Harper raised her eyebrows when Ryan placed a plate in front of her with a dramatic flair. It was a stack of slightly burned hashbrowns that he proceeded to slather with guacamole because he deemed it was 'just as nutritious' as fresh avocado. When he added more than enough dollops of sour cream and shredded cheese, he sprinkled on some chopped-up scallions — as if that would make this better — and stood back with a proud smile on his face because he had made a healthy breakfast.
She sat back in the seat and brought the cup of coffee to her lips before taking a sip and immediately regretting it. She winced as the heat scalded her tongue and one day she'd learn why she stuck with iced drinks over hot ones. But compared to the heart attack on the plate, coffee was a much healthier choice.
"And… breakfast is served!" Ryan said as he sat beside her at the kitchen island. "Eat up kid, you'll need your energy if you're gonna do nothing today."
It was impossible not to keep the smile off of her face. Ryan was a whole new level of ridiculousness, and she wasn't sure who was parenting who at this point.
When Olivia sent her a quick 'good morning' text to check in and tell her that they all missed her, she felt a guilty pang at how at home she felt at Ryan's — like this was where she belonged, too. Rather than let her mind take her down that dark path, she typed out a quick reply followed by a picture of the breakfast she would unfortunately, but happily, eat. And if Olivia didn't have a heart attack and immediately call Ryan to vent her disapproval about eating like a frat boy than a thirty-something adult, it would be a missed opportunity.
And before she could take a bite of her food, Ryan's phone rang as if on cue.
He narrowed his eyes and pointed his fork at her. "You're the worst. Now I have to defend my father of the year title," he grumbled while she laughed.
He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear, barely able to get out a greeting before Olivia's voice filtered out through the speaker. He rolled his eyes, trying to placate her worries by telling him that the cheese was organic and the scallions were fresh — because that would put her mind at ease.
Harper laughed around her bite of food, the char of the hash brown somehow working with the copious amounts of toppings. But it was too top-heavy, and the guacamole and cheese slid off, splattering across the plate and landing on the sweatshirt she'd not so subtly stolen from Hawk the other day. She frowned at the mess and could already hear Hawk mocking her for not being able to eat without spilling food on herself.
She wiped at the stain with a napkin before taking a plain hash brown that she'd had to pick apart the burnt edges off of before making her "toast" into a sandwich.
Ryan gave her a nod of approval, half-heartedly agreeing with Olivia because that was the safest option. "Yeah, yeah, Olivia. I hear you," he said around a mouthful of food. "It's a balanced meal, I promise. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll give her a kale and carrot smoothie tomorrow."
Harper made a face, scrunching her nose at the idea. If she had to choose between that and this monstrosity, she'd rather get high cholesterol any day.
"I don't eat like a frat boy!" Ryan protested before adding, "I never even joined a fraternity so, yeah. Look, she's being well-cared for so stop worrying. Harper will come back in one, healthy piece, I promise. We've survived this far, haven't we?"
While Harper had no idea what the other end of the conversation sounded like, Ryan's replies were peak entertainment. Every time she went back to the Hudsons, Olivia gave her an earful about living off of junk food and remedied it by forcing the whole family into two weeks of ultra-healthy meals. Everyone hated it, and Lucas always ended up sneaking in takeout just to survive.
The call ended when Ryan's hash brown toast broke off and covered both him and the counter with food.
"Shit," he said with a frown at the mess. "No, I said shoot. I'm not cursing in front of her, Olivia. Calm down. Look, I gotta go," he said, wiping at the mess with the napkin, which hardly helped the situation.
Harper forced back a laugh, happy to see that she wasn't the only one incapable of not making a mess. She threw a handful of napkins at Ryan, who only smirked when he saw that her own sweatshirt was covered in stains.
"Think I piled on too much?" Ryan asked as he put his phone down, a sigh of relief escaping his lips at having ended the call.
"What makes you think that?" Harper asked, rolling her eyes just as her phone buzzed with a text.
It was from Olivia, begging her to have some fruits or veggies over the next week. Harper sent back a thumbs-up emoji just as another buzz came through — this time from Hawk. Her phone vibrated a few more times in succession because, of course, he had to send everything separately instead of in one message.
It started with a good morning — despite it being almost eleven — followed by a smug prediction about whether she'd spilled anything on herself yet. She had, obviously, but she'd never admit it. Before she could call him out for being a jerk, the last message came through, telling her to brace herself for an epic Die Hard marathon. She shut down that idea immediately, but good cocky we'll see — topped off with a wink emoji — was infuriating enough that she refused to answer.
"You're smiling," Ryan commented with a knowing grin. "He does know I'll kick his ass if he hurts you, right?"
"Oh my god," Harper muttered, her cheeks heating up immeasurably. "I'll kick his ass first, okay? You really don't have to worry about me, you know."
"It's kinda my job as your dad, kid," he said with a small shrug. "Besides, I gotta get you back for tattling on me to Olivia and hearing her wrath about how hash browns don't qualify as a vegetable. I mean, did she go to culinary school or something? I've been eating like this my whole adult life, and I'm still alive."
"Barely," she added with a smirk.
"Hey, I saw the reaction you had when I mentioned that smoothie. You're no better than me," Ryan pointed out with a grin.
Harper wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. Her diet while staying with the Hudsons was full of healthy and balanced meals even though she almost always craved the easy take-out options. It wasn't only when she stayed with Ryan, but when she and Hawk would drive around aimlessly while eating snacks from the gas station. After all, the bigger gas station chains had the best chicken nuggets hands down, and she would hear no arguments from anyone.
"So, what are the plans for today? Watching some epic action movies while trash-talking each other?" Ryan asked, helping himself to more of his innovative avocado toast but mimicking her and turning it into a sandwich.
"I'm not watching Die Hard again," Harper deadpanned, her head already hurting from even thinking of seeing not just one movie from the franchise but, if Hawk had his way, all of them. In a single day. "But, honestly? I don't know. We'll just hang out like we always do."
"The kids got great taste in movies," Ryan mused, laughing at the death glare Harper shot him. "But, seriously, if he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me. I'll happily send him a month's supply of kale smoothies and motivational podcasts."
"I'd love to see that," Harper said with a smile as she finished her second piece of toast. Hawk's reaction to the smoothies would've been priceless, but she wouldn't let herself dwell on it for fear of jinxing how good things were between them. Because if she so much as thought about things going sideways, there's a good chance that the universe will hear her and act on it.
And that's the last thing she wanted.
Because she was comfortable, happy, and in love.
It still made her dizzy even thinking that they'd said it — that she'd had the guts to even say it back. But she wouldn't change a thing, even if her friendships were currently in disarray because of it.
"What time were you thinking of leaving? I can drop you off if you want," Ryan said.
"Soon, probably," Harper said, tapping the screen of her phone to check the time.
A new message from Hawk popped up—one she hadn't seen yet—confidently assuring her that she'd cave because, according to him, she always did. Just to be difficult, Harper sent back a middle finger emoji followed by a heart. He was a dumbass, but he was her dumbass.
His reply came almost instantly, but before she could read it, the doorbell rang. Harper glanced at Ryan, who looked just as confused. It was like they lived on some remote island where the only possible visitors were stranded castaways.
"I really didn't want to deal with people today," he grumbled under his breath as he stood up. He shuffled out of the kitchen and towards the door before his steps faltered and he poked his head back into the room. "It's my parents."
