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  I got back into the bed and took the glass from her and took the pill then drank the water greedily.

  “Go back to sleep, you don’t have work tomorrow. But if anyone important calls I promise to wake you, O.K.?” She said as I already began falling asleep again. I nodded and closed my eyes. Hopefully, if I dreamed, it would be about something like this instead of my usual nightmares.

  ***

  I blinked slowly as I woke up. Immediately, I regretted opening my eyes. First of all, the sun was shining in. I usually woke up as the sun rose. The sun was too bright and too high in the sky. Second of all, I realized quickly I wasn’t in my room. I sat up and looked around. I was remembering last night around then. I had thought it was a guest room, but clearly by the sketches of different suits and runway photos hung around the room, and the certain clothes on the floor, this was hers.

  I still felt awful, but I was coherent and didn’t fall when I stood up. I had worked so hard the night before that everything seemed to ache, but I made my way downstairs regardless. I looked around the first floor, checking each room for Lydia. Eventually I found her in the entertainment room. She was sitting up, cross legged on the couch. I saw blankets draped over the couch and cushions, stolen from other couches in the room, piled up next to her.

  “Did you sleep here?” I asked. I cringed at how scratchy my voice sounded.

  She startled a little and turned to me. “Yes.” She began grabbing at her hair with one of her hands. “I didn’t know where your room was. I should have found some other bedroom, but I needed to get you in bed, and I panicked. And I wasn’t sure where to sleep. I didn’t want to keep opening and closing doors looking for a bedroom, so I ended up here.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized sincerely. She shouldn’t have to take care of me. I was an adult; I should know my limits. Had I taken my meds the past few days? Probably not if I needed to work until I couldn’t think anymore.

  “Don’t do that ever again. And then I’ll forgive you.” Her voice was firm.

  “I won’t.” I didn’t want to drag Lydia into my shit. I didn’t ask her to dinner for that reason. Instead I ended up making her sleep on the couch like I’d kicked her out of her room. I didn’t want her to worry about me.

  “Now go lay back down before you pass out again.” She gave me the shoo motion. I turned back around and headed up to my room this time. I’d have to call Mrs. Tupp about my episode. I didn’t want to disappoint her either.

  Lydia probably would have checked on me at some point, but she still didn’t know where my room was. This led to her shouting at the top of her lungs, “Taylor! Soup!”

  I hadn’t fallen asleep or called Mrs. Tupp, I had just laid in bed with my eyes closed feeling guilty. I shuffled out of my room and down to the kitchen. In two bowls on the counter was some watery yellow chicken soup.

  “I went out and bought a few cans,” she explained while putting the microwaveable bowl in the sink.

  “You don’t have to eat this too,” I said mixing the cubes of pink chicken around in my bowl. I wasn’t very hungry, but I knew I needed to eat to get better. I already decided I wasn’t going to worry Lydia ever again if I could help it.

  “I like stuff like this.” She said pulling up a bar stool to the other side of the counter so she could sit across from me. “My aunt and I didn’t really have meals together. But when I was sick, we’d have chicken noodle soup together. It makes me nostalgic.” She smiled and then began eating.

  We ate in silence, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

  “Where is your bedroom?” Lydia asked as soon as she was finished.

  “Third floor, left end.”

  She nodded. Her facial expression didn’t stick quite to one thing, like she was conflicted. “Anyway. After you’re done go rest again. If I find you in the gym, I’ll kill you.”

  “Thank you, but I know. You don’t have to take care of me.”

  “I know, but…” she trailed off. She looked like she had something more to say but she shook her head. “Sleep well.” And she left.

  ***

  On Monday I decided not to go into work. I hadn’t missed a day since I was just interning there. But I had pushed my body past its limits. If people saw me shaking like I was at work, I would look weak. I couldn’t show that part of myself if I was going to be CEO in a few months.

