Whatever Haylo said to her mom after that was heated and whispered. I was definitely overstaying my welcome. I made a move to slip out, when a new voice cut in.
“Oh. My. God.” It was a loud and very New Yawk voice. “Haylo, honey. Your boyfriend is here!” A blond with perfectly beachy shoulder-length waves barreled toward Haylo. She enveloped Ethan and Haylo in an air hug.
Haylo sighed, not looking at Ethan. “Friends. Remember? Hey, so Pru, this is Ethan’s friend Amelia. She’s a stylist.”
Pru, who was at least five or six years older than us, stepped back and gave me the once-over. “No offense girl, but you look like you’re still in high school.”
“I am still in high school.”
A deep throaty laugh burst from her. “Let me guess—Haylo recruited you? Hay, I don’t know why you have to be so unconventional all the time.”
Before either Haylo or I could respond, the other two blondes bounded over. “Hi,” a girl somewhere between Haylo and Pru’s age said to me. “I’m Fayth, with a ‘y.’”
The other girl looked maybe twelve-years-old. “I’m Nevayeh. That’s heaven spelled backward. Also with a ‘y.’”
“And we have a brother in college who’s spending the summer in Amsterdam,” Haylo finished.
I had to wonder what his name was. And how it was spelled.
“Girls, we need to go,” Mrs. Lohman announced. “Photo shoot tomorrow, and we have dinner plans tonight.”
“I’ll catch up with you,” Haylo said to her mom and sisters.
All the blondes vacated the atrium except for Haylo, leaving her, Ethan, and me standing together while an overcast sky shadowed the room.
“So, now you know about the show,” Ethan deadpanned. “We’ve had to keep details quiet. The TV people get pretty serious about leaks.”
“Right,” I said. “The show. And my role as style consultant.”
Haylo teetered toward me on her fab heels. She grabbed my hands, clutching them. “I’m so, so sorry. I really am. I panicked. My life is going to be on TV. They’re calling the show Savings and Lohmans because my family’s business is mergers and banking. I guess we’re interesting, since we’ve got five kids all with ‘unique’ names.” She let go of my hands and folded her arms, pacing. “The producers want us to be the next Kardashians. As if everyone isn’t already trying to be the next Kardashians. I’m freaking out.”
A reality show. Filming at the Laurentis. A detail Liam surely could have explained better or at all. He’d made it seem like nothing. This was big. Huge!
“Haylo’s family is living in a rental now while their house is being renovated,” Ethan explained. “The filming here was supposed to be a onetime deal, but the location scouts loved it. I’m definitely sticking around. It’s good business for the property.”
The property, like the Laurenti estate? Or the property, like their family? “Wow, that sounds very … businesslike.”
“It’s all about connections.” Ethan nodded with the sweetest earnestness. “Haylo knows. This show will set them up with all kinds of opportunities.”
“What if,” Haylo said, and slowly pivoted toward me. “What if you were my style consultant? You want to go to fashion school, right? Ethan said so. That’s great experience. I’m sure we can get you on the payroll.”
A paying fashion job? Practically in my own backyard?
Des’s words floated back. They’re like catnip to you. “Thanks for letting me play stylist, but I’m sure your TV show has people for that. They’ll know way more than I ever would.” I was still hung up on a reality show filming at the house, let alone how I could help someone as fashion savvy as this girl.
Haylo’s expression switched pleading. “I just want someone who won’t turn me into a joke. Someone I trust. I’ve known Ethan for forever, and he vouches for you.”
He vouches for you. My heart yearned to play those words over and over. Ethan knew things about me. He believed things about me. I focused on the swirling patterns in the marble floor. Gray and white mixing together effortlessly. Maybe it wasn’t such an impossibility to mix my life with his. Our different worlds were coming together, one piece at a time.
The faintest scent of catnip crept into my senses. Okay, I was standing in an atrium full of plants. I was smelling plants. The Laurentis didn’t even own a cat.
I’d told myself I wouldn’t fall back into my old Ethan-devoted ways. Des would kill me. Maya would kill me after that.