Harper lowered the food she'd been about to take a bite of, her stomach twisting — not in surprise, but in anticipation.
Because Ryan's parents never just dropped by.
Their visits were layered and certainly meant to shake them both.
"Focus, Harper!" Ryan snapped his fingers in front of her face, suddenly standing right beside the island. "We're in the middle of an attack. My parents are right outside."
Harper was unable to help the smirk that crossed her face at the annoyed way he said it. "So?" She asked, knowing full well that his parents showing up was never just a casual visit.
"So? So?" Ryan echoed with a look of mock surprise. "They're devils in disguise! You really want me to invite them inside so they could let their poshness flood this place?"
Harper tilted her head, rolling her eyes at the dramatics. "They're… family," she pointed out even though they never made her feel like she was one of them. The doorbell rang once more, the sound more ominous than it had any right to be. "Maybe they actually want to just, I don't know, catch up?"
"Right. Because vampires aren't out for blood at all." Ryan ran a hand down his face before shooting her a mischievous grin. "Should I tell them we're having a party with random people we met off of the streets? Or do I tell them we're dealing with a plague and they can't come in unless they want to die a slow, agonizing death?"
Harper just blinked because he couldn't actually be serious. "Or you could, I don't know, just tell them they can't stay because we're going somewhere. You know, something normal, Frat Boy."
"I told you I was never a frat boy," he said with a frown, crossing the room to look out into the hallway. The shadows of his parents were visible behind the frosted glass door. "Oh! I know. We run out the back and, when they ask, we'll just say we were never really here."
"Oh my god, Ryan. Just answer the door!" Harper said. "You always said you were great at escaping them so… show me how it's done. Teach me something like the dad of the year that you are."
Ryan started to reply but stopped, a contemplative look crossing his face as he considered her words.
Harper realized her mistake the second the words left her mouth. Ryan's entire demeanor changed — his eyes lit up, his shoulders squared, and a slow grin spread across his face. Because her totally immature dad was actually rising to the challenge and taking her advice.
Snapping his fingers, he pointed at her with an exaggerated smile. "You know what, kid? You're right. Watch and learn!"
Before she could say anything, he ran — actually ran — out of the room and towards the front door. He was ready to face them head on, and she was supposed to learn whatever ridiculous excuses and techniques he had to get rid of them.
Maybe it was time to stop giving him ideas.
Harper lowered her head onto her arms, muttering under her breath about being raised by a literal child while remembering that she would now have to deal with her grandparents. It wasn't that they were bad people, but they had standards that were higher than any English monarch would have. It was terrifying because she actually wanted to be accepted.
The progress they'd made over the last couple of months was slow, but they continued to look down at her like she was dirt beneath their very expensive and polished shoes.
Lifting her head, she heard the distant disapproving voices that could only belong to Caroline and Richard Cain as they stepped into the noise. Lifting her head, she groaned when she realized her entire sleeve had just absorbed half of the avocado toast.
"Fantastic," she muttered, barely having a moment to groan in frustration before the sharp click of heels echoed through the house. Her grandmother, in all her pristine and calculated perfection, had arrived.
"Oh, there you are, dear," Caroline said as she stepped into the kitchen while Harper was in the middle of wiping food off of her sweatshirt. Her voice might've been friendly but her eagle eyes took in the scene for exactly what it was: irresponsibility and immaturity. "You are aware you have food on you?"
"Hi. Yeah, I… it's — well, what happened was…," Harper trailed off with a sigh, giving up on an explanation Caroline didn't really care about. She threw the napkin on the counter while also giving up on getting the green stain out. "Never mind."
Caroline wrinkled her nose, but the air of importance around her didn't seem to waver. "I see Ryan's feeding you… what would you call this?"
"Avocado toast;" Harper said.
"With a flair! It's pretty good if you don't count the burnt bits," Ryan said, stepping into the room with Richard on his tail. "So, can I get you guys anything? Caffeine? Kerosene?"
Richard frowned at Ryan's antics, while Harper tried to keep a straight face. For all his faults, his words were always full of unexpected punches that were light enough to be deemed a joke but carried that underlying tone of annoyance.
"Is this what you're feeding your daughter?" Richard peaked at the plates scattered around the island. If his smile continued to fall anymore, Harper worried that he'd ever find it again.
Ryan held his parent's judgmental stares for a beat, then shrugged. "Well, it was either this or the two-week-old Chinese food in the back of the fridge. I'm pretty sure it's growing some fur and legs," Ryan said as he peeked into the fridge and pulled out the containers that had seen better days. Taking a whiff of it, he grimaced before throwing it back onto the shelf. "I kinda wonder what it'll turn into if I leave it in there long enough," he explained when all three of them stared at him with wide-eyed worry and exasperation.
"A biohazard," Harper said before pushing past him and throwing the container in the trash despite his protests. "Ew, I think it just moved!" She shuddered, crossing her arms over her chest as if she could keep herself from freaking out.
Caroline and Richard exchanged a look—one that needed no words. Harper knew exactly what it meant: Ryan was too immature to be a father. They didn't see him as responsible, only as a joke. And, by extension, they didn't take her seriously either.
But it was the opposite. Harper saw him trying even if he was a disaster most of the time. He'd become a key figure in her life, and she loved that he didn't suffocate her with being a dad. He gave her space, but was there whenever she needed him, and that was what slowly made her forgive him for signing away his parental rights all those years ago.
It had been a mistake. Something Ryan and Harper were still paying the price for.
"What was that?" Ryan leaned toward his parents, frowning in mock confusion. He shot Harper a glance, the mischievous glint in his eyes paired with a quick wink only deepening her anxiety—but also sparking her curiosity.
Slipping an arm around his parents, he slowly guided them toward the door. "Your judgment is needed at the elite HOA meeting? Oh, that sucks. You know, Harper and I were really hoping to bask in your company a little longer, but… duty calls. Those meetings are serious business. Imagine if the Michelsons actually get approval for that twenty-foot elephant fountain in their front yard? Yeah, you better handle that. So I guess we'll see you at Christmas! Thanks for stopping by!"
Harper watched with mock horror at how unhinged Ryan's plan was. Nothing about it was subtle, just over the top in the most ridiculous way. She knew this wouldn't work because not even a toddler would fall for that. Still, she found it too entertaining to point that out.
If his parents were phased by his obvious attempt to get rid of them, they didn't show it. They were used to getting their way, and today was no different.
She followed them towards the door, hovering just nearby so that she wouldn't catch the brunt end of her grandparent's words when they put a stop to this.
"You're always one for the dramatics, Ryan," Caroline said with a heavy sigh, stepping out from under his arm. She turned to him with her lips pursed in a disapproving frown, though that seemed to be her default expression whenever Harper had seen her. "We just stopped by to —"
"Yeah, sorry. We're kinda busy dealing with a biohazard as Harper put it," Ryan interrupted. "I'll call you in the next three to five business weeks."
"Oh for god's sake," Richard said with a huff. "This is exactly why…," he trailed off, straightening his jacket as though it would help him control his emotions. "We're not here to see you, Ryan. We're here for Harper."
Harper's vision narrowed at their words, and her stomach dropped as she quickly looked towards Ryan for help. The causal rhythm of the morning, for all its chaos, vanished in an instant. She barely registered Ryan's reaction, too busy trying to ignore the way her pulse kicked up. Because suddenly, all eyes were on her. And if she could get swallowed up by the earth, now would be a fantastic time.
