, “boyfriend” was a bit premature. What did that leave? Phone Buddy? Friendly, neighborhood billionaire? Man with the magic tongue?
“Things just get complicated sometimes,” I repeated. “I know that sounds dumb. I’m not in charge of a billion dollar corporation the way you are. But that doesn’t mean my life is easy.”
He put his arm around me. “Of course it doesn’t. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. Looking after your sister. Raising a teenager is hard for two parents to do, let alone one big sister. One who also works two jobs.”
I leaned against him, enjoying the feeling of his arm around my shoulders, holding me close to his side.
“Have you thought about cutting back?” he asked.
I looked up at him quizzically, and he continued. “Well, you’ve got a full-time job now. A good one. Do you still need to work for Sultry Sirens?”
Twisting, I moved out from under his arm, so I could see him better. “I’ve had my new job for all of four days.”
“So? You have a contract. It’s not like Heidi’s going to fire you tomorrow.”
“She could.”
“She won’t. She says you’re a good fit, so far. I just meant, maybe things would be easier if you had your evenings free. If you just had one job. One you didn’t feel you had to hide.”
“You’re the one who said I shouldn’t be ashamed of the work I do there.”
“And you shouldn’t. But wouldn’t your life be easier if you quit?” He must have seen the irritation on my face. “And yeah, I know I’m a huge hypocrite for saying you shouldn’t work there since I’m a customer.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. I know you’re trying to help, Ford, but it’s not your job to fix Cara’s and my life. That’s my job.”
“I’m not trying to fix your life. It’s not broken.”
“The latter’s debatable, and the first is untrue. You’ve gotten me a job, a new door, a week in a hotel. And now you made plans for my sister and me for Saturday without asking me first.” He looked like he was about to interrupt, so I hastily continued. “Yes, it was an amazing thing to do, to get us tickets, but I don’t want her to get used to all this. Luxurious hotels and nights at the theater. It’ll make it that much harder for her when we have to go back to our regularly scheduled lives.” And it would make it that much harder for me, too.
Ford reached out and found my hand. “Cara has a level head on her shoulder. I don’t think the occasional indulgence will spoil her. But you’re right, that’s your call, not mine.”
Breathing out a sigh of relief that he seemed to understand, I squeezed his hand. “Our lives aren’t perfect, but they’re ours. It was good enough before, and it needs to be good enough when you decide it’s time to stop waving your magic wand and granting wishes.”
He chuckled at that. “I still say I want to be Prince Charming, not the fairy godmother.” He caught my other hand and tugged me closer to him. “And who says I’m going anywhere? ‘Cause I’m not.”
He meant that. I could tell that he did, but I still didn’t believe it. Everyone who’d ever tried to help Cara and me had disappeared in the end. And I hadn’t even had such a complicated history with those people. What chance did I have with Ford, given my father’s situation?
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “A simple question. Were you at all happy to see me tonight?”
His question slipped past my defenses and made me melt a little on the inside. What was I doing? This was a good man who’d been nothing but kind to us. He was a gorgeous man, one who against all odds, seemed to be interested in me. He knew nothing about the turmoil I’d been feeling since I found out who he really was. He didn’t deserve this.
In answer, I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around him. He pulled me close and stroked my hair. “Of course,” I breathed, my voice muffled against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Nothing to be sorry for. Whatever you’re feeling, good things, bad things, they’re your feelings. You’re entitled to them. I just wish you’d let me in. Sometimes it seems like I can only find out what you’re thinking when we’re on the phone. But I’d like if we were able to talk—really talk—in person, too.”
“We can. We will. We are,” I said, confusedly. Being this close him, being engulfed in his embrace, feeling the hard muscles of his chest, and inhaling his masculine scent—it wasn’t making it easy to think. Not when he was overwhelming my senses like that.
“Good,” he said, and he waited until I looked up at him. When I did, his lips descended onto mine, and I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in him again.