Except I hadn’t sought out Ethan. He’d found me. And this wasn’t really about Ethan, it was about his friend. Who needed fashion help. I was practically buzzing with ideas I’d picked up in New York. I could only imagine how a reality show might portray a bubbly but nervous blonde named Haylo. They’d make her into a ditz. So far, she seemed friendly and not so much an airhead.
I couldn’t look at Ethan. I couldn’t look at his smooth olive skin, his muscled arms, his smirky grin, his jazzed expression about the TV filming. I couldn’t or catnip would win.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Haylo, willing every bit of confidence from the past few weeks to surface. I spoke with determination. Resolve. “But, I don’t think I’m the right girl.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Power. I experienced true power walking away from Ethan.
The sensation felt so new, so different. After years invested in Ethan’s life, to turn down the chance to see him more, to be involved with him and his friends, well, I really deserved recognition for that type of progress.
I called Maya. I told her about the reality show and Ethan’s invitation to help Haylo as a personal fashion adviser. I unscrewed my favorite nail polish and propped my foot on the edge of my bed. I didn’t even have my curtains open. Because I didn’t care about the reality show and all the comings and goings at the Laurenti house. Nope. Didn’t care!
Maya cleared her throat. “So, you’re saying you’re not obsessed with Ethan anymore?”
I cringed at her use of obsessed. “Seeing Ethan today, for once, I was in control. I’m not the same person as I was before I left for New York.”
I clicked the speakerphone option and went for a second coat of polish while I explained the party with Ethan and Liam. I glossed over the part where he made out with the blond girl, because as much as I wanted to be totally over Ethan, that detail felt like pressing on a still-fresh bruise. “All that to say, I built Ethan into someone he isn’t. I get that now.”
“Wow, that’s a lot,” she said. “Good to hear, too, because I have something to tell you.”
Given I’d stood half a foot from the boy of my dreams and strut off like I owned my own personal catwalk, I could handle anything. “Sure.”
“Ethan is dating Haylo Lohman.”
I paused from stroking my pinkie toe with the plum-colored polish. “What? No, they’re just friends. I heard them say as much. Besides, I told you about Haylo. How do you know about Haylo?”
“Sara at work told me a new reality show is taping here and then showed me some pics online from some charity event. Ethan was standing next to a girl named Haylo—spelled with a “y” if you can believe. Basically, I was super freaked to tell you, but if you say you’re over Ethan, I believe you. When we were out the other night, you didn’t even mention him.”
Now I was more curious. “What else did Sara find out?”
“Just that the Lohmans know the Laurentis because they have vacation homes in the Hampers. That’s how they met.”
“The Hamptons,” I corrected. Rare to never did Maya have Laurenti intel I didn’t already know. If the families knew each other from vacationing in New York, maybe the blond girl he’d been kissing at the warehouse party was Haylo. I went ahead and told Maya about seeing Ethan kiss someone. She’d been through it all with me, so no need to hold back.
“Even better you didn’t offer to help her then. Awkward.”
Yeah. Awkward for sure.
My planner pages and custom stickers were spread out across
the kitchen table for an epic planning session. Never mind I sat out here because my room was such a mess.
The back door opened, and Mami burst in, her arms loaded with bags. Normally, I would jump up to help. Normally, she wasn’t parading around the estate in minidresses, secret keeping. She could ask me if she needed help.
One of the bags slipped and dumped bananas and boxed instant rice on the floor.
Abuelita blew past me toward the door. “Now you’re not helping your mamá? Did you turn spoiled in New York?”
The nerve of me daring to act spoiled. I dragged myself up and took one of the bags. Fine, I would help, but it was time for some answers. Abuelita retreated down the hall, followed by the creak of folding doors opening the closet where our washer and dryer were housed.
“So. When were you going to tell me you’re doing more for the Laurentis than cleaning their house?” I fired the question cannonball style. I couldn’t stop myself.
“Gigi needed help when the TV producers contacted her. She knew I had catering experience. It’s only temporary.”
