Chapter 8

Alex

" I don't know," I said, brushing imaginary lint off my shirt sleeve. "It's strange. It took me so many years to figure out that I'm different, and now I'm frightened to act on my feelings."

"Different?" Summer's brows drew together. "You're gay, and it's the twenty-first century now. It's not a big deal."

"According to Mom and Dad, I should've been married to Lisa and had a couple of kids by now." I referred to my college girlfriend, who figured out I was gay before I did.

Summer reached out and placed a comforting hand on my arm. "Our parents may have expectations, but your happiness comes first. You deserve to live authentically, no matter what anyone else thinks." She smiled softly, her eyes full of understanding.

"Thank you, Summer. I just wish it were that easy."

She gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. "It may not be easy, but it will be worth it. You deserve to love and be loved for who you truly are. But enough about that, let's talk about this guy. You have never expressed an interest in anyone before, and…"

"He's not interested in me any longer," I sighed. "As soon as he discovered my name isn't Knox Steele, and that I wanted to buy him out, he completely shut down."

"Knox Steele?" Summer stifled a laugh. "Where did you come up with that name? Were you watching the soap opera channel and one of the characters got stuck in your head?"

"Stop." I stood and started pacing around her room. "When we were teenagers, I would create fantasies in my head at night to help me get to sleep. In them, my name was Knox Steele, and I wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. So after leaving Cruella, I booked that cruise using the name. I guess it was to empower me somehow, you know what I mean?"

"It's easier to be strong if you're not really yourself, is what I'm hearing." Summer sat up straight and adjusted the pillows. "You're strong, Alex, and you don't need a fantasy name to prove it to yourself."

I sat down on the bed next to her, kicked off my loafers, and stretched my legs out. "Keep telling me that, and maybe one day I'll believe it. Jesus, I'm over thirty now, and I've never been in love, or even had a boyfriend. Everyone I know, including you, has had years to get married, start families, to find love. I feel like I'm treading water, barely able to keep my head above the water."

Summer listened intently, her eyes filled with compassion. "Alex, love doesn't have a deadline. You can't rush it or force it to fit into some preconceived timeline. Your journey is unique and special in its own way."

I leaned back against the pillows. "You always know what to say, Summer. Thank you for being here for me."

She smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's what twin sisters are for, right?"

I shut my eyes, murmuring, "Right. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Just promise me one thing," Summer said, her expression turning serious.

"What is it?" I asked, intrigued by the sudden shift in her tone.

"Promise me you'll give yourself a chance to be happy. Embrace who you are. Let go of the fear and doubts holding you back. Love will find its way to you. Now, tell me about this guy, Finn. What's he look like?"

I shut my eyes and smiled. "Blond hair, mustache, lean yet muscular. Tattoos, and a smile so brilliant it takes my breath away."

"Aww, he sounds perfect. Mom and Dad will hate him."

I barked out a laugh. "Would they prefer it if I dated someone from our so-called social class? A preppy guy living off a trust fund like we do?"

"I don't feel guilty about that anymore." Summer patted my leg. "We lucked out and were born into a wealthy family. It's what we do with that money that counts. Do you smell something burning?"

I sniffed the air. "Oh shit, Mom's trying to actually cook you something. I thought she'd just grab a box of cookies out of your pantry and arrange them on a tray." I get off the bed and stepped into my loafers. "Thanks for the pep talk, but I've got to help Mom in the kitchen. Hopefully she hasn't started a fire."

"Love you, Alex."

I leaned over and kissed Summer on the forehead. "Love you too."

I raced down the stairs and saw smoke coming from the kitchen. "Mom, is everything okay?"

"Alex, help!"

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, a thick cloud of smoke engulfed me, making it hard to see or breathe. Panic set in as I realized the source of the smoke - the cast-iron skillet on the stove was ablaze, and my mom stood in front of it, ready to douse it with water from a pitcher.

"Don't!" I shouted, snatching the pitcher from her hands. Water would only make the fire worse. "Where's some flour?"

Mom's arms flailed helplessly as she cried out, "I don't know!"

My eyes scanned the kitchen island and landed on a row of large tins. Without hesitation, I grabbed the biggest one and opened it up. Through the thick smoke, I could tell it was either flour or sugar. "Back up, Mom!"

With a swift motion, I threw the contents of the tin onto the flames and quickly found a lid to cover the pan. "Open the windows and back door," I instructed, coughing from the smoke.

Together, we opened all the windows just as a powerful gust of wind blew through them, clearing out some of the smoke. But my mom was still shaking as she muttered, "Summer is going to kill me. I was just trying to make her some eggs. What was I thinking?"

Feeling an unfamiliar sense of protectiveness towards my usually distant mother, I walked over and wrapped my arms around her trembling body. She stiffened at first, not used to physical affection in our family, but eventually relaxed into my embrace.

"Thank you, Alexander," she whispered gratefully.

Before things could get too emotional between us, my dad's voice broke through our moment. "The next time we come here, let's bring Joy with us," he suggested. Joy was their housekeeper, who took care of all their cooking and cleaning. "She can handle the cooking while we visit our daughter. Victoria, you know you can't cook, so stop trying."

Mom smacked Dad's shoulder playfully.

"Grab a box of crackers from the pantry and take it to her. Summer is probably worried sick about all this smoke. Son, let's go for a walk." Dad attempted a smile, but it was more like a grimace. "We need to talk."