  I was also back to avoiding Lydia as much as possible. It made it easy when I didn’t want to leave my room. She didn’t use her new knowledge to check up on me like I was worried she might. That was, until that afternoon. I was sitting up in bed drinking some water before I planned to go back to sleep when the door opened and closed suddenly. Lydia was standing up against the door looking around my room.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, in more ways than one. She should be at work.

  “I’m starting to get sick too,” she explained, a cough proving her point. “I’m having a sick day too.”

  “Why are you in here?” I studied her.

  “Okay, Sooo… Your housekeeper is here. I was chatting with her while I made some more soup. I mentioned I was going to take a nap. She mentioned that you never let her clean your room but asked if since we were married you changed your mind or if I had convinced you I wanted our room clean. Which is when I realized that if I don’t go back to your room and go to mine instead, she’ll get suspicious.”

  “What are you going to do then?” I asked.

  “I don’t know! Sit in here until she leaves?” She said banging her head back against the door. “Pretend I don’t need a nap and watch T.V. downstairs?”

  “You should rest.” I felt even worse knowing I’d given her my sickness too.

  “I know.” She sighed. “Throw me a pillow and a blanket I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “I should sleep on the floor.” I tried to insist.

  “No, you are way too sore to be doing that.” She was right but I still wasn’t going to make her sleep on the ground.

  “Fine.” I scooted over to one end of my bed. “Sleep on that side.”

  “I don’t know.” Her eyes were glued on me. I realized I wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  “The bed is plenty big; I’ll sleep all the way over here. If you don’t feel comfortable, I understand. I’ll let you sleep on the ground if you really want to. But we’re both sick, we both need our rest.” Her eyes went wide. I guess that was a lot of talking from me in one go. I was sick and tired; I didn’t feel like I needed to be so guarded.

  “That’s fine.” I was worried that meant she was going to sleep on the floor after all, but she got into the other side of the bed. “Goodnight.”

  “It’s twelve-thirty.” I responded.

  She turned and rolled her eyes at me and then settled down. She was asleep quickly, her breaths evening out. I had trouble falling asleep knowing someone else was so close. But I insisted she sleep there. She wouldn’t take advantage of that. I had to trust her. Once I realized that, I too was able to fall asleep.

  I was woken up a few hours later by my phone buzzing under my pillow. Groggily, I sat up slightly, careful not to wake Lydia who had turned towards me in her sleep. Of course, it was my grandfather.

  “Hello,” I said quietly.

  “Taylor, how sick are you?” He asked.

  “I’m getting better Jiji, I’ll be at work tomorrow.”

  “Take your time to get better, there’s a gala this weekend. We have to be present.”

  “A gala? For what?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

  “It’s a charity event, one of the causes we’ve supported in the past. The women’s shelter?”

  Yes, I had donated plenty to help get the shelter running. Good to see they had gotten big enough to host galas for potential donors. “I’ll be there.”

  “Bring your wife too, so I can finally meet her.”

  That was perfect. My mother wouldn’t be allowed to such an event. She probably wouldn’t want to go even if she could.r />
  “We’ll be there.” I looked over at Lydia’s sleeping face. “You’ll love her.”

  Chapter 8: Lydia

  I had been to several fancy events in the past. In order to be anyone in the fashion world you had to be someone people knew. That meant I invited myself to a lot of fashion week after parties or snuck in with my models until people started actually inviting me. Each time I had seen the affair as business. No matter how fancy the hors d’oeuvres or how tempting the free bar was, I was always there to get my and Sew Fit’s name around. This time would be no different. This time business was just pretending to be married as well as mentioning my brand to whoever would listen. When Taylor asked me if I could go, I was still a little embarrassed having slept so close to him. But I knew that this was the perfect moment for me to prove myself to his grandfather. I was always a fake version of myself at these parties: whatever I could do to fit in best. I would be in my element.

  Taylor offered to buy me something to wear, but after that wedding dress I politely declined. Instead, I had selected a champagne pink silk dress I bought myself as a birthday gift last year. It was held up with straps and had a slit up to my mid-thigh. Three-inch heels, some natural makeup, and a little bit of rose perfume and I was all set.

