After I caught Richard cheating on me six months later, she took me out to lunch and promised me that no matter what Richard had done or would do in the future, she’d always be there for me and the baby. She even worked with my mother to throw me the most incredible baby shower, and she ignored her husband and her son when they tried putting the idea into her head that the baby might not be Richard’s.
And when he was off getting drunk at a party while I was in labor, Ana showed up at the hospital. For almost seventeen hours straight, she stayed on one side of my bed while my mom was on the other. Both of them reminded me to breathe, promising me it would all be over soon as I cried out in pain when it came time to push. To this day, I’m not sure who cried more when they held Lina in their arms for the first time.
The next day, Richard Sr. joined his wife with flowers and an apology, and he’s certainly made up for his behavior since then. They’ve never missed one of Lina’s birthdays or school events, and they both make it to every Saturday morning soccer game. Lina even spends almost every Saturday night at Gigi and Papa’s house.
Every August, Lina spends a week at Martha’s Vineyard with Ana and her sisters. Each time, they wrap their weeklong vacation with a big back-to-school shopping trip with Papa. I’ve never had to pay for a backpack, lunchbox, or school supply. It’s never done with expectation or acknowledgment. Neither one has ever thrown it in my face or asked for anything in return.
And, when I called Ana last month, asking her to be by my side on my trip to New York, she didn’t hesitate to say yes. We spent hours after that initial meeting hammering out the details and making necessary revisions to the contract before our second meeting with Alfie West and the network attorney.
Ana was by my side as I signed my name on the line.
Ana was the one that took me out for dinner to celebrate.
And, she’s here now, taking time out of her day for a meeting she won’t be paid for.
It’s not her fault that her son had, once again, made promises he had no intention of keeping.
“I’m so sorry, Ana,” I begin, exhaling as a wave of guilt comes over me. “This is just so important to me and Richard knew—”
“Oh, stop it,” she starts. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me.”
Pausing as she opens the restaurant door, a knowing smile settles on her bright red lips. “But if they ask, let’s just say you had car trouble, okay?”
As soon as she turns her back to me, I allow myself the smallest sigh of relief. The fleeting moment is only temporary though. The nerves I’ve managed to push aside make their presence known again in the mere seconds that follow.
It’s all still so surreal to me. I have a show on Food Network. The press release announcing Halfway Homemade will go live tomorrow. Which means I need to tell my family tonight—something I’ve been holding off on. I wanted to wait until I knew it was for sure.
Despite going to New York City, signing a contract, and seeing the largest direct deposit I’ve ever seen hit my bank account, I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m still not convinced that at any moment now, someone won’t wake me up and tell me this is all a dream.
A cool burst of air hits me the moment we step over the threshold. The late September heat wave that has everyone using their air conditioning—for hopefully the last time this year—is on its fourth day. After being teased by a few days of cooler fall-like weather last week, I was more than ready to welcome my favorite season.
Afraid the thick humid air sucked all of the moisture out of my hair and sent it into its natural wavy frizz, I begin to pat it down.
As soon as I confirm that I don’t look like the Lion King, I take in my surroundings. The combination of apple and cinnamon lingering around us intensifies my desire for cooler temperatures, pretty foliage, and switching out my current footwear for my broken-in, cozy Ugg boots.
The Farmhouse isn’t open to the public yet, but I guess when you’re the Food Network, getting the most anticipated new restaurant around to open their doors early just for you is no massive feat.
The inside of the farm-to-table themed restaurant is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Instead of small booths and individual tables, the open space is filled with rows of rustic wooden picnic tables. There isn’t much time to take in the photographs of vegetables, fruits, and farm animals that cover the walls, because a bubbly blonde greets us with an ear-to-ear smile before leading us to the only occupied table in the restaurant.
Before either man—both in suits—stands to greet us, I open my mouth to apologize for being late, but I freeze when the darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen lock with mine.
There’s something unnerving about our connection, the world suddenly spinning faster and stopping, simultaneously. The contradiction leaves me at a loss for words.
“You’re late.”
2
Ryan
There are three things I believe when it comes to conducting business.
Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable.
Which is why when my alarm went off at three forty-five this morning, I dragged myself out of bed, showering quickly before waking up—was it Kayley…? No, Bailey! I shooed her out the door under the false pretense that I would “hit her up when I returned from my business trip.”
The lie left a sour taste in my mouth as I locked the door of my flat, unsure exactly when I’d return. The flight from LaGuardia to Logan Airport in Boston lasted a little over an hour. Even with the twenty-minute drive from the airport to the hotel, there were five hours before the lunchtime meeting I was being forced to attend.
I still don’t know why Alfie insisted on this meeting today. The show doesn’t start filming until next week. He’d sent me photos of the set and forwarded me all the quotes from the people working to get it ready, so I knew exactly where the money was going.
He’d already met with Carina and her attorney. The contracts were signed. I didn’t need to be on set, since there was nothing stopping me from producing remotely. Alfie could have been the face of West Brothers Productions, while I could have been searching for our next project right now.
In my mind, that was the plan as soon as Carina refused to budge on the one amendment she had made to the contract.
The show needed to be filmed in Massachusetts—or not at all. That was her only stipulation.
If it had been up to me, that would have been it. I would have walked away right then. But Alfie had laid the little brother guilt on thick.
“You said we were in this together.”
Dressed in a white blouse tucked into chic straight-legged black trousers, Carina looks different from the YouTube videos I’ve spent hours watching—all for research, of course.
Her typical yoga pants, oversized T-shirts, and the “Soccer Mom Hair, Don’t Care” baseball cap she often wore made Carina feel real to her followers—and relatable. Even behind a screen, there was no questioning her beauty; that’s for damn sure.
However, having a pretty face and curves in all the right places doesn’t excuse someone from showing up late to a business meeting.
“I think what Ryan is trying to say,” my younger brother begins, breaking the silence before shooting me a look of warning, “is that he’s heard me say such wonderful things about you and is very excited to meet you.”