"Harper?" Ryan repeated, blinking before he pointed towards her. "This Harper?"
"Do you have another Harper hiding somewhere in this house?" Caroline asked dryly.
"Mom, was that an actual joke? Someone needs to call 911 because you have to be having a stroke!" Ryan shook his head before catching the worried look on Harper's face. "What do you want with her?"
"Well, we're not going to kidnap her or anything. Goodness, Ryan, calm down. Is it really that absurd that we want to spend some quality time with our granddaughter?" Caroline asked.
"Yes," Ryan deadpanned, moving to stand beside Harper. "Look, you guys can't just come in here unannounced and decide that you're taking her out to whatever piranha-infested place you're thinking of taking her to."
"The country club," Richard said, inserting himself into the conversation. "It's a perfectly suitable place for a young lady like herself. We took you and Mia there all the time when you were growing up, remember?"
"I remember sneaking out before one of those blue-blooded vultures could surround me," Ryan muttered before the joking faded and his expression turned serious. It was like a switch had flipped, and the goofy dad was replaced by someone ready to fight and protect her. "Look, I'm sorry, but the answer's no. She's not going anywhere with you two. Next time, call ahead like normal people."
"You don't answer your phone," Caroline pointed out.
"Do you blame me?" Ryan asked, crossing his arms. "Maybe you can take her another time, but Harper has plans today."
The way all three of them turned to her made her pulse spike even higher. Harper swallowed the frustration bubbling in her chest. If she said no, her grandparents would expect a reason — one they'd pick apart until she felt like a selfish child instead of a person with her own life. If she said yes… well, she'd just be putting herself through another day of being subtly picked apart.
Either way, she was screwed.
And she regretted not making a run for it with Ryan when he'd first suggested it.
"Harper?" Richard asked, his tone polite yet firm as if warning her that the very idea of turning them down would be frowned upon.
She tugged at the bracelet that was hidden beneath the sleeves of the sweatshirt, hating how her entire day had been derailed by grandparents who still treated her like she was beneath them. But perhaps they were actually here to try to form some sort of relationship with her, and her stupid hope inflated at the thought of being accepted.
"It's okay, I'll just – I can cancel my plans," Harper said slowly, though the idea of doing so made her feel worse. She'd been looking forward to spending another lazy day with Hawk after a week of being iced out by her friends. But she knew that turning down her grandparents would only make them hold some deep-seated grudge against her, and that was the last thing she wanted.
"Perfect," Caroline said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She clasped her hands in front of herself, catching the look of disapproval on Ryan's face. "She'll be fine, Ryan. We'll take good care of her. A day out for her will be good rather than whatever she was planning on doing."
And, just like that, Harper's needs and wants were deemed irrelevant. It didn't matter that she'd started to make a life for herself because she was their puppet now, and they could make her sing and dance at their whim.
"If she's going to be a part of this family, she needs to get used to these kinds of places," Richard added with a nod. "She's a Cain after all."
"This isn't an episode of Downton Abbey," Ryan mumbled before shooting her an apologetic look. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, kid."
Harper glanced at him, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. She could see the frustration in his expression, the slight shake of his head as if telling her she could say no — that she didn't have to be manipulated into spending a second with them. But, she knew what would happen if she said 'no' and how it would fire back at Ryan.
She's dealt with worse in her lifetime. Surely, she could handle half a day with her grandparents at the club for the rich and elite.
"No, it's fine. It'll be… fun," Harper said, hoping that her smile seemed at least a little bit more genuine and enthused than the hollowness that she felt inside.
"We'll wait here while you get changed," Caroline said while her eyes went to the watch on her wrist. "But do hurry up, dear, or we'll miss lunch."
Harper wanted to point out that she'd already eaten but stopped because it would've been useless. Just like turning them down would've been. With a small nod, she exited the room while trying to convince herself that this day wouldn't be a complete shitshow. But her heart pounded with anxious energy as she slowly started to realize that this would be the first time she wouldn't have Ryan on her side. She would be without his snarky comments and casual defenses of her.
Talk about being thrown to the wolves.
When she reached her room, Harper tried to figure out what one was supposed to wear to a country club. The fanciest place she'd ever been was a chain restaurant that couldn't care less if you showed up in a cocktail dress or sweats.
She grabbed her phone, thinking Sam might have some advice, but just as she was about to type out a message, she remembered—they weren't talking. With a sigh, she shut her phone off. Moon was an option, but asking her would turn a five-minute text exchange into a three-hour FaceTime call, which would only irritate her grandparents.
Out of options, Harper turned to the internet. The results were full of effortlessly polished girls in fitted sweaters, blouses, tennis skirts, and tailored trousers. She owned a sweater—but whether it was country club approved was another question entirely.
Without giving it much more thought, Harper opted for a navy sweater and a pair of jeans shorts that she hoped would not make her stand out too much. It wasn't perfect – and her grandparents would certainly have something to say – but she worked with what she had.
Besides, it was just lunch at a fancy country club that she had no business going to. She'd endure it. After all, she had no choice if she wanted to be accepted — even if she felt like she was selling her soul.
Her phone buzzed just as she started down the stairs, and she paused mid-step to read the message from Hawk. In all the chaos, she'd completely forgotten to tell him she couldn't make it.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed out a quick explanation and apology in one—but she hesitated before hitting send. It wasn't just about canceling their plans. It was losing a day that could have been just them, free from everyone else's opinions about their relationship.
A few seconds later, his response popped up. Let me know if you need a getaway driver.
It was so typically him that she couldn't help but laugh, despite everything.
The moment she stepped into the entryway, her grandparents' gazes swept over her outfit. Caroline didn't have to say anything – her pursed lips and raised eyebrow told her all she needed to know. Richard adjusted his tie as if the thought of her wearing that would ruin their reputation. But at least they weren't telling her to change or, god forbid, insisting on taking her shopping. This was all she had, and if they were dragging her to the lion's dens then they'd have to accept her as she was. Even if it did feel as if they were trying to mold her into a new version of herself than anything else.
Ryan stepped towards her, his brows drawn together in what could only be described as worry. "You know you don't have to do this," he said with an exasperated sigh. He hated the idea of her being forced into something she wanted nothing to do with, but he didn't say anything because he knew the battle was already lost.
"I know, but it kinda feels like I do," Harper said with a shrug. "Besides, maybe I'll do something that'll really embarrass them and get me banned from ever stepping foot there. It'll make a really good story."
"That's my girl," Ryan said, squeezing her shoulder. "Just remember to be yourself and not take any of their shit because they will try to rip you apart."
"Got it." Harper nodded seriously as if she was about to step onto a battlefield.
"Also, don't tell Olivia I cursed. I already got an earful about how all I'm doing is feeding you unhealthy food," he added with a crooked grin.
"Secret's safe with me," Harper promised.
"Good," Ryan said. "Oh, and if you need a sudden escape plan, just pretend you're sick. Dramatic fainting works the best."
Harper rolled her eyes but made a mental note of the tip. And then, because she literally had no choice, she walked out the door with her grandparents.
Harper felt as if she was plucked out of a reality where fast food was considered normal and thrown headfirst into a world where the Victorian Era hierarchy was still very much intact. It felt like walking into a realm suited only for the rich and powerful.