  I waited by the door for Taylor to finish getting ready. He walked down the staircase in a suit. It wasn’t one I designed, and it didn’t fit him. I would offer to alter it for him, but I wasn’t sure what our real relationship was like anymore. He was obviously avoiding me in the beginning, and I started to as well since that was what he wanted. But after his sickness, he started talking to me sometimes in the morning as we left for work. He also said more than “hello” or nodding his head as he passed me in the halls in the evening. I didn’t think we were quite friends, but it wasn’t the coldness between us before. Could I offer to help him? It would require us in close proximity again as I measured him and made sure he tried on my work. I wouldn’t offer it yet. I wanted to see how this dinner and gala went first.

  “You look nice.” He said in his deep monotone. But his eyes lingered on my dress even after he said that. I knew the compliment was genuine.

  “You do too.” I tapped his wrist and took his arm in mine. “We make quite the pair. Everyone will be jealous.”

  Taylor nodded and led me out his door. His grandfather had sent a car to pick us up. I heard Taylor trying to argue with his grandfather to convince him to let him drive, but he obviously lost that battle.

  “So, I did some research about the cause.” I said as we sat in the back and drove to the other mansion this gala was taking place in.

  He nodded. “Sounds like you.”

  “I like to be prepared. It’s a really good cause. The center takes in women and men from abusive homes and helps them with legal fees and childcare until they can get their own place. It’s really cool that you helped get them off the ground.”

  “Oh. You read that too.”

  “Of course, It’s on their website. You personally donated the entirety of their initial funding goal on some crowdfunding site. I didn’t realize you were so generous.”

  “I have to use this money for something. Might as well be for something good.” The last part he muttered. Almost like he was embarrassed. I had no idea why. I had agreed with Michael, silently, for weeks that he was a dick, or more that he wasn’t very nice. Obviously, I had assumed wrong. Not very looking at the glass half full of me. But if he was so generous, and supportive of such causes, why did he insist on being so short with people? He let me into his bed when I was sick and offered to sleep on the ground when he was hurting so much. He could be so nice. Why didn’t he want people to know? Why did he want people to hate him?

  We arrived at the gala shortly. It was in Glencoe as well, which is why I thought it was silly his grandfather didn’t let him drive. The driver opened the door for us, and Taylor helped me out of the car. Other couples were entering in impressive dresses and suits. My mind automatically started to guess who their designers was.

  “Who made that?” I was surprised to hear Taylor ask something like that. He nodded his head towards a man in a velvet red suit jacket with silver accents.

  “Wendy Roe. She’s also pretty new to the scene, but she is a bit older than Michael and I and has way, way more clients,” I explained in a hush voice, leaning in so no one would hear me. “She’s good.”

  He nodded and led me further into the party. He kept asking me to name designers. Did he notice that I had been doing that in my head? Was he genuinely curious? Or was this just another attempt to look more like a couple? That thought made my stomach turn a little, so I decided not to ask. I didn’t want to find out.

  Inside the mansion, three times larger than Taylor’s, was what could only be called a ballroom. Tables clad in uniform white tablecloths circled a large area. There was a small orchestra playing in one corner of the party. This maybe was the fanciest party I’d ever been to. Maybe I wasn’t as prepared as I thought.

  Taylor seemed to know what table we belonged to. Already sitting there was a shorter Japanese man who looked quite a bit like Taylor. I noticed immediately the color of his eyes were the exact same shade. He stood to greet us. He smiled like Taylor did when he wasn’t faking: the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

  “Hello dear.” He shook my hand.

  “Mr. Hirano.” I shook back.

  “You’re family now. Call me Ikari.”

  I nodded and we all sat. Taylor sat between me and his grandfather, almost acting like a barrier.

  “Jiji.” Taylor turned to his grandfather. “I am glad you two could finally meet.”

  “You’ve been keeping me from her Taylor.” Ikari said in an almost lecturing voice.

