Try Me On for Size

by Stephanie Haefner

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I may be just a kid, but in my experience, ‘complicated’ just means you’re too lazy to make it work.”

  “I’m not lazy.”

  “Then you’re scared. Or too busy. Or some other lame excuse.”

  Right about then, it didn’t seem like Kyle was only nineteen. “You’re right.”

  “So why are you sitting here? Why aren’t you with him?”

  “I . . . I just can’t. Too much has happened. It can’t be changed.”

  “Fuck what happened. Forget the past and move on.”

  A man and woman took seats at the bar and Kyle left Mia to serve them. How had he gotten so wise? Or was it just the naïveté of youth? Mia had the knowledge of experience. And now she was more confused than ever.

  She met Kyle’s gaze, forcing a little smile, and waved good-bye. He smiled back. She hoped that meant that even in all the confusion and drama she still had her new friend.

  MIA WOKE early and left her apartment with a mission. She called Bryn to make sure it was okay she came in late. This couldn’t wait and Mia needed to get it done before she lost her nerve.

  It wasn’t even nine when Mia strolled through the main entrance of Montanari Motors, ignoring the greetings of multiple salesmen. She headed for the private office of The Great Antonio Montanari, ignoring his secretary’s attempts to stall her while she buzzed the intercom.

  “No need.” She pushed open the door and, heedless of the phone call he was on, slammed a pile of papers onto his desk. A couple drifted to the floor, but she’d made her point. She meant business.

  “Let me call you back, Sal.”

  He replaced the receiver and glanced at the erotic photos. “What the hell is this crap?”

  “As if you didn’t know.”

  “Get these off my desk.” He pushed them toward her, a disgusted sneer on his lips.

  “Just so you know, your little plan to destroy my shop didn’t work. So all that time you spent organizing this little escapade with one of my models was all for nothing. Our sales shot through the roof after you plastered our Web site and social media with these photos. The entire gay community is now behind us. So maybe I should thank you for helping make the new venture a success.” She flashed her biggest brightest, fakest smile.

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Sure you did. And you got my ex-employee to help you. This was your way of destroying my shop and making me come work for you. Well, guess what? Your stunt could have put us in a crater-sized hole of debt and still I would never work for you. I’d rather work three fast-food jobs than work here.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I did not do this. And I’ve given up the idea of you working for me. I’ve accepted your decision and would never do something this horrid to hurt you. You should know that. I want our family back. That’s why I put out an ad. To lessen the workload here. And when I saw Grant had worked for you, I hired him. If you trusted him to run your finances, he must be a good employee.”

  Mia burst out laughing. “You taking employee recommendations from me? You only hired him because he had an axe to grind. He was the perfect minion to carry out your sick plan. Give the guy a paycheck and a new car, and he’ll do whatever you want.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Mia picked up a photo and held it out. “Doesn’t your new employee look good in leather? Nice touch, by the way. Was that your idea, or his?”

  “Take these away from me.”

  “No, you keep them. A little reminder of what you did.” She turned and strode toward the open door, employees having gathered around, desperate for gossip.

  “Mia, please. Let’s talk about this.”

  “No. We’re done. And while you’re at it, maybe you should just forget you have an older daughter. Riley has always been your prized pupil anyway.”

  Mia stepped through the threshold feeling vindicated. The Great Antonio Montanari had not won.

  “I didn’t do this!” he bellowed from his doorway.

  She kept on walking, the enormous weight of being a Montanari having been lifted from her shoulders. Free and relaxed, she was ready to take on the world. Well, her world of lingerie and sex toys, anyway. She’d spent the whole night brainstorming new ideas for the shop, new ways to accommodate their new customer base. It was a brand-new chapter in her life.

  But as she pulled into the parking lot of the shop, her cell phone rang for the third time. She’d ignored it the other two, mainly because she was driving, but also because she knew it was her father.

  It was a Montanari, but not Antonio. The call came from her parents’ house. She answered it.

  “Mia, it’s your mother. Please tell me what’s going on.”

  “I’m sure Dad can fill you in.”

  “No. He’s beside himself. He doesn’t know what just happened. Please come over so we can talk.”

  “I can’t. I have to get to work.”

  “Mia, I’m begging you.”

  She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. Her mother was on the brink of tears. “I’ll come over to talk to you. And only you. He better not be there.”

  “I promise, just us.”

  CHAPTER Twenty-Eight

  Mia walked into her parents’ house, and was met with complete silence. It had been a long while since she’d been there during the day. No father bellowing. No arguing over the dinner table.

  She remembered what it was like as a kid to move from their modest home to this giant mansion at the edge of town. She’d hated it at first, and never really learned to love it. Most of the kids at school either got weird with her, or suddenly wanted to be best friends and come over for pool parties. Everyone except Bryn. She hadn’t changed one bit when Mia moved, other than the smidgen of disappointment over her no longer living around the corner.

  “Mom?” Mia called.

