Harp's Song Part 10

When he tries to grab me, I squeal and run to Emma before we get in her car and wave at Connor.

After three hours of shopping with Emma and countless visits to fitting rooms to try on dresses, we are both happy with a particularly low cut, form fitting yet cla.s.sy black dress for me. Emma finds a pair of nude peep-toe platform pumps that are way too high, but I let her talk me into getting them when she winks at me and says that Connor will love them. She also asks me why I'm staying with Connor, but I give her a generic answer about a fight with my mom and Catherine agreeing to let me stay there until I feel like I want to go back. She asks more questions, but I quickly divert her attention by pointing out a cute pair of shoes.

When we get back to her house she expertly walks around the florist and delivery people bustling around the house. I follow her lead up to her room so we can get ready.

After I get out of the shower and comb my hair, I start in on my makeup. But before I put it on, I look at my features, and realize how now they mean something different to me.

After hearing everything my mom told me, I became curious about Alex and if we really do look alike. So, instead of practicing my cello, I took an afternoon off to do some research in the school library.

I searched online for my mom's sister since I didn't have Alex's last name. I thought if I could find anything about Ginny or an archive of their engagement or wedding announcement that would lead me straight to him. Thank G.o.d for Google, because it was a lot easier than I thought to find Ginny Evans Hamilton currently living in a suburb outside of Detroit. I clicked on a few more links before finding an article about a Children's Hospital benefit attended by Mr. and Mrs. Alex Hamilton and a picture of them on a society page. I clicked on the picture to make it larger and saw an established couple in their early forties.

He had his hand around her back and she was pressed closely to him clutching a gla.s.s of champagne. My mom was right; she and her sister look nothing alike. Ginny appeared to be tall and thin with blonde hair and blue eyes. Like Connor, her tan skin made the blue of her eyes deepen and pop, and I found myself drawn to her.

I peeled my eyes from her to look at Alex. I traced his features and much to my dismay, there would be no denying our DNA. Not only did we have the same hair, mine holding more copper tones, but also the same facial structure, nose and coloring. The main difference is our eye color; his are green. But really, it would be obvious to anyone that we were father and daughter.

Alex Hamilton had gone to and graduated law school from Northwestern, and shortly afterward moved back to Michigan to work at his father's law firm: Hamilton, Watson and Goldberg. Other than that, I didn't find any other information on him and really didn't need anymore. I got what I wanted.

It's hard not to look at myself in disgust, especially now that I know whom I came from and how. Luckily, Emma enters the bathroom and breaks me from my thoughts.

After I dry my hair, she curls it for me so it's in long, loose curls down my back. Once my hair and makeup are done, I put the dress and shoes on and finish by adding the jewelry we bought today. I twirl for Emma and know I meet her approval when she rushes to hug me.

"You look so beautiful," she says squeezing me.

I pick up my gold clutch and am about to open the door when someone knocks on it.

I frown and look at Emma.

"I wonder who that could be," she says overdramatically rus.h.i.+ng to the door. I roll my eyes at her poor acting.

When she opens the door, I see Connor standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Wow, you look beautiful." He says while his eyes roam over my body. I feel the heat of his look and blush.

"Thank you, you look very handsome." I say taking the flowers and returning the complement. The truth is, he looks hot. He's wearing a black suit with a crisp, white dress s.h.i.+rt underneath and it's open at the neck. There's something about the starkness of his white s.h.i.+rt against his tanned, muscular skin that makes me tingle and deepens my blush.

"Are you sure we should go to the party? I think we should stay right here and ..." He pulls me into him and kisses me.

"Um, h.e.l.lo ... I'm standing right here," Emma announces holding her hands out to her sides.

I pull away from nervously giggling with embarra.s.sment.

He laughs, "Ok, let's go meet up with Ethan, he's downstairs already."

I turn to Emma and wave, "See you in a little bit."

She shakes her head and waves as she walks into her bathroom to finish getting ready.

When we get downstairs, Connor steers me toward an empty table and we stand there surveying the patio and backyard. There is a bar on the patio as well as another one at the opposite end of the yard. Large food stations have been placed throughout the backyard, and in the center there is an enormous ice sculpture. All the tables are dressed in spectacular flower arrangements and there are twinkle lights strung back and forth softly illuminating the sitting area. People are starting to enter the party and since Connor and I don't know anyone besides Emma and Ethan, we stand at a table and talk.

"Are you excited about going to Florida again this summer?" he asks me.

"I am." I answer him hesitantly.

"Well, that wasn't a very enthusiastic answer." He laughs.

"I know, sorry. I really am excited, but I guess I kind of don't want it to get here because then we leave for school a month later, and that makes me sad," I tell him.

