His eyes widened. Then he smiled. “Very nice.”
“And I passed my GED.” In spite of her best efforts, hurt filled her voice. “I sent you a message. I wanted you to be proud of me.”
“I was proud. I knew you could do it.”
“But you ignored me!”
“I told Marnie to arrange flowers. Didn’t she send them?”
Her eyes narrowed. “No. She didn’t.”
His jaw, dark with a five o’clock shadow, tightened. “You need to get over your irrational hatred for her, Lola.”
Her eyes went wide. “Irrational!”
“She thought I had the right to know about your past. Both as your employer and as your lover.”
“She’s a smug know-it-all!” Lola thought of all the times Marnie had put her down for her lack of education, implying she wasn’t smart enough for her job. “She wasn’t doing it for your sake. She was trying to get rid of me!”
His expression shuttered. “Stop blaming her for your own bad choices. She’s not the one with half-naked pictures, or who tried to sell herself at eighteen to be a star.”
“I never tried to sell myself!” Lola cried, her hands tightening on her baby, who was fidgeting in her arms.
Rodrigo looked at her incredulously. “I saw the pictures. Why won’t you admit the rest?”
Pain burst through her. She turned away, trembling. Carefully, she set Jett down in his baby play gym, leaving him to batt happily at colorful dangling toys. Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten. Then she faced Rodrigo.
“I didn’t try to sell myself to be a star,” she said in a low voice. “I was just desperate for money.”
He snorted. “If you think that sounds better—”
“Just shut up a minute, will you!”
He fell silent. Her hands clenched at her sides.
“I told you my sisters and I were split up into foster care...” Her voice trailed off as she remembered how, at fifteen, with her mother dead and her stepfather gone, the social workers had pulled her from her half sisters, then only five and three. The little girls had cried and screamed, clinging to Lola, begging her not to let them go. Their screams haunted Lola for the next three years.
“Yes?” he said.
She shook her head. “I promised I’d get them back as soon as I could, so we could be a family again. The day I turned eighteen, I dropped out of high school and moved to LA hoping to make enough money. My plan was to be a movie star. I failed.”
“Most actors do fail,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I know that now.” She flashed him a tremulous smile. “Plus, you know what a bad liar I am. I couldn’t act my way out of a paper bag. I’d always been told I was pretty, but Los Angeles is full of pretty girls. Then I met a man who said he was an agent, and could make me a star. I let him take pictures of me in lingerie. He said they were test shots.”
Folding his arms, Rodrigo was silent, watching her. Not meeting his eyes, Lola forced herself to continue.
“He sent me to a hotel suite, supposedly to meet with a producer. But the man didn’t even bother letting me read for the part.” Her cheeks went hot. “He tried to rip off my clothes and hold me down on the bed.”
Rodrigo growled. Looking up, she saw waves of fury visible around him, from his tight shoulders and hard eyes.
“I kicked him in the groin and ran from the hotel room. He shouted after me that I’d never work in Hollywood again.” She looked down at the floor. “And I didn’t.”
Rodrigo came toward her. “I’m sorry.”
She swallowed hard, imagining she saw pity in his eyes. “Marnie must have spoken with my old agent to get the photographs. But she got the story wrong. I never tried to seduce anyone for a role.” She gave a low laugh, wiping her eyes. “In fact, the whole experience was so awful I avoided being alone with men for years. Until—” She lifted her gaze.
His dark eyes burned through her. “Until me?”
She lowered her head. “Later, I almost wished I’d just given the man what he wanted. Because by the time I earned enough as a secretary, it was too late.”
“Too late?”
Lola turned away, toward the great room’s windows. For a moment, she stared out past the terrace and slender palm trees toward the white sand and blue ocean. “Too late to get my family back.”
Her heart hurt as she remembered how, after she’d finally earned enough to get her own apartment without roommates, she’d rushed to visit her sisters, to tell them they could all finally be together. She’d been nearly weeping with joy and relief.
But she found Kelsey and Johanna, now nine and six, pedaling gleaming new bikes on a perfect street in front of a new two-story house in the LA suburbs, as their golden retriever bounded in the sunshine.
“What happened?” Rodrigo said.
“They didn’t remember me,” Lola said in a low voice. “When I told them I’d be taking them to come live with me, they started crying and clung to their foster mother. The woman started yelling at me. And I found out—”
“Found out?”
“My stepfather had already relinquished his parental rights from prison.” Her shoulders sagged. “They’d just been permanently adopted by their foster family.” She took a deep breath. “I started yelling and crying. The parents were so scared of me, they moved away. To New York.”
“Lola,” he said softly.
Suddenly, she couldn’t hold back her tears.
“I lost my family, Rodrigo,” she choked out. “I failed.”
For the first time in her adult life, she let someone see her cry, not a pretty cry either, but ugly and raw. Without a word, Rodrigo pulled her into his strong arms. For long moments, he just held her, stroking her hair as she wept against his shirt.
Finally, her sobs faded. Silence fell. With her cheek pressed against his chest, she could feel the steady, comforting beat of his heart.
“You didn’t fail them, Lola,” he said in a low voice. “You tried your best, when you were barely more than a kid yourself. You need to stop blaming yourself.” He gently kissed the top of her head. “You’ll hear from them soon.”
Drawing back, she said breathlessly, “You think so?”
“Definitely.” He gave her a crooked grin. “After the present you gave them, I don’t see how they could resist.”
Wiping her eyes, she gave a small laugh, like a sob.
Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. “And you have a new family now,” he whispered. “Jett.” His eyes met hers. “Me.”
Their eyes locked. “You’re my family?”
“I want to be,” he said quietly, then shook his head. “Obviously I’m not very good at it. But I’ve never had one before.”
“What are you talking about? You had parents. You were rich. You inherited a fortune—”
A flash of emotion crossed his hard, handsome face, but was quickly veiled. “Being wealthy isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.”
Rodrigo had been hurt, too, she realized. Somehow, in his childhood, he’d been