look here. This place is cemented in my mind as something from the past, falling apart and waiting to be torn down. But here’s Gigi’s childhood home, gleaming in the summer sun.
I walk up the steps, and Milo follows close behind. Should I knock first? What if the SOLD sign is because Gigi fixed up the brownstone and sold it to another family but never said anything? When I reach the door, I see that it’s slightly ajar, as if someone thought they’d closed it but actually didn’t. That’s weird.
Slowly, I push the door open. I glance back at Milo, and he shrugs. We quietly step into the hallway. It’s empty and smells like Lysol. There’s a room at the end of the hall and a staircase leading up to the second floor.
Right away, I learn that we’re not alone. There are people here, and they’re arguing.
In shock, I register the sound of Gigi’s voice. Gigi, who is usually calm and collected, is shouting. And a quieter voice—a man’s voice—is trying to appease her.
Without another thought, I stealthily climb the staircase. Milo hesitates in the hallway, but I don’t turn around to ask if he’s coming.
The staircase leads to an open living room. It’s empty save for a folding chair. And there, placed on the seat, is a big floppy white hat. Ha. I knew I saw Gigi at Bryant Park. At least at this I can feel vindicated.
The walls in the room are pastel blue, just like the walls of my bedroom, and it smells as if they were recently painted. Propped up in the corner is the blown-up portrait from the photo shoot I did with Candice Tevin on my eleventh birthday. Gigi and I are standing side by side. I’m smiling up at her, all big curly hair and scrawny limbs. And Gigi is looking right back at me, one hand on her hip, her other hand placed on my cheek. Is this what Gigi secretly bought from Candice?
I creep toward the sound of Gigi’s voice coming from down the hall.
“I knew you were behind this,” she says angrily. “There was no other reason why they would decide to honor me out of the blue.”
“It isn’t out of the blue,” the man argues. “You’ve deserved this for years. Decades.”
His voice sounds familiar. So familiar that it makes my stomach twist. I pause by the doorway to the room in which they’re standing. I peek my head inside, and the first things I notice are portraits I saw at Candice’s gala. The portrait of Gigi with James Jenkins on the set of Every Time We Meet and another portrait of Gigi with my mom and grandfather, standing by the pool. They’re framed and placed side by side on the floor.
Then my gaze turns to Gigi and James Jenkins, who are standing in the middle of the room with their backs to me.
James Jenkins … here right now, with Gigi.
James Jenkins.
What in the world is happening?
“And I don’t want these portraits,” Gigi says to him. “I don’t know why you bought them from Candice.”
“What do you mean?” James asks, incredulous. “I bought them for you. I thought you’d want them.”
“You don’t listen! You never do.” Gigi shakes her head, furious. “You started this whole mess, and you even pulled Evie Marie into it. Now she’s under pressure to present an award to me that I don’t even want.” Gigi crosses her arms over her chest. She’s wearing a loose-fitting cream sundress, her gray curls tied into a low bun at the nape of her neck. She’s a petite woman, but right now she stands up tall. “This is your way of trying to make amends, but I wish you would stop. It’s been eight years, James—”
“Eight years of you refusing to forgive me,” he says fiercely. “I’m sorry for what I did, Peg. I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you if that’s what you want.”
Gigi shakes her head again. “If you would let me finish, you’d hear me say that I have forgiven you. I shouldn’t have reacted so harshly at the FCCs when you were being honored. It was childish, and I’ve regretted it every day since. What happened between us was unfortunate, but that’s just the way of things. I forgive you, and I want to move on.”
“I don’t.” He takes a deep breath and steps forward until there’s no space between them. “I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for one second. If