“But why didn’t you tell me? That seems cool. You didn’t have to hide it.” I peeked into a bag and pulled out graham crackers and a can of tomatoes.
“Like I said, it’s temporary only while shooting here at the estate. They have a professional catering service for the rest of filming.”
“Why can’t you be the professional caterer?”
She tossed the reusable grocery sack on the pile above the recycling box. “Come on, Mila. You know why. I don’t run my own business.”
“So, put one together. Desiree wrote a business plan and she’s already contacted retailers to add clothes to her family’s gift shop. You already have a plan.”
“It’s not that easy. There are licenses to obtain. Staff to hire—I can’t do that in a week. I’m only helping in a pinch. There’s a lot to coordinate and I thought to lend a hand.”
“But you could—”
“Mila!” Mami stepped back at her own raised voice. “Sorry. Don’t push me on this.”
When did anyone ever push her? I let the cupboard swing shut with a loud clatter. “I wish you’d push yourself the way you pushed me to go to New York.”
She shook her head and jerked open the fridge door. “Not fair. It’s not the same.”
The more I thought about it, the more exactly the same our situations seemed. If I could move on from Ethan Laurenti, then she could move forward with her business. It was always some excuse with her, and right now the opportunity was right in front of her and she was letting someone else take over. “You know what? You’re hiding, too. You have your business degree, and you’ve been saving money. I didn’t understand what a business plan was until I saw Desiree’s, so you’re a lot further along than I thought. You’ve been talking about your business for as long as I can remember, but you never do anything about it.”
“Don’t tell me what I should do.” She still faced the inside of the refrigerator, but her voice came across clear and firm. She turned, and a strand from her pinned-up hair drifted across her face. She tucked it behind her ear, pulled it forward, and then back again. She let the fridge door close. “I’m dating someone.”
I actually rubbed my ear, thinking I’d misheard. “What?”
“I started dating someone while you were away. It happened out of nowhere. It wasn’t planned.”
“Okay,” I answered slowly, not making the connection between this totally noteworthy news and the catering.
“Your ’buela didn’t want me to say anything, so I didn’t. She doesn’t approve—not about the job or the guy”
“Geez, why do you care if she approves?”
She sighed, leaning back against the counter. “I never wanted to be one of those mothers. You know, the ones who bring different guys around. What if we didn’t work out? That’s not what I wanted for you.”
A hurt pitted in my gut. She held off on her business for me. Now she was saying she didn’t date because of me? “What if there’s someone out there for you?”
“You are my priority, always. When you were home sick and sleeping, I knew you were here, needing me. I could take care of you. When you were gone, the house was quiet. So quiet.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. She worked so hard every day. Working two jobs where she cleaned up after other people. “I shouldn’t have left. I could have been here for you.”
“No.” Her head shot up. She looked me dead in the eye and just like that, the air shifted. “I needed to see a quiet house for what it was. Time for me to do something more. I am trying, Mila. It’s just taking awhile.”
Okay, I could go for that. “So, the guy. Who is he?”
“Ah.” She peeked through the window in the kitchen. “Right after you left, the producers came by the house, asking about shooting for the reality show. This producer was talking to me, and I told him about a street festival in Little Havana, you know for scouting locations. We went together to check it out.” Her expression shifted to a smile. “I visited him at the production office a few times. It might be turning into a job, if I want it, coordinating services for the production crew.”
“What’s Abuelita’s problem with the job?”
“Oh, she likes to make up reasons.” In a mature move, she rolled her eyes. “She’s loyal to the Laurentis. She thinks it’s a conflict. She’s the one who’s always saying I should do more with my life.” She shook her head. “The guy—his name is Alex. He loves Miami and wants to stay here.”
Stay here … Like, stay here for her? Stay where, with us?
Her always active mom-dar picked up on my awkward reaction frequencies. “No worries, Mila. This is slow. I told Alex you come first. Always.”
“Can I meet him?”
“Soon,” she said.