When we finally came up for air, I moaned softly as he grazed his teeth along my bottom lip before letting go. God, he knew what to do with his mouth. And his hands, which were still wrapped around me, one cupping the back of my head, squeezing my hair. “Wow,” I said softly. “That was nice.” And it really had been. I just wished I could enjoy being with him without worrying that at any moment, he would vanish.
“Yes, it was,” he said, his voice as quiet as mine had been. “I’m really looking forward to this weekend.”
“Me too,” I said. “It’s not just Cara who’s a fan. I love the soundtrack for Hamilton, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked, an eyebrow raised speculatively. “Want to sing something for me?”
“Definitely not,” I said. “But Cara will, if you ask, so better think carefully before doing that.”
“Is she a bad singer?” He sounded surprised.
“No. She’s good. She’s just bad at knowing when to stop.”
He laughed again, and we walked back to the entrance to the apartment building, his arm around me. We shared one more good-night kiss, which lasted almost as long as the one before. “Until Saturday,” he said, in a husky voice.
“Saturday,” I agreed, letting my hand slide from his. And as I went inside, I reflected that I didn’t know what the future held. We probably wouldn’t have much of a future once I told him about my dad, but I was sure this weekend would be amazing.
23
Autumn
“Cara, come on. Ford’s downstairs.” What on earth was taking her so long? Ford had called yesterday and said he had a couple things planned for us today—things no amount of questioning would get him to reveal. He said we should wear normal clothes and pack up our outfits for the theater for tonight. But from the amount of time my sister was taking, you’d think we were leaving home for a month. “We were supposed to be down there at ten. Don’t be such a slowpoke.”
I replayed my last words in my head. Sometimes I felt like Cara’s mother, other times I felt like an older sister being annoyed by her younger sibling. This was definitely one of the latter times. Just to go with it, I stuck my tongue out when she finally made it to the living room, a huge tote bag slung over her shoulder. Since I already had our dresses and shoes, I couldn’t imagine what all she had in there.
“I’m ready,” she said cheerfully. Since we were going to see Hamilton, she probably would have been just as cheery if I’d smacked her in the face with a pillow instead of just sticking my tongue out.
Ford greeted us downstairs, and Jaso
n appeared to take our bags. This was my first time seeing Ford’s right-hand man since the ill-fated phone call last week, and I know my face turned red immediately. But he was his usual, professional self, saying good morning and then disappearing with our things. Ford held the door for us and we all climbed into the same SUV we’d ridden in the night of the break-in.
Once we were moving, Cara launched into a full-fledged Hamilton tutorial for Ford, telling him the basic plot and eagerly exclaiming about the parts she was most looking forward to hearing in person. By the time we were on the highway, she was trying to teach Ford to rap the opening line, a thirty-seven word question that set up the entire premise of the musical. Ford was game, but his attempts to get it right were entertaining, to say the least.
“Not bad,” Cara said, after his fourth try. “You got all the words. Now, you’ve just got to say it in rhythm.”
“I am saying it in rhythm,” Ford complained good-naturedly. Then he recited the opening line again, ending a beat or two early.
“That was better,” Cara said with the patience of the teacher she hoped to someday be. “You just missed one phrase. Here, let me do it and you snap your fingers in time.” Cara chanted the first line perfectly. She pretty much knew every syllable of the entire score. “Good, but you have to snap on the beat, Ford.”
“I was on the beat.”
“But you’re starting too soon. You have to wait. Like this.” She did it again, snapping at the appropriate times.
“The founding fathers must’ve had extraordinary musical timing to do all this,” he said, and Cara giggled again.
“You’ll get it.”
“Maybe you’re aiming too high. My goal is just to understand the musical, not sing along,” Ford said with a grin. “I’m counting on you to make sure I can follow along. Unlike you two, I wasn’t a theater nerd in high school.”
“Oh well,” Cara said. “Nobody’s perfect.”
Charming: A Cinderella Billionaire Story Page 14