The country club itself was located on its own private stretch of land. The lawns and landscaping were immaculate as was the minimal decor that somehow managed to give off an 'I'm better than you' vibe — because, of course, trees and flowers could be snobby, too.
Harper's mind immediately went to the Buchanan Estate from The Great Gatsby. Prim, proper, and just outrageous enough to be considered classy and elite. Neither of which described her, who would rather spend a lazy day in her sweats watching dumb action movies with her boyfriend.
The moment they pulled in front of the building, the valet appeared out of nowhere and drove off. Because how dreadful would it be if they had to walk the hundred feet or so from the parking lot? She could imagine the stern talking Caroline and Richard would have had with the manager if that had even happened, and she felt sorry for him even if the conversation had been fictional.
Harper straightened her sweater, which was just a little askew from fidgeting with the sleeves and hem during the most awkwardly quiet car ride ever. Even their silence was judgmental and filled with underlying disapproval at the granddaughter they'd never wanted but were now forced to accept. So she'd sat in the back, trying to subtly research the goings on at beach clubs that could somehow give her an idea of what she'd be walking into. From the look of it, it all sounded fairly normal save for the notion of appearing as if she belonged in this world.
She knew for a fact that she and Ryan were like two sides of the same coin. After all, they were father and daughter. But Richard and Caroline Cain? They made the first-class passengers on the Titanic seem uncivilized. And one could only imagine what they thought of her wearing jean shorts to a country club that probably cost a fortune for the membership alone.
The last thing Harper wanted was to sell her soul to a bunch of stuck-up elitists, but if that's what it took to get their approval and love….
Harper hovered at the edge of the sidewalk, staring up at the two-story building that promised dreams could come true without enforcing everything that a person needed to give up to get it. Her sneakers scuffed against the pavement, the grand entrance practically daring her to walk inside and play along.
Harper exhaled, forcing a smile onto her face. "Here goes nothing," she muttered under her breath.
Her grandparents stood just ahead of her, their expectant glances visibly expressed their impatience at her hesitation. They didn't know what it was like for her, and they didn't care. To them, this was just another ordinary Sunday, but to Harper, it was like stepping into another world where the rules were reversed.
She followed them through the double doors that were opened for them by the staff. If this was a Disney movie, her laid-back attire would've magically transformed into a ball gown the second she stepped through that door but, real life being real, that didn't happen.
The cloyingly sweet perfume mixed with smokey cologne and furniture polish blended into an overwhelming scent that had Harper subtly wrinkling her nose. She told herself she wouldn't sneeze because that just seemed too beneath everyone to have a normal, human reaction.
Harper let her gaze take in the room from its polished floor that gleamed from the sunlight filtering in through the windows to the minimal yet expensive furniture and decor that was strategically placed around. Right about now, Ryan would've made some dumb joke about the chandeliers being stolen from some palace off the coast of Scotland, and she would've laughed despite herself.
But he wasn't here, and she was on her own.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cain. How nice to see you again," one of the staff members said with an air of importance and too much sucking up. His eyes briefly flicked over to Harper, who stood out amongst the Ralph Lauren attire of the other patrons. "And… this is the guest you were speaking of?"
"Yes, this is our son's daughter. Harper," Richard explained with a faint smile in her direction.
"So nice to meet you," the staff member said, though she doubted it was.
It briefly brought her back to the beach club Sam and Robby had invited her to just shortly after Valley Fest all those months ago. The manager had also looked at her like a speck of dust, and she couldn't have felt smaller.
"Well, follow me. Your usual table as always, correct?" He asked before they were led through the main hallway that opened up into an expansive dining area. The wall was lined with wall-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the back of the estate that had a view of a golf course with various lakes and ponds whose water glittered under the sun.
The tables were spread out enough to give everyone privacy, but close enough where some pretentious heir could humbly brag about their fortunes and good deeds for all to hear. The urge to roll her eyes was high, but it was on her list of what not to do.
Don't think, don't feel, just do as we say.
Her sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor, but the sound of silverware, light chatter, and even quieter music seemed to muffle the embarrassment that it could've brought.
"Your waiter will be by in just a few moments to check in," the staff member said before he scurried away to bow down to some other guests.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mia," Caroline's voice dropped with pleasant condescension. "Harper just needed a moment to put herself together."
Harper felt her veins ice over when she spotted an effortlessly put-together Mia sitting at their table. A knowing smirk curled at Mia's lips as her gaze traveled — not skimmed but traveled — over her, taking her in like she was an exhibit on display. It was at that moment that Harper realized that she wouldn't just have to deal with Caroline and Richard, but Mia as well.
This wasn't a casual family outing to make Harper feel welcome and included. It was a strategic test to see if she was worthy of her last name.
Caroline and Richard had already claimed their seats, but Harper remained standing. The full force of what this was continued to settle over her in an excruciatingly slow way. Her grandparents had planned this, and manipulated her into canceling her plans with the only person who accepted her as the mess that she was in order to see how she stacked up in their world.
It was cruel, but she'd be damned if she let herself fail.
Harper told herself to get into character and play the dutiful granddaughter to two people who only wanted to see her fail — to see Ryan fail.
What Mia's role in this was, though? She was scared to find out.
"People are starting to stare, Harper. For heaven's sake, sit down," Caroline said, shooting her a brief smile that was just as much of a threat as anything she could've said.
Harper glanced around, giving the room a once-over because people were, in fact, not staring. Her fingers curled around the backrest of the chair, her knuckles tightening for just a second — like she was weighing her options. But there weren't any. Not really.
So she sat down beside Caroline and across from Mia, knowing that for the next few hours, she was trapped in this family gathering.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," Mia said as she sipped her water from a glass cup.
"Oh, Harper was just delighted to join us, weren't you, dear?" Caroline asked with a smile.
"Yeah, I wouldn't miss it," Harper answered while her fingers curled around the edge of her bracelet.
The three of them watched her like one would watch a wild animal outside of its habitat to see how it would react. But Harper had been bounced from one environment to the next, and had dealt with people whose only mission was to dismiss and watch her fail while subtly not giving a shit either way. So this? This was nothing new, and Harper knew she could hold her own. But the empty seat at their table where Ryan would've sat had he been invited felt like a void mocking her, reminding her that she was alone.
Mia set her drink down, the ice clinking against the glass. "You look… cute," Mia commented, tilting her head as if appraising Harper like a designer debating whether or not to keep a last-minute addition to a collection. Her words were a throwback to their first meeting and dinner where Harper was reminded that dress codes were always a thing.
"Thanks. I was going for the whole estranged family member vibe," Harper said.
Mia's smirk widened. "Well, you certainly nailed it."
Harper didn't miss the way Richard and Caroline's posture stiffened slightly at the exchange, their gaze flicking between them as if deciding how long to let this play out.
Then Richard cleared his throat, throwing her one look that could've shut down a courtroom in one second.
Harper's brief moment of control slipped through her fingers, reminding her of why she was there.
The waitress approached their table with a practiced smile—the kind reserved for uptight regulars whose satisfaction could determine just how easy or difficult her shift would be.
"Welcome back, it's so nice to see you all again," she said, entirely dismissing Harper from her glance around the table. "What are we having today?"
When her grandparents and Mia started to rattle off their orders, Harper panicked. She wasn't even remotely prepared. How could she be when there was no menu before her? Her silence was only enhanced when the waitress turned to her, tilting her head in the way people did when they wanted you to hurry up.