"I know what you mean, but we will have the best summer ever, and I promise you we will talk every day when we go to school," he says rea.s.suringly.

"Hey guys," Ethan says walking over to us. He reaches over to give me a hug before joining us at our table. "Thanks for coming, these things are usually so boring."

"What's the party for anyway?" I ask.

"My Dad is the President of his law school alumni a.s.sociation this year so he's hosting an alumni fundraising party for the school," he explains.

"Where did he go to school?" Connor asks.

"Northwestern."

"Northwestern in Chicago?" I squeak.

"Yeah," Ethan confirms.

Oh.My.G.o.d.

Seriously I'm starting to freak out running through all the possibilities in my head.

"How old is your dad?" I ask Ethan anxiously.

"He's forty-two, I think. Why?"

"Oh nothing, some of the guys here look older than that so I was just curious," I cover.

"All alumni are invited to these things, not just people in his cla.s.s," he explains.

When he and Connor start talking about baseball I do the math in my head and panic even more because while I don't think that Ethan's dad and Alex were in the same cla.s.s, it doesn't mean he couldn't be here supporting his alma mater. I calm myself down by reminding myself that Alex lives in Michigan-there's no way he would come to middle of nowhere-Iowa for this party. I'm pulled from my thoughts when Emma bounds over to our table.

"Hey guys, thanks again for coming-now that you're here, this will be way more fun than the usual boring parties my parents throw," she says excitedly. "Harp, are you ok? You look a little pale."

Leave it to Emma to notice my freak out, but her enthusiasm is so contagious that I can't help but smile back at her. We spend the rest of the night moving from table to table talking about the guests, laughing, gorging ourselves on the food and sneaking champagne. I do my best to push my anxiousness about possibly seeing Alex here to the back of my mind.

Mr. and Mrs. Sommers come over to talk to us, mainly to steal Ethan and Emma away so they can introduce them to some of the guests.

Once they're gone, I turn to Connor, "I need to use the restroom. I'll meet you back here in a few minutes." He nods and leans in to give me a kiss on my cheek before I make my way back to the house. I've only had one gla.s.s of champagne, but I can feel the fuzziness and warmth from it throughout my body. So I blame the champagne on my lack of awareness when I smack straight into someone's hard chest.

"Whoa there!" A man chuckles grabbing my shoulders to steady me.

"Oh my G.o.d, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attent ..." I can't finish the word because I'm looking directly at Alex Hamilton.

You've got to be kidding me!

I can't believe he really is here, and that I freaking ran into him.

This is unbelievable. Stuff like this only happens in movies, right? I had kept an eye out for him when we were outside, but after an hour or so of scanning faces and not seeing him, I was relieved when I figured he wasn't here.

This is not happening right now ... is it? I shut my eyes and take a deep breath hoping that the alcohol is making me see things, and that when I open my eyes it won't be him-it will be a different man. Unfortunately, when I open them and look at his face, it is still him.

s.h.i.+t.

He gives me a puzzled look when he sees me open my eyes, "Are you ok? You're really pale ... did you hurt yourself, sweetheart?"

Ugh. Sweetheart. I vehemently hate this word. I always thought it sounded condescending or degrading in some way, especially coming from an older man. I clear my head and step to the side.

"Yeah, um, sorry about that," I say turning to continue to the restroom.

"I'm sorry, to bother you, but are you sure you're ok? You seem really upset."

I keep walking toward the restroom before I pause to look around. I realize we are alone and take a deep breath. Turning to face him, I smile sweetly, "Well, Mr. Hamilton, I'm just fine but it would have been nice if you had shown some concern toward my mother seventeen years ago."

I turn my back to him before I can see the damage of my words in his expression. I hurry into the bathroom and lock the door. Leaning against it, I try to regain my breath and calm my nerves. I can't believe I just did that. I can't believe I just met my father.

Oh.My.G.o.d.

To top it off I can't believe that's what I said to him. I don't know where it came from, but it was literally the first thing that came to my mind and it was out of my mouth before I could stop. I try to compose myself before going back outside to Connor, Ethan and Emma.

Before I make it our table, Connor greets me on the large patio.

"Hey, I was just getting ready to come check on you," he says.

"Oh, sorry, I'm here now," I reply.

"Are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost," he asks concerned. I hate that I can't hide anything from him. Before I can answer him, he grabs my hand.

"Why are you shaking?"

"Oh, must be the champagne." I say wearily. I'm not a good liar and Connor can call me out better than anybody, so I'm hoping he buys the champagne excuse because I'm really not up for explaining any of this to him-not now.

"Well, how about you slow down there then tiger?" he says chuckling. I exhale thankful he didn't press me any further.