Mami dating was totally fine. I wanted her to be happy. But Mami working for the Lohman’s show? Abuelita might have a point. This whole Laurenti-Lohman deal was really beginning to take over. Almost like I couldn’t escape the Laurentis in any corner of my life.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A catering job kept me busy the next day, as Mami subbed me in for her on the roster of an anniversary party at a banquet hall. Catering equals paycheck equals fabric supplies and fall clothes shopping. It also got me out of the house, where I wouldn’t be tempted to nose around at the Laurentis.
By the time I got home, the bottoms of my feet felt like a hundred bees landed stinger first into them. All I wanted was to binge-watch last season’s Project Runway All Stars with my feet dunked in a tub of hot water and lavender salts.
I shed my ugly service uniform for yoga pants and a tank and collapsed on the couch. I’d turned off my phone per catering company policy, and only now turned it on. Yikes! A ton of texts waited for me from Des and Maya. I had messages from Amy, too, with pics of her at the latest con. She started a cosplay Instagram and wanted to talk strategies.
I still hadn’t told Amy the truth about Ethan, which probably wasn’t fair. Okay, for sure not fair. I couldn’t be sure Amy would be cool with the truth like Des. Besides, I was too tired right now to think about it. Maybe later.
Then, texts from Liam.
I’m ready for you
I mean testing. The app testing. Is tonight good?
The app! Gah, of course he was ready the same night I exhausted myself filling endless miniature stainless steel pitchers with commercial-grade ranch dressing. What was up with banquet partygoers and their obsession with ranch? Hot sauce I could understand, but ranch? Blech.
A knock sounded at the door. Anyone we invited over always came to the back by our parking space. The front door was purely decorative in this house. I wasn’t even sure it worked.
I hauled myself up, feeling like an old sack of bones, and unlocked the door.
“Oh. Hi.” Liam stood on our front stoop.
He shifted weight from one foot to the other. “Uh, hey. Sorry, am I interrupting? You’re probably busy.”
>
Liam’s clothes were so profoundly wrinkled it was like he’d fallen asleep fully dressed and then kept on wearing the same clothes through the next day. He caught me staring and smoothed his hands against his shirt and cargo shorts.
“Sorry,” I said. For the staring. “Come in?”
A Laurenti had never set foot in our house that I could remember. Maybe Gigi had, back when I was a little kid, but never Ethan or Liam. For sure never Mr. Laurenti.
“I’ve never seen the inside of your place before.”
Our living room-slash-dining-area-slash-also-the-kitchen-over-there suddenly felt incredibly small filtered through Liam’s eyes. Our whole apartment could fit into their three-and-a-half-car garage.
“Is it okay I’m here?” He craned his neck toward the hall, where the doors opened to empty bedrooms.
No one else home and a boy was over. Except the boy was Liam. I couldn’t see either Abuelita or Mami taking issue. “Of course. We’re good.”
I’d never felt this nervous in front of Liam. I knew how to act around him at his family’s house. A behavior code existed for when I visited the Laurentis. Here, in my own house, I let down my guard. I didn’t know how to be both versions of me at the same time.
“So, how should we start?” I asked. “Oh, you probably want something to drink. What can I get you?”
“No, no it’s fine. You don’t have to s—” he cut himself off. “I’m not thirsty. I’m good.”
I cracked a smile. “You were going to say I don’t have to serve you, weren’t you?”
Liam’s face shaded three times more pink. It was sort of sweet how embarrassed he was over the blunder. I couldn’t help laughing.
“It’s not, I didn’t mean—” He shook his head, his focus on the woven rug at his feet. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.”
I stopped laughing. “Why would you think that?”
He looked at me, worry in his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, the color was not the same as Ethan’s, whose irises were steel gray. Liam’s had flecks of green. “I wanted to offer to pay you, because I’ll be using your expertise. It’s only fair to exchange that expertise for payment. But then I thought you’d think that was like hiring you to work for me, and that felt wrong, too. Not that I wouldn’t want to hire you, but it’s not …” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should go.”
Alterations Page 14