  “In here.” The voice traveled from the kitchen.

  Mia found her mother there, mixing a batch of something. Definite stress baker.

  “I can’t stay long. I have to get to the shop. Business is better than it’s ever been.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Is that how you really feel?”

  “Of course.” She rinsed her hands and dried them on a kitchen towel. “We truly do want you to succeed.”

  “You maybe. Not Dad. But I never thought he’d do what he did.”

  “Mia, he’s really upset. He has no idea where those photos came from.”

  “Of course he’s denying it. It would have been a miracle if he’d actually confessed.”

  “He’s telling the truth. We spoke about you barely a few days ago. He loves you and misses you. We’re not exactly young anymore and we’ve wasted enough time arguing. He truly wants to be a family again, and promised to stop asking you to work for him. He wants to put all that nastiness behind us.”

  “That’s a lie. Last time I called Riley, she told me he forbid her from talking to me. She wouldn’t even let me see Gianna.”

  Mia’s mother sighed. “I know. I thought it was awful of him to do that, and I told him so. It was somewhat of a wake-up call for him. He realized how terrible he’s been acting. A father shouldn’t treat his children that way.”

  Mia didn’t know what to believe. “There’s no one else who would want to destroy the shop.”

  “He never wanted that. He just wanted you. Can’t blame a father for wanting to pass his legacy to his children.”

  “Yeah, I can. If I don’t want it.”

  Mia’s mother sighed and pulled out two small cake pans, pouring equal amounts of batter into them. “Why don’t you come for dinner tonight and the three of us will talk.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Ple
ase? I’m making your favorite dessert.”

  Mia’s mouth watered thinking about lemon cake with homemade raspberry filling. “I can’t. At least not now. I’m too mad.”

  After scraping every last bit of batter from the sides of the bowl, Mia’s mother looked up at her, sadness in her eyes. “I understand. I just wish you weren’t so stubborn. You’re just like your father.”

  Rage bubbled in her chest. She hated being compared to her father, especially after he’d done something so immensely heinous. “I’m nothing like him.”

  “You’re a lot more alike than either of you will admit. And I just don’t know what to do anymore. This whole family is falling apart. It was never supposed to be like this.” She turned and set the bowl in the sink. “The business and the money was supposed to make our lives better, not tear them apart.”

  Mia’s anger subsided and she went to her mother. Even though none of this had anything to do with her, she could see how badly it hurt her. Mia hugged her, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

  “He was supposed to be retired by now. We had so many plans.” She rubbed Mia’s back even though Mia was supposed to be the one doing the consoling. “We were going to buy a giant RV and drive all around the country, just the two of us.”

  “You can still do that.”

  She pulled away and wiped her eyes with a napkin. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Mia left the house, wanting to believe what her mother had said. Could it be true? Had she been wrong about who was behind the scandal?

  She didn’t know what to believe and wished there was some magic wand she could wave and make everything better. Make her dad be the guy she remembered, the guy she needed. A father who supported his kids no matter what. Not one who created elaborate schemes to take them down.

  If that’s even what he did. She was so confused.

  With the car windows open, the wind blew through her hair and lifted her mood somewhat. She needed to put the morning behind her and move on.

  Her cell phone rang as she drove. She wanted to ignore it and just keep driving, but it was the shop.

  “Hey,” Bryn said, her tone not exactly as chipper as usual.

  “What’s wrong? More complaints at the store?”

  “Oh, no. Everything is fine here. Great actually. Steady flow this morning.”

  “Still all men?”

  “Mostly. But that’s not what I called for. I just talked to Oliver. He can’t come in today. His mom is in the hospital. He says it’s not good.”

  OLIVER SAT in the waiting room and sipped his cold hospital coffee. When he’d gotten it, it had been so hot he couldn’t drink it. So he’d lifted the lid and set it down, vowing to rest his eyes only a few minutes. But forty-five minutes passed before he’d opened them again. He’d been there since three in the morning, when his father had called.

  He could probably go back into his mother’s room now. The nurse had kicked him out almost an hour before for tests and such. He didn’t want her worrying that he had left.

  Standing and stretching, Oliver tossed his coffee cup and walked toward room 1120. The door opened just as he reached it.

  “Dr. Campbell. How is she?”

  “Resting comfortably.”

  He nodded. “How long until we can take her home?”

  The doctor paused before answering. Not good. “Her heart just isn’t responding to the medications any longer.”

  Oliver knew this day would come, but it didn’t make it even remotely easier. “So what do we do now?”

  “There isn’t much. All we can do is make her comfortable.”

  Ginny hated hospitals. She’d been in and out of them the last fifteen years of her life. Oliver couldn’t let her die in one. “Can we do that at home?”

  “I’m not sure. She needs constant care and monitoring.”

  “You know money is no object. Can we make it happen?”