"She'll have the grilled salmon with a side of the house salad," Richard said, his voice tighter than normal. He offered her a quick smile as if daring her to question the choice.
Harper's mouth opened — instinctively, almost — to protest. But Richard's gaze dared her to argue.
Don't think, don't feel, just do as we say.
"Sounds great," Harper said, tightening her grasp on her bracelet because the only thing that sounded appetizing was the salad.
The waitress promised their appetizers and meals would be right out and left the table in a tense silence.
The first test? A complete failure.
"So, how's life with my big brother?" Mia asked as if none of the earlier tension had happened. "I'm surprised he's kept you alive this long but, then again, it's just a two-week trial every month, right? It's not exactly much of a commitment."
The words landed sharper than she wanted them to. Mia wasn't just joking — she was reminding her that nothing here was permanent. That Ryan hadn't signed on forever, and the courts could side with the Hudsons instead. That maybe, just maybe, this was all temporary. Because to her grandparents and Mia, she was replaceable — this whole outing proved that with how they tested whether or not she fit in.
It was funny how the word temporary was the only permanent part of Harper's life.
"You should've seen what their breakfast consisted of," Caroline said with a shake of her head. Her smile was just warm enough to show she was joking, but the cool and calculated way she was watching Harper told a different story. "It was… well, I can't even begin to describe it. And now he's passing all those traits and antics of his onto our Harper."
That was almost laughable. Our Harper. It might've sounded like an endearing phrase, but it wasn't. She was never theirs, even when she jumped through all the right hoops and still managed to fall short.
"Don't think that we haven't noticed the resemblance between you and Ryan over the last couple of months" Richard said, a slightly amused expression on his face that looked out of place. "The way you react and talk, it's like watching two sides of the same coin."
"It's honestly quite concerning," Caroline spoke up because that was something they should fear.
Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. "We had such high hopes for you, Harper. I suppose some things just can't be helped."
"Oh, there's still time, Richard. I'm sure with a little work and patience, we can get Harper to be a true Cain," Caroline mused, though her words sounded hollow as if she didn't believe them any more than she wanted them to be true.
It stung to hear that she was just another project to them. Harper was used to people looking past her, but she thought this time would be different. Because even if they weren't legally family — yet — they were still blood. But that didn't seem to matter because she belonged to the system, and they'd rather 'fix' her than accept her.
"I don't know," Harper said with a shrug. "I like to think of it as a birthright, you know? Some people inherit money or property, but at the end of the day, it's the chaotic personalities you get from family that really matter."
The table fell silent, and Harper worked to keep the smirk off of her face. They were trying so hard to strip her of everything that she was, of making her feel embarrassed of being similar to a person she'd wondered her whole life about. But she wasn't, and their expressions reflected how utterly disappointing that was. What Harper valued — truly valued — was a connection. Something to tie her to someone, to give her an inkling of belonging.
Something that the three of them were trying to convince her was not important.
Through her years of being in the system, she knew it wasn't the places and things that were valuable, but people. And while she'd had shit luck up until moving to Van Nuys, it was the one thing she wouldn't take likely.
"That's certainly an interesting way to look at it," Richard said. "But it's not necessarily a good thing. Ryan definitely has his quirks, and we want to keep you from making the same mistakes."
"Trust us, Harper. My brother might seem like someone you should look up to, but he has his faults," Mia said.
"Kinda like we all do, right?" Harper asked, tilting her head as if she was trying to scrutinize them for everything they were trying to darken while highlighting the 'acceptable' parts of themselves. "I mean, I know I'm kind of a mess at times. And I know that Ryan can be oblivious and immature, but he's trying. Like really trying. I kinda think that's more important than some mistakes he's made in the past."
The indignation that flicked on Richard and Caroline's face was satisfying. Harper realized that she didn't have to feign an illness or faint dramatically to get through this lunch — she just had to be herself. And while some desperate part of her still wanted their acceptance, she wasn't going to lose who she was over it. But, more importantly, she wasn't about to let them diminish everything Ryan had done for her.
She twisted the bracelet around her wrist, waiting with bated breath for a reprimand or how she was too far gone to be a true Cain, whatever that meant. But they remained silent — speechless. Harper's face flicked briefly towards Mia, who sat back in her seat with something that almost resembled approval. The corner of her mouth ticked up in the smallest of smirks, and her eyes held that slight gleam of support.
Harper blinked in surprise, not wanting to grasp onto hope that could've just been a figment of her imagination.
A group of waiters appeared at their table just then, cutting through the tension as if they were used to these kinds of dramatics. Wordlessly, they placed the food down before them with a precision that only came from years of experience, getting the right order in front of the correct person on the first try.
They left just as quickly, just as silently, as if permitting them to resume their conversation. Or what it really was: a trial.
Her grandparents murmured how appealing everything looked, but from the way they moved the food around with their forks, it was like they were trying to find a flaw of some kind.
Harper, however, was still full from the high-calorie breakfast Ryan had served up just a couple of hours ago. And perhaps it was Ryan rubbing off on her, but she preferred her fish fried as opposed to whatever healthy alternative this was. The slice of lemon and sage that rested on top of the salmon made it look like the food was meant to be photographed rather than eaten.
Still, she could feel her grandparent's watchful eyes as she merely stared at her plate. It would be rude not to eat, even though she half-worried that she'd be wearing more of this lunch than anything else. Unfortunately, Hawk was right when it came to her being a mess.
Gingerly, she stabbed her fork through the fish, being extra careful to take small bites as that seemed safer than not dropping it on herself. She could only imagine the embarrassed looks and disappointed shakes of their head if she got food on her sweater.
"Sit up straight, dear," Caroline said after a few terse minutes. "Slouching at your age will only result in back issues when you're older."
Sighing, Harper straightened up but now it felt ridiculous because she couldn't even lean forward to eat. Her strategy of taking small bites felt like a loss when now she had to be extra careful of keeping the food on the fork. She couldn't wait to go home, change into her sweat set, and return to the current century where posh rules didn't apply.
Lunch carried on with more subtle jabs that were meant to teach Harper, when in fact it only called her out on how much of an outsider she truly was.
"That's the wrong fork for the salad."
"You shouldn't fidget so much."
Everything she did seemed to be wrong, and she stupidly followed their directions on how to 'fix it'. She was their puppet without even realizing it — even when she'd pushed back, they still dragged her back under their thumb.
Harper couldn't help but wonder if that was how Ryan felt growing up with them. If that was why he chose a different path for himself to escape them.
She wouldn't have blamed him. After one day with them, she felt a crushing weight where expectations didn't match the results.
Lunch ended with a loud silence as they abandoned their table and made their way outside for some refreshments. Everything felt so scripted, so fake that Harper half-wondered if this would end up on an episode of a reality show. She glanced around for the hidden cameras but there were none, and she didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.
"They're not going to let you win," Mia said, falling into step beside her as they exited the glass double doors to the back deck.
It was an extension of the dining room but seemed less formal because of the outdoor furniture that still looked more expensive than it had any right to be. Behind the golf course that seemed to take up the majority of the backyard, she could just make out a few tennis courts that she hoped she wouldn't be forced to join in on.
But her main concern was Mia's words — sharp and observant.
"I'm not trying to win anything," Harper said.
Mia rolled her eyes in such a dramatic way that not only made her similar to Ryan but also human. "Oh, please. Ryan acted this exact way growing up — always adding in a snarky remark or two when our parents were particularly hard on him. He hated when they tried to control him, so he did the opposite of what they wanted."