As much as I wanted to go for a walk with my dad, I knew someone needed to clean up the mess in the kitchen. "Dad, someone needs to clean up and make sure Mom doesn't start another fire," I pointed out.

Mom gave me a playful glare, but I could tell she was grateful for my concern. "It was just an accident, that's all. It could have happened to anyone."

"Victoria, take Summer some food while Alexander and I clean up down here," Dad commanded. Mom went into the pantry, and when she came back out, I noticed her eye makeup was halfway down her cheek. I was about to say something, but I realized Summer would get a kick out of seeing our always put together mother a mess, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Take your time Victoria," Dad said, and Mom straightened her spine and left the kitchen with a box of crackers. "Where the hell is George?" Dad fumed. "He should be here taking care of Summer."

"Dad, he's probably stuck in DC traffic." My brother-in-law worked for the pentagon and spent hours upon hours stuck on I-95 every week. I slid an oven mitt on and picked up the destroyed cast-iron skillet. "Should I just toss this in the garbage, Dad?"

"Yes," Dad shook his head. "I'll order Summer a new one when we get home and have it delivered. Now, tell me how your company is doing?"

Inwardly, I groaned. When our grandfather died and left me and Summer our trust funds, I'd quit Dad's company, Harrington Enterprises, and started my business. Ever since then, he'd relentlessly been trying to get me back in the family business. But this was a chance to show him how well I was doing on my own.

"Actually, things are going great, Dad," I said, trying to keep my tone light and confident. "We just sold one of our restaurant franchises for a massive profit. The buyer is an international group looking to expand our brand in Europe, and they're placing the new units in airports."

Dad's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? That's impressive, Alex. I didn't realize you were going global so quickly."

"Yeah, it's been a lot of hard work, but it's paying off. I'm also working on building a franchise of breweries. That's more of a passion project, because of my love of beer." I patted my stomach and smiled. "We're expanding into new cities and creating a strong brand presence. The response has been incredible."

Dad leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. For a moment, I saw a flicker of pride in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by his usual critical gaze. "I suppose that explains why you've been so busy lately. Still, you know there's always a place for you at Harrington Enterprises."

"Thanks, Dad, but I'm really passionate about this. It's my dream, and I want to see it through. Besides, I'm learning so much and growing every day."

He nodded slowly, as if considering my words. "I respect that, Alex. Just remember, family comes first. If you ever need support or resources, we're here for you."

I smiled, appreciating his rare moment of understanding. "I know, Dad. And I appreciate it. But I need to do this on my own terms."

He gave me a small, almost reluctant smile. "Alright, son. Just don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

I glanced around the now smoky but calming kitchen, feeling a sense of accomplishment that went beyond business. It was a small victory, but it was mine. "Thanks, Dad. I won't forget it."

For a moment, I thought he was going to hug me, which was extremely bizarre. I stepped back, and after an uncomfortable moment of silence, Dad said, "Well, since George is running late, I'll feed the horses." A moment later, he was gone.

I placed my hands on the kitchen sink and sighed. What I really wanted to talk to Mom and Dad about was my love life. I know most people dreaded involving their parents in matters of the heart. But every single time they spoke to Summer about her husband George, I felt left out. Or when I'd hear Mom gossiping on the phone to one of her girlfriends about their husbands. It was like they were in this club that I couldn't belong to, unless I was a happy heterosexual like them.

I opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a bottle of kitchen cleaner and went to work on the mess. Bless Mom's heart. She wasn't good at anything domestic, besides arranging flowers and parties.

When I was married to Cruella for the first few months, everything had been different. I was included in more family events, vacations; you name it, me and my ex were always invited. But that came to an abrupt halt when I filed for the divorce.

When I told them I was gay, they were actually pretty cool about it. But underneath their outward displays of acceptance, I never felt like they wanted to know about the real me. The man who craved love from another man.

"Alexander darling, Summer wants to speak with you." Mom waltzed into the kitchen, and I noticed her makeup was back to normal. Summer probably got a kick out of seeing Mom like that. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"No, Mom." I smiled. "I need to head home in a few minutes so I don't get stuck in traffic like George."

"Thanks for cleaning up, dear," Mom placed a hand on my shoulder. "I don't tell you this often enough, but I love you Alexander."

My stomach clenched at her words. She rarely spoke those words, and it felt wonderful to hear them. "I love you too, Mom. Now let me run upstairs and see what Summer wants."

When I arrived at her bedroom, Summer gestured for me to close the door. Once I did, she put her hand over her mouth and burst into laughter.

"Oh my God, that was amazing!" She cackled, and I sat next to her and grinned. "I've never seen Mom look like that before, kind of like a boozy socialite in one of those old Hollywood movies."

My shoulders shook as I tried to contain my laughter. Finally, we both stopped giggling and Summer looked me square in the eye.

"This guy, Finn. You like him, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, but…"

"Go for it, Alex." Summer patted me on the shoulder. "Stop second guessing yourself and find someone who will make you happy."

"But he thinks I'm this rich asshole who—"

Summer placed her index finger over my lips.

"Stop it." Summer said. "If he gets to know the real you, the Alex I know, there's no way he can turn you down."

I sighed and shut my eyes, then mumbled, "From your mouth to God's ear, Summer. I wish you were right."