  “There’s equipment and furniture you’ll need. But I’ll look into it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Oliver watched Dr. Campbell walk away, then breathed deep before entering his mother’s room. She lay there, asleep, in her favorite nightgown. Her hair was brushed and flowed around her head. He’d rarely seen her like that. Normally it was pinned back in a twist sort of thing. He liked her like this. Angelic.

  Oliver sat in a chair near the bed and tried to get comfortable. Maybe he’d let himself doze off again.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Her voice was soft, weak, as she breathed deeply from the tubes stretched across her cheeks. “I didn’t want to deal with any more doctors or nurses so I pretended I was asleep.”

  He leaned forward and took her hand, kissing it, and smiled. “Don’t waste your voice on me.”

  “You’re worth it. How are things with Mia?”

  “Let’s not talk about that.”

  “Please. I’ve been thinking about you two constantly.”

  How could he deny her anything right then? “Well, I’m not really sure where I stand with her. So much has happened the last few days. Her business was doing well, and then everything fell apart. We tried to find a solution, together. I thought she was starting to trust me again, but I was wrong.”

  “Then you must try harder.”

  He shook his head. “Let’s not talk about this. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “I’ll worry no matter what. I can’t leave until I know you’ll be taken care of.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Oliver blinked back his tears and forced his lips into a smile. “I’ll be just fine.”

  The door opened and Oliver’s father walked in. He looked to him briefly, then took a seat on the other side of Ginny. “You can go now.”

  “I’m not leaving.” Oliver squeezed his mother’s hand again.

  “I only called you because your mother refused to cooperate unless I did. But we no longer need you.”

  “As I already said, I’m not leaving.”

  “The last thing she needs is you and your embarrassing scandal right now.”

  “Please stop,” Ginny said, her chest heaving from using a louder voice.

  Oliver glared at his father for having made her do that. “Can we talk in the hall?”

  He didn’t answer, just stood and left the room.

  Making sure the door was securely closed before speaking, Oliver turned to his father. “I’m a grown man and you will not tell me I can’t see my mother.”

  “So cocky, you are. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? The humiliation you’ve caused? Recalling all those wedding invitations. I can’t even go to the country club without someone making a joke about you in your underwear.”

  Oliver’s hand curled into a fist and he fought to keep it at his side. “I don’t give a shit about you. I care about her.”

  “Really? You don’t think this debacle has put stress on her heart?”

  Oliver’s confidence waned. He knew his father had him there. “Yes. I know it has. But I talked to her and explained. She understands.”

  “Yes, but now all I hear is how worried she is for you. Wondering if you’ll be happy. Bullshit she shouldn’t be worrying about on her deathbed. All you’re doing is burdening her with your problems right now.”

  Was he burdening her? He just wanted to help her die in peace without wondering if he’d be all right once she was gone. He never would be, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “You need to leave . . . now,” his father insisted.

  Oliver stepped toward the door. “Let me say good-bye.”

  “No.” His father grabbed his arm. “Just go.”

  Oliver shook free from the old man’s grasp. He could have forced his way into his mother’s room, but the last thing she needed was to see more animosity between the two men in her life. “Fine.”

  He glanced o
ver his father’s shoulder, a brunette standing but a few feet away with a small vase of flowers. It took only a nanosecond to realize who it was, the sight of her like a warm summer breeze, calming him.

  Mr. Christiansen turned to see what was so intriguing behind him. “Well, if it isn’t the porn peddler herself.”

  He walked away before Oliver could say anything, heading toward the nurse’s station. Oliver felt bad for the hospital staff, but at least there was someone else for his father to aggravate for the moment.

  Suppressing his anger, he focused on Mia and smiled. “Hi.”

  “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

  “No. You didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

  “A little. Felt familiar. Kinda like my dad.”

  “How’d that go today?”

  “As expected. He denied it.”

  “You believe him?”

  “Oh, no. I just need to find someone else to prove he was behind it.”

  “Yeah. We should try and track down that Chris guy. How many can there be at the only gay club in town?”

  Mia smiled at him. “You’re not tracking anybody down. You have more important things to take care of right now.” She glanced at the closed door. “How is she?”

  “All we can do now is make her comfortable, but she’s in good spirits. Still worrying about me, though.”

  “That’s what moms are for.”

  “I know.” Oliver blinked away tears. What was he going to do once his was gone? “Wanna meet her?”

  “I’d be honored.”

  MIA FOLLOWED Oliver into the hospital room, and when he reached for her hand, she hadn’t the heart to deny him the comfort he so obviously needed. His mother lay in the bed, propped on pillows, looking exactly how Mia had expected. Beautiful and elegant, even in a floral nightgown.

  “Mom,” he said and she turned to them. “This is Mia.”

  Mrs. Christensen met Mia’s eyes, her gaze traveling to their entwined fingers, then back again, the biggest smile bowing her thin lips. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Mia matched her smile. “Nice to meet you, too. I brought these to brighten your room. I hope you like tulips and hydrangeas.”