  “I…” Taylor looked down at the tablecloth. There was something in his expression that I had seen before. It was when I spotted him near collapse in his gym and it was in his eyes when I woke him up while he was sick and delirious.

  I subtly tapped his wrist and took his hand in mine and held it on the table where His grandfather could see. Because of the hand tapping system, it looked natural. “I’m glad to meet you, Ikari, I apologize for not meeting sooner but with my fashion business being so hectic for the season change, I hardly have to time to see Taylor.” I didn’t know why Taylor had declined to meet with his grandfather for so long. Last time I asked he didn’t really answer. But I knew I had to lie for him. I trusted his reasoning.

  “Funny that you and Taylor had been dating this whole time I thought he was setting up a meeting,” Ikari said, keeping his eyes on mine. “I heard him say he was dreading it. But that was all to keep it from me, eh?”

  I giggled. Dreading it? He hadn’t even met me yet! “Sorry we were so secretive. I insisted on it. I’m a private person.” That was a lie. But I probably wouldn’t want my clients to know about my love life until it was serious, gossip traveled fast, so there was some truth to it.

  “When you asked me to get married, I convinced her to be more open about it. And then we decided to get married as soon as possible. It felt like the right thing to do.” He sounded convincing to me; it was following the story we crafted up together.

  “Are you wanting children, Lydia?” He asked and my face went hot.

  “Jiji.” Taylor said sternly. I could feel the stiffness of his body next to me.

  “Is it wrong for a grandfather to want to know about grandchildren from my only grandson?”

  I recovered quickly. “Yes, I’ve always wanted children.” This wasn’t a lie. The idea of tailoring very small suits or dresses for my future kids always excited me. I could bring them to runway shows and teach them how to sew. “We’re not planning anything right now.” Not a lie. “But I’m open to whatever the future brings.” Vague enough to not be a lie.

  Taylor gave me a look that seemed grateful. When I said I could handle his grandfather, I meant it.

  “Good. A fine girl Taylor.”

  “Yes. I thin
k so too.” He nodded.

  A waiter came around and got our orders. I let Taylor order for me, I didn’t really want to look ignorant here and the dishes on the limited menu were all unfamiliar to me.

  “Why don’t you get me and your wife some wine,” Ikari said, looking at his grandson with watchful eyes.

  “I can call a waiter over,” Taylor suggested eyeing me, somewhat nervously.

  “They’ll take too long. Be respectful Taylor, I’m too old to be walking around.”

  Taylor squeezed my hand and then let go, standing up to go to the bar. He glanced back as he left, obviously concerned.

  “Now Lydia.” I brought my attention back to Ikari.

  “Yes?” This was going to be the real challenge.

  “You love my grandson?” He asked.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t.” This was partly a lie. I had always seen myself marrying for true love. I never wanted to settle for someone even if that meant never getting married. But these were extenuating circumstances and also only temporary. Hopefully he wouldn’t see through me.

  “So, you’re not marrying him for his money?” He asked bluntly.

  I felt my throat close up and my heart pound. I wanted to pull my hair out, but I had to keep myself composed. I was marrying him for his money, but not in that way. I didn’t lie before, I wouldn’t marry someone just because they were rich, I wanted true love. But how was this any different? I remembered agreeing with Taylor that this was just a business deal, and that we weren’t using each other. But weren’t business deals just two people agreeing to use each other? I felt sick but I realized I was taking too long to answer.

  “Taylor is a unique person,” I started while watching him walk back with two wine glasses in his hands. “Even if he was poor, that wouldn’t change who he is.”

  “As long as you give him sons, I don’t care.” His grandfather said to me right before Taylor returned. He took the wine from Taylor. “That’s a respectful grandson.”

  I felt my heart stop. Did his grandfather really believe that? I thought he was asking to make sure I had good intentions. He was just asking because he was curious. Now I saw why he asked Taylor to leave. Should I tell him what his grandfather said? I wouldn’t do it now. It might blow our cover and, I saw the way Taylor smiled genuinely as he spoke with Ikari. I didn’t want to be the one to ruin that tonight.