When we rejoin Emma and Ethan at our table they are laughing, "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Harp, you totally missed it," Emma spits out between laughs. "See that guy over there with the beard and the huge gut?"

I turn in the direction she's nodding in and see that the man she's referring to is talking to Alex Hamilton. I try to look away quickly, but he catches me and we hold our gaze before Emma's contagious laughter brings my attention back to her.

"Yeah, I see him," I say.

"Well, my mom brought him over here to introduce us to him. I guess he's someone important, I don't really know. The whole time he was here he was eating shrimp. He kept getting c.o.c.ktail sauce in his beard and then he dripped it down his s.h.i.+rt and instead of using a napkin, he wiped it up with his finger and then ate it! It was so disgusting. On top of all that he kept talking with his mouth open and I swear that Ethan got sprayed with shrimp." Emma starts laughing harder now.

I smile and look at the three of them all red faced and laughing.

"Oh, yeah, hold still Ethan, I think I see a piece in your hair." I say.

"Stop it. I do not have shrimp on me," Ethan says and we all try to rein in our laughter. "Do I?" he asks skeptically and that's our undoing. We all bend over the table laughing until we hear someone tapping into the microphone and turn to see Ethan's dad on the top step of the patio.

"Come on Emma, we have to go," Ethan says taking Emma by the hand and walking over to stand next to their mom who is behind and to the right of their dad. I follow them with my eyes until my view is interrupted and when I refocus my gaze, I see Alex staring right at me.

I give him my best glare, before Connor's hand on the small of my back has me paying attention to the tingles running through my body. Turning to look at him, I smile and lean up to give him a kiss. When I pull away he smiles softly at me, and pulls me into his side resting his hand on my hip while we listen to Mr. Sommers welcome everyone. When Mr. Sommers is done, Ethan and Emma are bombarded with people rus.h.i.+ng over to talk to them and their parents.

"I have to use the restroom," Connor says, "Will you be ok if I leave you here for a few minutes?"

"Sure, I'll wait here for you," I tell him before he leans down and kisses the top of my head. I smile at his sweet gesture and watch him walk toward the house.

I pull my phone out to pa.s.s the time when I hear his voice. I close my eyes and when I open them, Alex Hamilton is standing in front of me with pure disbelief in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my words dripping with poison.

"So, you're friends with Ethan and Emma Sommers?" he asks me while his eyes roam my face. I stare at him refusing to answer. "And, your name is Harp?"

All I see is disgust for the man standing in front of me.

"Yes, a.s.shat, my name is Harp and just in case you don't remember, my mom's name is Anne. Anne Evans. Ring a bell?"

The look on his face is priceless. He looks like he's seen a ghost and is going to faint. I see the emotion in his eyes change, from disbelief to fear as he steps closer a.s.sessing my face.

Fear is an interesting motivator for people. Sometimes, they use it to rise above and conquer it, but other times, people let it win and it consumes them ... makes them desperate. I feel desperation rolling off Alex.

"Hey Harp, where's Connor?" Ethan asks approaching me.

"You listen here, whatever Anne has told you is a lie. She was a messed up kid and no doubt still messed up now. She doesn't know what she's talking about-and you, you are nothing and mean nothing."

"Listen man, I don't know who the h.e.l.l you are or why you know Harp and her mom, but you'd better back off." Ethan says stepping in between Alex and me. Even though Alex is at least six feet tall, Ethan stands his ground and is nose-to-nose with him.

When Alex doesn't walk away, Ethan takes my hand, "Come on Harp."

As we walk past Alex, he reaches for my arm effectively stopping me, forcing me to look at him.

"I mean it. Anne is a wh.o.r.e and if you are her daughter, you must be a wh.o.r.e too."

I open my mouth in shock and am ready to tell him off, but Ethan beats me to the punch. Literally. He punches Alex in the face so hard, that he stumbles back into the table behind him. I look between the two of them, and when I pick my mouth off the floor I step toward Alex faintly aware that Connor will back soon.

"You are a pathetic excuse for a man. A real man does not rape his soon-to-be seventeen year old sister-in-law and does not call his daughter a wh.o.r.e!" I say, spitting at him.

I.Hate.Him.

And then I smack him across the face not even caring that my right hand is on fire, stinging. A set of familiar, strong arms grab me and pull me toward the house. We've definitely attracted an audience and so instead of saying goodbye to anyone, we go straight to Connor's truck. I feel terrible about doing that at The Sommers party. Guilt settles in and I hope Ethan and Emma won't be mad at me.

The adrenaline running through me is starting to fade as I realize what just happened. Suddenly Connor pulls over onto the shoulder of the road and barely comes to a stop, before he throws the truck into park.