"And it worked out for him, didn't it? I mean, he did what he wanted and still managed to be successful," Harper pointed out, her grip tightening around her bracelet. "You have to admit that it's pretty freaking cool."
"It doesn't matter. Not to them," Mia said, her expression cool when she glanced over at her. "But don't let them win by tearing you down."
Harper stopped mid-step, staring after Mia who pretended she hadn't noticed her hesitation. What the hell did she mean by that? Was it an encouragement or a warning? But she didn't get a chance to ask, because they'd arrived at their new table. She paused by her chair, not ready to endure another hour or more of their silent criticisms or remarks on what she was doing wrong.
She needed a moment away from them, and the idea of calling Hawk to provide the getaway car was so tempting at this point. But she needed to stay, needed to see this through. If she ran, she'd lose. If she stayed, she would also lose, but at least she'd try.
Rather than bolt, Harper excused herself to the bathroom.
Given the size of this country club, the route was fairly straightforward but she didn't take it. Instead, she let herself wander around the backyard. Out in the open, under the cloudless sky with the sun beaming down on her, she didn't feel as suffocated. She only needed a few minutes to herself, to let herself relax before she had to take up her role once again.
She realized sadly that the family she wanted were just strangers who didn't even accept their son. No matter what she did or if she turned herself into a replica of Mia, they would still find faults in her programming. It wasn't about how she spoke or dressed or acted — it was control, something she'd fight against her entire life.
The system wanted to break her while the world around them wanted to fit Harper into a checkbox labeled 'foster kid'. She hadn't conformed to that, and she wouldn't conform to this either. She was who she was, and that would have to be enough.
It was funny how she'd never accepted herself as anything other than a disposable kid with no past and no future as none of it was written by for but for her. But she valued her strengths now when she saw just how similar she was to her dad. It made her want to fight to prove everyone wrong — prove herself wrong.
Harper knew the minutes were stretching too long. The last thing she needed was for her grandparents to send out a search party and embarrass them even more. So she started up the stone patch back towards the covered patio where the sun didn't dare touch their skin. Her steps slowed as she dreaded sitting down in that chair, even if she was curious about Mia's words more than anything.
"Oh, there you are!" A woman's voice called to hers, dripping with condensation as she barely glanced over at her from the lounge chair she was occupying. "Could you ask them to send over another round of refreshments?"
"I — what?" Harper asked.
"Refreshments," the woman spoke slower and slightly louder as if that would somehow make her understand.
And when it clicked that she believed Harper worked here, she stilled completely. It was bad enough to be judged for being an outsider in a world of elitists, but to be thought of as the help — not that there was anything wrong with it — didn't exactly help Harper's self-esteem.
"She doesn't work here, Mom," a voice said with a dark chuckle, stepping closer to her. His hand immediately went to her lower back, and Harper had to will herself to not flinch or punch or anything that would draw attention. "This is Harper Cain. We're kinda friends."
She froze at the word 'friends'. Because if there was one thing that Harper and Jake weren't, it was that. A chill ran down her spine as she forced herself to look up at him — he was all charm and smugness with something darker that only she seemed to be hyper-aware of. Just his proximity made her tense, and her pulse beat a panicked beat. There didn't appear to be any place Harper could go to where she didn't have to worry about bumping into him.
And the day just continued to get better, because of course he was here.
His mom had all the grace and elegance of Meredith Blake, and if Harper felt intimidated by it, she didn't let it show. Her lips turned up into a pleasant, though slightly exaggerated, smile as she looked from her son to Harper.
"Cain?" She asked, tilting her head in thought. "You're not related to Richard and Caroline, are you?"
Harper's fingers grazed her bracelet. "Yeah, they're my — Ryan's my dad."
"I see," Mrs. Mitchell nodded slowly, processing that one piece of information that felt like it would be used as ammunition against her. Her expression brightened instantly as she sat up taller. "Oh, of course! They mentioned you the last few times we've talked. You remember that, right?" She turned towards her husband who nodded along.
"That's right. We're good friends with your grandparents, and they couldn't stop bragging about you," Mr. Mitchell agreed.
Harper doubted that her grandparents spoke of her to anyone unless they wanted to tarnish their spotless reputation. She didn't just not fit into their world, but she wasn't legally part of their perfect family. She hadn't grown up with Ryan but bounced from one foster home to the next. So the idea of them talking her up like she was some prized possession sounded almost comical.
"But we didn't realize you and Jake were friends," Mrs. Mitchell said. "Why didn't you ever mention anything?"
"I'm pretty sure I've mentioned her," Jake said smoothly, his smile turning more charming and effortless. "We hung out a few times. I helped her with math homework, and we also grabbed coffee after school last week."
"Oh, how lovely!" Mrs. Mitchell commented. "It's so nice to know that you two are so close."
"I wouldn't exactly say that," Harper muttered. "I mean, we go to the same school so we kinda, you know, bump into each other."
Jake's fingers dug into her back, the pressure a gentle reminder to be careful with her words. "Yeah, but we've gotten pretty close even if she is a year younger than me. I'm always trying to look out for her since she's new and all that."
His words were bullshit, but Harper kept quiet because she knew that whatever she said wouldn't be believed by his parents. They'd side with him in a heartbeat just like everyone else did. With Jake's sick game continuing between them, she knew she had to play smarter, which was why she kept quiet.
Jake looked down at her, an easygoing grin on his face but the curiosity behind his eyes was evident. "Anyway, I'll show her around so I'll see you later."
"That's a great idea!" Mr. Mitchell agreed, but his eyes were already scanning the patios. "Why don't we go catch up with the Cain's for a bit? I think I see them over there."
Mrs. Mitchell's response was inaudible as Jake led her away with his arm around her shoulders. She was pinned to his side, forced to walk beside him and anyone watching would be putting their own opinions together. He was controlling the narrative like he'd done in the school hallway, letting people forge their conclusions based on what they saw — what they wanted to see.
"So, you didn't mention you were related to those Cains," Jake said casually, like they hung out like this every day — like he wasn't silently trying to break her because she was the first one to go against him.
"Why would I tell you anything? We're not exactly friends, you know," Harper said, her voice steady despite her rising anxiety.
"But we could be," he said casually, not at all affected by her words. "Maybe we can even turn this into a friends-with-benefits thing. I mean, I wouldn't totally hate the idea."
Harper stiffened immediately while telling herself to stay calm. They were just words meant to unsettle her, to make her accept that he had the upper hand in this sick game.
There were too many eyes on them, so she knew that he wouldn't try anything. If he did, then he risked undoing his narrative. But the way his arm tightened around her shoulder, his fingers casually playing with a strand of her hair was enough to show her who was in control.
"Right, well keep dreaming because that's never gonna happen," Harper said, trying to step out from under his arm but he was too strong.
While she could physically force him to step back, causing a scene was exactly what he wanted her to do. It would make her seem like an unhinged girl who didn't belong rather than someone trying to defend herself. Even though a shiver passed through her, Harper had to keep playing smart rather than lashing out the moment she became uncomfortable.
"Come on, Harper. You really need to relax," Jake said with a laugh that sounded too forced to be casual. "If you just play along, this will be so much easier."
"And where's the fun in that?" Harper challenged, raising an eyebrow.
She could feel him tense beside her, and it brought a satisfied smile to her face — a small acknowledgment that she was getting under his skin, too. It wasn't much, but it let her know that her fighting back was unexpected.
If he wanted to play this game, then she'd play only to watch him lose. She just hoped that she would come out on the other side unscathed.
He stopped abruptly, tugging her to a halt as he turned to face her. They were still on the main path, where people strolled past and a golf cart zipped along the grassy hills. Quiet, meaningless conversations drifted through the air, but she couldn't focus on any of it. Not when he closed the distance between them, his hand trailing from her shoulder to her waist. It took everything in her not to flinch. The touch was carefully calculated — innocent enough that anyone watching wouldn't think twice. But she knew better. This was just another chess move, a subtle reminder of his control over the game.
Jake leaned in far too close, his breath warm on her face as he studied her. "You know, I had a feeling you were having fun with this game of ours. It's almost like you can't stay away from me, huh?"
Harper let out a soft hum, tilting her head as if considering his words. "Maybe," she said, her lips curving just enough to keep him guessing. "Or maybe I just enjoy watching you try so hard."
Keeping her gaze locked on his, Harper stepped closer, closing the distance until barely an inch remained between them. Tilting her head, she smiled up at him, a quiet challenge in her eyes. Her heart pounded, but she kept her touch featherlight, letting her fingers ghost over his arm — just enough to make him notice.
Jake's smile faltered as his gaze flickered to where her hand rested lightly on his arm, her nails playfully digging into his skin. For a split second, uncertainty flashed in his eyes, but he masked it with a smirk as he looked down at her. "People are gonna start talking, you know."
"Let them talk," Harper said with a slight shrug, keeping her tone light but her gaze steady. "I mean, that's kinda what you want, right? So, how about we just give them something to talk about?"
Jake hesitated, and for once, she took silent comfort in having thrown him off balance. His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back before brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face. Then, his gaze flickered to her lips, his smile widening — but she didn't pull away. Instead, she closed the distance, tilting her head just so. Her other hand drifted to the back of his neck, drawing him in until their faces were barely a breath apart.
But just before their lips could meet, Harper turned her head at the last second.
"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" she asked with a smile.
Jake huffed out a quiet laugh, tilting his head as he studied her. "You love making things difficult, don't you?" His fingers ghosted over her wrist, his smirk lazy, confident. "That's okay. I like a challenge."
"You're nothing but a privileged jackass, Jake," Harper said quietly, her lips barely brushing his ear as her hand gripped his arm. "And it's going to be so much fun watching you lose. I mean, what do you think's gonna happen when everyone finds out what a manipulative piece of shit you are? I can't wait."
Jake's smirk didn't falter, but his grip on control was slipping—she could see it in the way his jaw tensed. "You really think you can win this, don't you?" he murmured, his voice smooth but laced with something darker. His fingers brushed the edge of her waist, just enough to make it clear he wasn't backing down. "We'll see about that."
"I guess we will," Harper said. "But it looks like I won this round."
Harper pulled back with a smirk of her own, watching as he slowly blinked down at her. The seconds stretched, his expression shifting as he tried to process what just happened. Watching the emotions flicker across his face in almost slow motion was easily the best part of her day. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, see the moment he started grappling with how she'd completely thrown him off his game.
Taking a step back, she realized that his hand remained on her arm, holding her in place. She glanced down at where his hand rested and lifted an eyebrow. "If you're as attached to your hand as I think you are, then I suggest you let go unless you want me to break it. No one actually wants to see you cry here, Jake. It's pathetic"
Jake's fingers flexed around her arm for a moment before finally loosening, just enough for her to pull away. He exhaled a quiet laugh, though there was an edge to it—like he wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated. "You really think you just won?" he asked, his voice low, still steady, but laced with something else—something unsettled.
Harper tilted her head, letting a slow smirk play at her lips. "Not yet," she admitted. "But give it time. You're gonna hate how this ends for you."
Jake held her gaze, his smirk hardening into something sharper, something dangerous. "We'll see about that."
Harper simply stepped past him, tossing one last glance over her shoulder. "Yeah, we will."
She didn't wait for him to reply. She turned on her heel and walked away from him, her muscles tense as if expecting him to pull her back in. She anticipated it but he didn't reach for her, instead letting her walk away. When she was just a few feet away, Harper let out the breath she'd been holding for the last few minutes. The tremble in her hands gaze away just how rattled she was, and it didn't matter that she'd won because this wasn't her. Jake would retaliate, and now she had to be prepared.
"There you are!" Mia's voice barely registered in her mind until she fell into step beside her. "I thought you were going to the bathroom."
"I was, but I kinda got lost," Harper said with a half-smile.
Mia nodded, her eyes narrowing just slightly before looking over her shoulder. Her expression darkened but it wasn't from the typical amusement. Seconds ticked by before she spoke again, her voice softer but tense. "How long has he been bothering you?"
Harper's steps faltered for a second before she continued walking, trying not to let her question rattle her more than it did. "I really don't know what you're talking about," she said lightly.
"Don't insult me." Mia tugged at her hand, stopping them before they could reach the covered patio. Her grandparents could be seen sitting at a table near the front, oblivious to the tension that crackled like lightning just a few feet away. "I saw what happened. And I know that something's going on."
"Well, you saw wrong," Harper said, going to step around her but Mia blocked her path. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair and was aware that it shook despite the neutral look she'd forced onto her face.
"I know you don't trust me, Harper, and you have every reason not to," Mia told her, lowering her voice. "But I also know Jake and his family. Look, just hear me okay, okay? A few years ago, I dated his cousin. Nick. He was charming and successful, and he was everything I wanted. But he also had that sleazy personality that all the Mitchell's seem to have, and he got aggressive and controlling real quick. I didn't realize it at the time, but he was playing a game just because he could. Just like Jake is doing to you."
"I don't —"
"I think you do. I kind of saw the whole thing, and I saw how uncomfortable you were back there with him. He's playing that same game with you, and you can't let him win," Mia said.
Harper opened her mouth to fire back a remark that would shut down whatever the hell Mia thought she saw or knew. They were two people from two very different pasts — this didn't make them similar. Not in the slightest. But something about Mia's story, how her eyes had betrayed that hint of panic made her walls falter for just a second. Because that meant this wasn't just another person who believed Harper, but who also lived through it herself.
"Look, I'm…." The word fine died in her tongue, and she let out a shaky breath. "I have it under control, okay? I'm dealing with it."
Mia didn't say anything to that. It was as if Harper's confirmation was enough and didn't push her for more details. "Your mom was stubborn, too."
"My mom?"
"Yeah, Nora liked to handle everything on her own," Mia said as she resumed walking, forcing Harper to catch up to her. Her smile was still sharp but there was a subtle warmth underneath it. "We were best friends, you know. Your mom and me. She was the tough girl with an even tougher past, and I was living in this… well, you know. We met in middle school and were inseparable until junior year of high school. I was always giving her shit when it came to school and doing things the right way, but she liked living by her own rules."
Harper just listened because she was afraid that any word she said would make Mia stop talking. She was getting another piece of her mom back, and that alone made her heart race in anticipation.
"I was kind of jealous of her. Nora made everything look so easy — she had that same 'I don't give a shit' attitude that you have. But she was also pretty vulnerable when it came to letting her guard down. Sound familiar?" Mia asked with a smirk.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harper said with a shake of her head, though Mia's words hit closer to home than she would ever admit.
Mia snorted, a laugh bubbling out of her before she could stop it. Then her expression turned sadder, almost nostalgic as if she was replaying the past with great care. "I'm sorry about your mom. She was my best friend."
Harper's chest clenched at the unexpected apology, and her fingers twisted around her bracelet.
Mia's eyes snapped to the piece of jewelry right away. "Ryan gave Nora that for her birthday. Senior year. I remember him asking me for advice, but I kind of ignored him so he had to figure it out on his own."
Harper nodded, her fingers tightening around the rose gold chain because it not only tied her to her mom but also to her dad. It was more important now than ever. "Thanks," she said quietly. "You know, for telling me about my mom."
Mia simply nodded because, by that point, they'd made it to the patio where Richard and Caroline were regarding them with curiosity. She followed Mia, sitting down across from her grandfather as a glass of water appeared before her thanks to the attentive waiter.
"It took you long enough, dear. We were beginning to think you got lost," Caroline said.
"Sorry, I just —" Harper started on my to be cut off.
"But we had a lovely chat with the Mitchell's," Caroline said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she tilted her head. She watched Harper like one would watch something rare and out of reach. "You know, we didn't know you and Jake were such good friends."
"It's a relief to hear that you're keeping good company," Richard added with a nod of his head. He had the calculating look of a businessman about to close a very important deal, and something close to fear tugged at her heart. "It's important who you're seen with, Harper. Now that you're… almost part of the family."
It was another brutal reminder that Harper was still very much an outsider. She tried not to care, but she'd been doing everything they asked only for it still to not be enough.
"You and Jake would be good for eachother," Caroline added.
Harper briefly looked towards Mia, who's own gaze darkened. "We're not friends," she said quietly.
"What was that, dear?" Caroline asked.
"I just…. I have a boyfriend," Harper said.
Caroline sighed as if the reminder had personally offended her. She looked towards Richard, who's own expression resembled something between disinterest and annoyance.
"We're quite aware of your relationship," Richard said, steepling his hands as he watched her carefully.
"And we understand. After all, we've all had moments of weakness," Caroline said, her tone sweet but it didn't match her stoic expression in the least. "Do we even have to mention Ryan and Nora?"
Harper was tired. So tired of everyone having an opinion, of wanting to break up the one good and steady thing in her life. Her defense of Hawk bubbled to the surface, but she bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything because it would only work against her. Their opinions were set in stone, and no amount of kicking and screaming would change it.
But now they were dragging her parents through their judgmental views of the world. It was like they didn't give a shit she was their daughter — that those words wouldn't cut through her like the weapon that they were.
"We're just saying, Harper, that you should be more considerate of who you spend your time with. We've all heard about… what was his name again?" Richard tilted his head in thought and waved his hand as if that tiny detail didn't matter. "He doesn't have the best reputation as I'm sure you know. And while it's admirable that you've given him a chance, you also need to think of your future."
"Oh, please," Mia said, rolling her eyes as she leaned forward. "You don't need to have an opinion about everything. Just like you don't have to control everyone just because things don't fit into your idea of what's right or acceptable."
"Excuse me?" Caroline asked, clutching her necklace as if she'd just been slapped. "We only have our granddaughter's best interests at heart."
"Just like you had mine with Nick?" Mia asked, sitting up straighter. "You didn't talk to me for months when I broke things off with him. I didn't want to see it, but Ryan's been right about you this entire time. You two live to control people. It's never been about wanting what's best for your family."
"Now you're just being dramatic," Caroline said with a sigh. "What's gotten into you, Mia? You're acting just like Ryan."
"No, I'm just stating a fact," Mia said, not missing a beat. "But do you really think he'll let you dictate Harper's entire life? He walked away from this family to do things his own way. I'm just saying, don't push Harper away the same way you pushed Ryan."
The entire table had stilled, and Harper wasn't even sure if she was breathing at this point. Her mind was a whirlwind as she tried to process everything — the judgment that was passed from her grandparents onto her followed by Mia's sudden shift in alliances. Whether she trusted the sudden backup, she didn't know even if it was nice to have someone on her side for once. She sat back in her seat, silently watching the tension that crossed Richard and Caroline's faces as Mia's words settled over them. They appeared more bothered by the fact that their voices had raised for just a moment than what was actually said – and that alone spoke volumes.
"Well, if you're done making a spectacle of yourself, Mia, I suggest we return to our drinks," Richard said, shutting down the conversation with a look of warning in his eyes as if daring either of them to say more.
Mia raised her glass in a mock toast, rolling her eyes before taking a sip of her drink.
The atmosphere was still thick with tension, but the topic had died out just like her grandparents wished it. Just because the conversation was over didn't mean it hadn't been said. Their words still floated around her mind, silently reminding her what they actually thought of her. It was a hard pill to swallow because they were her family. She was used to cruelty and dismissal though it had come in the form of people that were literally paid to care for her. But this… this was her blood, and they still refused to acknowledge that just because she wasn't legally theirs. It stung even though Harper pretended that it didn't – because dwelling on it for too long would absolutely crush her.
Caroline cleared her throat, a practiced smile crossing her face as she took a delicate bite of the dessert before her. "Now, Harper, tell us about school."
The conversation dove into polite topics that seemed more for show than anything else. Harper answered their questions, quietly noting their disappointment when she answered in a way that didn't please them. She could still feel the strings they'd tied around her as they tugged her in a direction that suited their opinions best. Even now, after everything, they continued to try to control her – tried to mold her into their version of who she should be. She held her own or, at least, she tried to. Mia kept quiet, no longer inserting herself into the conversation when Harper stumbled over her words. But she could see that Mia was silently watching, her intense gaze sweeping over them with a calculated expression.
The relief that Harper felt when they announced they were leaving was immense. She'd spent the last hour trying to form her words into something that they'd appreciate, only for them to cut her with a look that showed she'd failed again. Mia had been right when she pointed out that they only cared aout concern, and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever get their approval – if they'd ever see her as anything but the long lost granddaughter who was too tainted by the cruelty of the foster system. Harper foolishly held onto that hope, knowing that she would only continue to get disappointed by their dismissal.
"Well, this was fun," Mia said dryly as they waited outside of the country club for the valet to bring the cars around. Catching the mild look of surprise on Harper's face, she smirked before lowering her voice. "Remember what I said about not letting them win. Ryan and Nora are two of the most stubborn people I know, so keep fighting."
Harper wanted to follow up with a question, but her grandparents were just off to the side, and she didn't want to risk them overhearing. So she just nodded because she was determined to remain standing. After everything she'd endured in her life, she would handle this even though it felt like she was fighting on all sides – her friends, Jake, and now her grandparents. It was exhausting, and she was so damn tired of it, but she wouldn't back down.
Not now, not ever.
Their cars were returned a few minutes later, and Harper was more than ready to leave – to put this place and day as far behind her as possible. Harper glanced at Mia one last time as she slid into the car. Their gazes met for a fraction of a second—long enough to see something unreadable flicker behind Mia's smirk. Approval? A warning? Maybe both.
She counted down the terse minutes until she'd be dropped back off at Ryan's where she didn't have to hide who she was to be accepted.
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These chapters keep getting longer and longer, lol. Hopefully, you guys don't hate that.
But we finally got to see her grandparents and Mia again... and Jake.
I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter :)